Tastes

The first drink I had this year after resolving to avoid cask strength first-fill single barrels was a cask strength first-fill single barrel. My excuse for this inconsistency is that it was a Springbank and therefore exempt from any restrictions, be they financial, medical or philosophical. This one was distilled in 2003 and matured for 13 years in a “fresh” sherry cask. Just 474 bottles of 58.6% spirit were released for the U.S. market in 2017, presumably from a sister cask to the 700 ml bottling listed separately on Distiller. The nose starts off with a small but pleasant hint of sulphur, a bit of the classic Springbank funk and a handful of baked oats. Diluting it to 50% unlocks earthy aromas of a damp forest. It’s complex and warming and I could happily explore it all evening. I was braced for this to taste like an overpowering sherry bomb, but the neat spirit is surprisingly dry on the tongue, with flavors of caramelized pecans, mushroom soup and soy sauce, and it’s easy drinking despite the strength. The finish is long and tangy, and longer still with water, which brings out spicy, umami flavors like Twiglets (Google it, my American friends.) Springbank limited releases are always fun to try because they are typically a well balanced mix of the distillery’s funk and peat and the flavors of whatever crazy cask took their fancy. This one didn’t disappoint.

This sample from @LeeEvolved was one of many Christmas treats that I am slowly transcribing from my note book. The initial nose on this one was a phenomenal cornucopia of tropical fruits: papaya, guava, pineapple, mango. It wasn’t quite as dramatic after some time in the glass, but that first blast was perhaps the fruitiest whisky I’ve encountered. The taste is quite different, however, creamy and malty upfront and then long and peppery on the finish, with lingering hints of freshly baked bread and black tea. Fruit, dairy, bread, tea - skip the granola and pour yourself a Braeval breakfast.

This was one of the whiskies on offer at a Hogmany bar party I attended for New Year’s Eve and it was really good. The nose was so fruity I could smell it as soon as the server passed me the glass. The delicious, crisp bright spirit had me ordering a second round. Nice zing of pepper on the finish. Here’s wishing 2019 brings you all many such delightful surprises.

My whisky resolution for 2019 is to get back to basics. Digressions this year into single cask bottlings have disappointed more often than they’ve enlightened. The first-fill sherry casks in particular, with one notable Springbank exception, have only served to underscore the magic of refill wood. And the abundance of high octane samples coming through my door have mostly reminded me that I like my whisky best at 46-50%. There’s no better rejoinder to the cult of the single cask than a good blend, and few better blenders than Compass Box, even if the increase in prices and releases this year has tested the loyalty of its fans. No sooner has the novelty of the Great King St Artist’s Blend marrying casks worn off than along comes this sherried cask finish of the Glasgow version, itself a sherry cask variation on the original blend. That makes this a derivative of a derivative, for those keeping score at home. A little more than 300 bottles were filled for the Houston Bourbon Society and Houston Wine Merchant at an ABV of 49%, of which a sample found its way to Modern Drinking HQ. The nose is peanut skins, buttered toast and a hint of shoe polish, a balanced combination of sherry and malty notes. It’s lusciously syrupy in the mouth, with a creamy and lightly sweet flavor akin to toasted pecans. The finish is very long and smooth, with a pleasant hint of freshly planed pine wood. This is a delicious blend that’s significantly better than the original Glasgow bottling and also the marrying cask versions of the Artist’s Blend. It’s an easy, undemanding dram that feels like a vacation after the hard work of analyzing single casks. While my inner whisky geek will no doubt struggle next year to resist opportunities for tasting exotic casks from obscure distilleries, here’s hoping my better angels steer me more towards the less demanding choices. Except for that single cask Springbank I hinted at above. Of course I’m getting that. A man’s principles can only go so far.

This is a limited edition bottling of the Tobermory distillery’s peated spirit. It spent some final portion of its 13 years in Amontillado sherry casks, but I couldn’t find any information on how long. At its cask strength of 59.2%, there are creamy pears and malt on the nose, with a hint of sawdust. Diluted to 50%, a bit of funk emerges. In the mouth, it’s fruity and slightly sour, like grapefruit with a dash of pepper. There’s a creamy note too. The finish is long and heavy on the cayenne pepper. This is my first whisky from this distillery so I don’t know how much the flavor deviates from the base spirit, but the sherry cask influence seems subtle — and none the worse for that. My guess is that the Amontillado finish comprised only six months to a year. Overall, a tasty dram that will have me seeking more whisky from the Isle of Mull.

I had the opportunity to reassess this at home and see how it stood up to my initial impression at The Whisky Show. My more considered opinion is that is indeed very good, but not as great as my initial review and Felipe’s imply. In color and viscosity, it pours like engine oil. The nose brings to mind a tawny port, with an undertone of mulch and burnt match, but it’s not as bold as I would expect given the cask strength. In the mouth, it starts sweet, peppery and oily, before the flavors coalesce into cherries covered in dark chocolate. The oiliness coats the mouth to leave a long and spicy finish with notes of dark chocolate nibs and a hint of mint. You’ll definitely want more than one glass of this if you get the opportunity but I think the nose would have to be more compelling for me to firmly recommend you track down a bottle.

Nose of peanut skins and spent match (ie sulphur, but not unpleasant). Rich, syrupy and slightly sweet to the taste. The finish is medium length and syrupy, a little spice, a little sulphur. I don’t know Deanston so can’t comment on how much the spirit is contributing here, but it feels predominantly cask driven. As such, it’s a decent enough sherry bomb, but not something I’d try more than once.

I don’t find Lagavulin releases as consistently excellent as many of its fans do and I always approach a new sample with tempered expectations. So when I say this is the best one I’ve had, you can be assured there’s no hyperbole. It’s the 2017 edition of a bottling that Lagavulin releases annually to mark the Islay Jazz Festival and sells only at its distillery. The 2017 release comprised 6,000 bottles priced at 99 pounds and they don’t seem to have appreciated on the secondary market — Whisky Auctioneer sold one for 101 pounds a couple of weeks ago. There’s no age statement, but we’re told it was matured in a combination of refill American oak hogsheads and refill European oak butts. The color, which I typically ignore for review purposes, is noteworthy for its pallor - it’s as pale as a Pinot Grigio. More remarkable is the nose - a wave of delicious sweet smoke rolls out of the glass, speckled with wisps of lemons and pears. It’s thick and creamy in the mouth, with a hint of orange. The peat blasts through at the end, leaving a long peppery finish with notes of raisins and licorice. It’s surprisingly smooth at cask strength, but more easily enjoyed diluted to 50% ABV. The peppery peat comes through earlier on the palate at this strength. The combination of presumably youthful spirit and American oak is probably what makes this recipe succeed. Although the sherry butts contribute their share of flavor, it’s the subtlety creamy bourbon cask influence that differentiates this from other Lagavulins. Like the players in a great jazz band, this line-up of spirit and casks makes a beautiful sound.

Another batch of Springbank samples has arrived at Modern Drinking HQ and with them the difficult choice of where to start. We’ll go with this oddity from five years ago, a nine-year-old whippersnapper that spent its last five years in a Gaja Barolo cask. I actually have a bottle of this stashed away, but it’s always nice to try from someone else’s before deciding whether to open something unknown. Springbank wine finishes can be hit or miss but they’re always interesting. This one starts off with a nose of raspberries, so the cask is firmly to the foreground. The fruity profile continues in the mouth with flavors of sweet cherries, but it’s also minty and oily. The finish is shortbread, strong black tea, walnuts and more cherries. Interesting and worth a glass or two, but not as good as some of the Longrow Reds.

This is my first proper taste of this distillery and, yes, it’s waxy. There’s a distinct aroma of melting candle, but also a hint of perfume and bitter marmalade. Tastes of malt, tamarind, black tea and a hint of burnt match. Rich, oily, spicy. The aftertaste starts with a savory smoldering wax, then turns sweet. Whether you ignore or embrace the marketing, this is a balanced, intriguing whisky that demands your attention. You’ll definitely want more than one glass of this.