Tastes

This is the peatiest scotch ever at 300 bajillion parts per million! The truth is that the Octomores are getting worse. The 6 series, in my opinion, was the pinnacle. Never tried 6.2, but the 6.1 is still the cheapest and one of the best octomores here in Maryland. The 6.3 is the best octomore I’ve had period. This 8.3 is pretty good. But not worth the price of my admission (241 USD). For peat heads, I agree that this is the peatiest thing I have ever tried, and I love peat, but I prefer a little more balance. Peat reek dominates the nose, with a tropical bend. Rotting mangoes and papaya being burnt on top of rotting vegetation. Pure detritus and hydrocarbons on the palate. There is a little bit of liquorice, which I don’t like, and associate with plastic and bad casks. The finish is ashy and savory. Smoked fish that was smoked again. And then smoked again. The sin on this whisky is that it tastes like it is too young. Previous X.3 Octomores are also 5 years old, but never did I get that impression. But, if you are looking for a peat bomb, this is the Tsar Bomba. I would value this at 200 USD. I overpaid a tad. 92/100

2oz pour This is what happens when you put a good Kentucky bourbon to age on a ship for 6 months travelling the world’s oceans. It tastes like a good Kentucky bourbon. ‘MURRICA! It’s like a weary xenophobic traveler that becomes only more ingrained in its traditional Kentucky roots after languishing in the greater world. Big cask strength Kentucky hug. Vanilla, butterscotch, and dark fruits. Huge bourbon spices: cinnamon, nutmeg, and dried orange peels. Nicely balanced oak. Where’s the ocean influence? There is no brine, no salt, no “seaspray”, just Kentucky. The bottling idea is gimmicky, but the contents are a solid classic. The pricing for the non-CS releases are a little suspect, but at ~90 USD for a good CS bourbon, that’s fair, and I might pick up a bottle. 89/100.

2oz pour I’m reminded why I don’t ever buy a bottle of Laphroaig 10 anymore, even though it’s dirt cheap by single malt standards. Laphroaig is spending too much resources on catchy ads and NAS releases; and letting their 10 year old slip in quality. Lemons. Rind, zest, juice. Herbal, iodine smoke. Seaspray. This is not the tour-de-force I remember. It’s amazing how much character is lost from watering down the cask strength version. Alas, the CS is the real reason I don’t bother with Laphroaig 10, and why I won’t lament too much here. It’s ~40 USD for the bottle here. By my standards, it’s good value. It’s just that for $25 more, the CS bottling is more than worth the upgrade. 84/100

Paid $190 for this bottle. This is a bottle kill review. I will try to summarize what this bottle offered. Nose: So green! Green tapioca, underripe fruits, Granny Smith apple, grass. Best utilization of grass notes of any whisky I can remember. Palate: Sweet, as expected arrival, but then there’s an inexorable transition to smoky, spicy dryness. Burning grass. Menthol. Green tea. Finish: Woody, herbaceous. A little mezcal smokiness. Minty too. Decent linger. This can handle some water. Water will smooth out the edges and transitions. Make things taste a little more cooked. Very sad to see this bottle empty. I would love to have another at the same price. Pros: So unexpectedly charismatic for Glenkinchie. A vibrant dram for its age, with a dynamic story to tell. Cons: Bottled in 2010, and limited to 4854 bottles. Probably won’t be able to find these anymore. They aren’t really a collectible, so it’s hard to get even on the secondary market. Mark: 93/100 (range 92-95. N = 7)

Paid $33 for this bottle. This is a bottle kill review. I will try to summarize what this bottle offered. Nose: Young in a good way. Like Alisha Keys when she dropped her first album. Not young in a bad way. Like when Justin Bieber dropped his first album. Virgin oak is a good description. It’s oaky, and vanilla-y. But it’s virgin… y? What? That was bad. Anyways… Palate: It’s well balanced and smooth at first, and then the wood spices say eff this, and take over. Eager-to-please virgin oak. Finish: It’s a delicate balance between the bitter tannins and the vanillins. A little bit of black liquorice and nutmeg too. Interesting for an NAS. Look here, for $33, you don’t get Mizunara. But fuck Mizunara. This is virgin American oak, and it works wonders. And this shit actually regenerates, and is sustainable. For $33, this is a no brainer purchase. Mark: 81/100 (range 76-85. N = 6)

Springbank motherflubbing distillery! They keep getting better. Because they put the extra effort to do whiskies right, I’m going to be a little extra in singing my praises. The bottle I am enjoying now was bottled on March 23, 2018. You cannot hurry into an aged Springbank product, least of all Longrow 18. You pour it, and let it air for 15 minutes. This is an expensive bottle, so you don’t want to rush the experience. First, marvel at the bottle. Scotch has become about this prestige thing – feigned luxury and exclusivity; fancy clothes for fancy bottles; in these sordid whisky fests in the U.S., where your outfit better be more expensive than the expensive entry fee. Springbank is the plain-clothed marvel; white T-shirt and jeans, in a room full of Tom Ford suits and dresses. It’s all about what is inside. Confidence and character. The nose. THE NOSE! Pickled mangoes. Tangerines. Creamy and thick for something that’s only 46% ABV. The peat is floral and meaty at the same time, like flowers that have just started to wilt. Or that meat flower… whatchamacallit? I’m no botanist. Anways… a fragrant saltiness. Rather than the cool rocky coasts of Scotland, the nose takes you to a tropical island. But one where things are starting to pickle. It’s characteristic of a good Springbank, and this one nails it. Longrow 18 is not something most people will automatically like. It is what some reviewers would call challenging. It does not have the universal superficial appeal of a calendar model, a Prince Charming, a Princess Fiona before she turns into an ogress. Longrow 18 is Shrek. Good whiskies are like onions. They have layers. Missed the reference? Watch the movie (the original). You will not turn into a dapper young buck holding a dram of Longrow 18 in your hand, like if you hand an old mahogany Macallan. You may turn into an ogre, or ogress, or Ralphy. And you will be beautiful, like Ralphy. That dude – you can be him for Hallowe’en… not a bad idea for a whisky tasting theme actually. The palate. Soft, mouthcoating arrival that takes time to unravel. Tobacco, overripe starfruit, a little honey, a little citrus. Medium spice with a lot of complexity. White pepper. A little cinnamon, nutmeg, and fennel seed. And then there’s weird flavors that somehow add to the balance; the beauty of the thing. A taste like a wet sock smells, like one you’ve worn for an hour after stepping into a puddle. A seaweed umaminess… see? An onion has layers. Longrow 18 epitomizes the distillery that refuses to change. It does nothing to try to reach into new markets; to change its flavors to appeal to the common trepid consumer who likes to stay at the fringes of every adventure. This whisky will never come to you, if you are standing way over there, in the Pappy van Winkle line, like a baroque cow. You must come to it. The finish. Long, mercurial, chimeric. A peat that walks the line between a tobacco smoke and a meaty smoke. A slight matchstick Sulphur – that’s not just okay; that’s quite lovely. A potpourri of fruit jams. Some roasted nuts. It’s well rounded, and evolving. And the next sip will be something different. Like the truly great whiskies, this one changes for the better with time in the bottle, and also with time in the glass. So, what is the best distillery? Some people are offended by the question. Some have the patience to rationalize a political answer. “It’s all subjective, and depending on your taste. It’s like I might say that Brussel sprouts are the best vegetable, while you can just as assuredly say spinach. There is no single right answer.” But there is, so just stop. It’s Springbank. Mark: 96/100

Paid $40 for this 2016 bottle. This is a bottle kill review. I will try to summarize what this bottle offered. Nose: Salty honeycomb. Toffee. Lemon. Picture a stormy black night with waves crashing and all when you nose Talisker; this is the cleansing clear sunrise the morning after. Palate: Flat malty arrival that becomes more interesting as the salt and pepper start to emerge into the aftertaste. Light crisp fruits. Finish: Refreshing. Seawater with a lager and a lemon wedge. Pros: Great value for money. Great balance. Great classic morning Scotch for those vacation days when you can skip the coffee. Cons: Okay, nice warm up. Now I’m ready for the real stuff… This is one of the best single malts you can easily find for under $50. If you want to spend just a few bucks more to add a third dimension, may I recommend Talisker 10, if you lean towards peaty; or Bunnahabhain 12, if you lean towards sweet Mark: 82/100 (range 78-83. N = 4)

2oz pour. I had this at the 2 Michelin-starred Ramon Freixa in Madrid, Spain. They literally brought the bottle out on a silver platter. This did not outshine the food that night, which I highly recommend. I actually recommend this whisky too. Just a pour. I don’t know if you can find bottles anymore, or if these have appreciated significantly after being discontinued. Fancy restaurants in Europe would be your best bet. Ruby is a well-balanced complex rich sherry experience. Figs, plums, tobacco, chocolate. You cannot find this in the US. We got a supposed upgrade called the Rare Cask, which is fluffed up rubbish. There’s an entire essay on why it is awesome in the box. They could’ve just jizzed in the box. It makes no sense. This Macallan Ruby is more honest. It is just first fill Jerez sherry casks. Big straight statement that rare cask cannot make. You can fluff it up all you want after that. Yes, this Is watered down and probably is some blend of 10-20 year olds, but those traditional Jerez casks that have never seen whisky before are Macallan’s diamonds in the rough. And to release a whisky composed only of those first fills in 2012 is special. We may never again have a mass produced Macallan that uses only those casks. Unlike the rest of the 1824 range, this was an impressive dram. 92/100

2oz pour Yeah. It’s young. Maybe 7-8 years. Too young. It’s got promise, but not enough character. Light vanilla, vegetal and biscuity. Moderate peat. Strange that this is a Springbank that is completely double distilled, but this one ends up reminding me of a peated Irish, like Connamera. Not my thing. It’s ~65 USD for the bottle here. Gonna skip. 83/100

2oz pour. Not as good as batch 001. Stewed fruits and toffee on the nose. Dark chocolate and spices on the palate. A smooth inoffensive finish. Like with Macallan creates, this is a departure from traditional sherry flavors not because it is better, but probably because it is cheaper. This brand is very comparable to Macallan. Unfortunately, the prices are similar too. A full bottle here is ~100 USD. I think I’ll pass. Pretty good whisky though. 89 / 100