Tastes

Paid $60 for this bottle. This is a bottle kill review. I will try to summarize what this bottle offered. Nose: Archeological dig. Swimming pool. Earth. Wind. And fire. Barbeque? Palate: Soily greasy peat dominates. Background of a young ex-bourbon profile. Sharp grassy vanilla. Slight sherry influence as well with raisins. Finish: Dirt, oil, and “An Inconvenient Truth.” Say what you say about climate change, but Ledaig is real. Pros: Ledaig is legit its own thang. The Original Taste of Farm. Cons: Bruichladdich made this obsolete with Octomore. Ledaig can be a beast, young or old, in independent bottlings. I highly recommend going for a gamble, it you can find some indie bottling at a higher ABV but for a similar price, regardless of age. If you liked this and want something OB, and to spend 3-4x more for something way cooler: Octomore 6.1 or 7.1 Final Mark: 85/100 (range 82-87. N = 5)

So glad that Distiller upgraded to allow multiple reviews for one product. Aberlour A’Bunadh is special in that it embraces batch variation like no other Scotch. They release batches with such rapidity that even the most avid collector cannot keep up, and yet the batches are varied to the point I start to ponder that this must be intentional. Buying a bottle can be an addiction, almost like gambling. This is a review of batch 34 (59.5% ABV). It is the oldest batch I own, and it is brilliant. If sherry bombs were truly bombs, this one generates a mushroom cloud. It tastes more like sherry than sherry itself. I almost never talk or care about the color of a whisky, but when it comes to a sherry bomb, where sherry is the only influence on the spirit, color matters. Darker really is better (if no coloring is used, of course). When I first started getting into Scotch, sherried Scotches were routinely as dark as bourbons. Macallan 12 and the original Balvenie 15 year single cask were $50 pickups that had the color of Mahogany. The first few batches of Aberlour A’bunadh were even better, and amongst the best whiskies I’ve ever had. In fact, the best sherried whisky I ever tried was a batch in the teens. Sadly I did not record the actual number, because I had assumed that all A’bunadh’s would be as good. Not true. But batch 34 comes close. It is brown in color and has the richest sultanas, dark chocolate, toffee, so oily and sticky… words escape me. It’s sinful, really. I’m married; and I’m not sure married people should be allowed this. It’s like sex while on drugs. I had to hunt for a second bottle of this, and finally found one for the odd price of $101. I’ve forgotten how much I paid for the bottle I have open, but it was definitely less. Alas, inflation. I think even the worst A’Bunadh’s are reasonable at around $80. The best ones are damned near priceless. As a rule-of-thumb hack for sherried whiskies that are not colored and are sold in clear bottles, examine the color. Mark: 95/100

This is in solid A’bunadh territory in terms of quality. It’s not sherry napalming your village, though. This has a strangely delightful Macallan richness. On the nose, it is the most Macallan of non-Macallan whiskies. The bottle shape is like a Macallan from the future. What the fuck is Tamdhu trying to do? Be more Macallan than Macallan? I certainly don’t mind the nose; it’s decadant, if a bit unoriginal. The palate, thankfully, has an original detour. Sweet honeyed Wonderbread, Lindt chocolate infused with red chili and sea salt. This is the definition of a sultry whisky. The youth shows on the somewhat anticlimactic finish. From memory: better than Glenfarclas 105, better than Macallan Classic Cut, better than Glengoyne Cask Strength… better than the recent Aberlour A’Bunadh’s; not quite at the level as the old A’Bunadh’s, but the ABV is not as prominent either. You can have this with or without water. I am not sure. I must save some of this delicious bottle for a blind tasting with all the NAS sherries I have, which includes unopened batches in the 30s of A’bunadh... Presumptive mark: 91/100

It’s nice to see new distilleries still making honest whisky. Age statement, 46%, non-chillfiltered, a clear bottle that does not hide its pale beauty, and a faint meaty bold Mortlachian, Craigellachian character lurking in a slyly light body. Grassy, walnuts, cereal, and underripe melons and coconuts on the nose. On the palate, somehow light and oily at the same time. A little salt and tanginess makes it pop. A definite mineral finish with vanilla and a complementary slight Sulphur. I recently opened this bottle, and I am impressed so far. I will be enjoying this and, probably, plenty more Arran expressions in the future. Presumptive mark: 86/100

Paid $62 for this bottle. This is a bottle kill review. I will try to summarize what this bottle offered. I might buy this again if on offer for $60 or less. Nose: Rye (usually) comes first. Then the bourbon. Then the peated Scotch. Doesn’t always happen this way, and it depends on what you’ve had before. Palate: Even more unpredictable than the nose. You get pine needles and dill, cinnamon and dark fruits, and a wee bit of… wait for it… campfire. Finish: My infinite bottle Pros: It’s got a Beatles-like charm. Every now again, the peat will become more prominent for no good reason, like Ringo Starr taking the lead vocals in Yellow Submarine. Cons: Schizophrenia cannot be cured; it can only be managed Slightly costlier, but objectively better: High West Bourye. So much more focused without the peated Scotch mixed in. So good. Final Mark: 86/100 (range 84-87. N = 5)

Paid $35 for this bottle. This is a bottle kill review. I will try to summarize what this bottle offered. I found this on sale. The normal price will be around $40-60. This is a decent whisky. I would get it again if I can find it for $40 or less. Otherwise, for entry level Compass Box, I would stick with their King Street offerings. For a few bucks more, Spice Tree is great. Nose: young, fruity and floral. A tad too much acetone. Yes, there is oak. Palate: malty, orchard fruits. In the back, there is some older stuff adding a delicate oily hibiscus. Yes, there is oak. Finish: spiciness picks up. Pretty standard. Cloves and cinnamon. Light honey and citrus. Yes, there is oak. Pros: You get a lot of complexity for the price Cons: The oak is actually not what unbalances this; it’s that too-young acetone note. Slightly cheaper, similar profile, and recommended: Deanston Virgin Oak Slightly costlier, similar profile, and recommended: Balvenie 12 year Single Barrel First Fill Final Mark: 79/100 (range 77-82. N = 5)

Age: NAS Alcohol: 46.3% Paid: $33 Maturation: Ex-bourbon and virgin American oak This is how you unapologetically leave off an age statement. Price it well below the top shelf stuff, give it an honest ABV, and use some virgin oak trickery to complete the subtractive maturation process. You can’t expect something less than $40 to blow your socks off, but there are no complaints from me about this whisky. Bright, honey lemon tea. Definite oaky base notes. Spiciness takes over on the palate before the citrus and oak tannins re-emerge on the finish. There’s subdued vanilla throughout. The time in the virgin oak really takes out any unpleasant sharpness or metallicness that’s expected in a cheap NAS whisky. This can handle some water too; livens up the nose without affecting the taste too much. MARK: 81/100. Recommended purchase.

Age: 8 years Alcohol: 43% Paid: $42 I’m sorry, but Bunnahabhain to me should always be well sherried and briney – like taking Glendronach and blending it with Old Pulteney. This G&M young, peated ex-sherry Bunna is nothing like the house style, and, I must say, is disappointing even at its low price and no frills independent bottling. Gordon & MacPhail is not exactly your precious snowflake of an independent bottler that needs our support or protection. They put out more bottles than many Scottish distilleries, and I fully expect them to shrug every now and again, and just put out mediocre, generic stuff. This is a generic dram that was bottled too immature, and without a real purpose. It’s flat cereal, flat fruits, with peat that’s not particularly interested in picking up the slack and dominating the palate. Where is the brine? Where are the spices? I just feel a little more wood oils from a more active cask or longer maturation would bring out more flavors. This fails to highlight the pros of a young whisky. It’s drinkable, I guess; just horribly uninspired. MARK: 75/100. Not recommended

Age: NAS Alcohol: 48.9% Paid: $107 Components: 1: 38.5% 14 year old Caol Ila matured in refill American oak hogshead 2: 27.1% 30 year old Caol Ila matured in refill American oak hogshead 3: 24.1% 20 year old Clynelish matured in rejuvenated American oak hogshead 4: 10.3% blend of Clynelish, Teaninch, and Dailuaine matured in “highly active” new French oak hybdif barrels This remains one of my favorite whiskies of all time. Over a quarter of this blend is 30 year old Caol Ila. Caol Ilas age exceptionally well, and become this decadent, refined, sultry, oily creature. What makes this bottle a true piece of art is that the other 72.9% of the ingredients make this better than a 30 yeasr old Caol Ila. Gentle meaty and hickory peat is on the nose that hints at how oily and waxy this will be on the palate. Soft fruity notes, with a balanced assortment of leathers, salts, and oaks. The palate and finish are a combination of the patiently immaculate oily, savoury, citrusy peat from the aged Caol Ila; the waxy, floral, acetones of the aged Clynelish; with just the right amount of spikiness from the younger ingredients. This just may be the greatest affordable blended malt ever. MARK: 96/100. If you can still find it, buy it!

Age: 5 years old Alcohol: 58.5% Maturation: Ex-Bourbon cask with finishing in ex-French Syrah casks from Rhone Valley Paid: $182 (Travel retail exclusive) This is the only x.2 Octomore I have tried and, as is the rule with travel retail exclusives, it is disappointing. The consolation prize is that it’s still an enjoyable whisky, but not for $182. Red wine and volcanic ash is a strange combination. The explorations of peat and red wine by Springbank, with their Longrow Red series are more to my liking because they show me that wine is missing more alcohol and some peat. Octomore 7.2 looks at things from the other way around: Is a peat monster missing some wine? No. This is not an improvement over the x.1s. The cheapest and easiest to find Octomore in my area is the 6.1, and it is much better without the wine influence. Some water is mandatory with this 7.2, otherwise you get this awkward ash polluted with Syrah. Even with water, it just brings out the buttery and savory goodness that the basic 6.1 and 7.1 already has in abundance. The arrival is surprisingly delicate for the high ABV, but this one also finishes bitterer compared to the x.1s. MARK: 88/100. Not recommended. If you want to spend money on an Octomore, try x.1 and x.3s.