Tastes

This is the last bottle of Macallan I have that I will open, I promise. This is the 2017 edition of the 18 year old, coming in a glossy purple box. I bought it for $230. You might still be able to find it on shelves for $200-300. Future value of this is probably $1000. I shouldn’t have done it, but sometimes you just have to have something that is the whisky equivalent of a blowjob. Purple box Macallan 18 sherry oak is like getting head in the back of the club. $200 might be fair for that. The new black box Macallan 18 sherry oak is like getting hit in the back of the head with a club. Do you see how, if you are stuck on branding, and you had to choose between getting head in a club and getting hit in the head with a club, you may be prone to pay more to get head than the intrinsic value of getting head? That is the secret to the exorbitant value of old Macallan’s. Every time they rebrand and the quality gets ponderously lower, the older Macallan’s become even more valuable. Except, I seriously do not know if the current line up can hold up as investments when they inevitably release even more undrinkable shite. We may have reached a threshold where buying new Macallan is no longer smart for consuming or investing purposes. I thought I would never give the investment advice to snatch up purple box Macallans at $300, but this is the last accessible Macallan that is delicious, and that is sure to appreciate. High quality oak, very little sulfur, rich sherry influence, and a balanced finish. It is a simple, but precise pleasure. I still think the Billy Walker Glendronach 18’s are better in all aspects, but you aren’t going to sell a Glendronach 18 to a Rolex-wearing ponce. Collecting, hoarding, flipping, investing, and otherwise not drinking the bottles of Macallan that you buy should be completely acceptable behavior in our current environment. Macallan should be celebrated as a protector of single malt Scotch, draining the resources of the astute investors and the cluelessly wealthy so that other brands can be relatively reserved for the enthusiasts. Score: * (unforgettably good) How much does a bottle cost?: Too much for consumption How much do I think a bottle is worth?: $180 (if judging only the intrinsic value of the liquid)

When I first started writing reviews on Distiller, the Macallan 12 Sherry Oak came in a glossy brown box, and it would be one of my top recommendations for someone looking to start their single malt journey. Today, Macallan 12 Sherry Oak is my recommendation if you want to end your journey. I was at a bar that was selling the modern black box Macallan 12 for $10 for 1.5 oz pours. But because this was a company event, this shit and Johnnie Walker Black were the scotches being poured for free. That’s how I found myself trying Mac 12 again. It was so bad that I needed one JW Black to get the bad taste out of my mouth, and then I drank water for the rest of the night; and then I never drank whisky again for over 3 months. Macallan 12 Sherry Oak today does not have any of the luxurious rich sherry of previous versions. For the first few seconds on the palate, there is sherry per se. As in, it’s in my mouth, and I’m like, “Oh, sultanas. Meh, some fruits.” And maybe 3-5 seconds later, it just becomes harsh bitter oak and sulfur. I never thought I would call an age-stated Macallan harsh; I thought it would be guilty of being “smooth” and flavorless, but it actually is HARSH and offensive punishment if you leave it in your mouth. And this is perhaps purposefully engineered for the new horde of whisky “enthusiasts”, who are in a rush, and find the most pleasureful part of the experience is swallowing. This dram was so depressing I almost ended my whisky journey. On the upside, I can now give solid advice to those still beginning their single malt journey. Avoid Macallan. I am like their counter-ambassador. On that night, this is what I told anyone who solicited my advice, and that half-full bottle of Macallan 12 Sherry Oak, did not even empty even though there were dozens of people at the event and it was free. I did my job. The best way to improve in chess, and most things in life, is not to try and find the brilliant moves, but to not fucking blunder. Very few people respect this fact. Avoid blundering, and you will automatically become one of the elite. With single malt scotch, the first blunder to avoid is now blaringly obvious. Don’t pay to drink Macallan ever. Follow this one rule, and you will be wiser than most scotch drinkers. Paying to collect Macallan is a different topic… for an upcoming review. Score: Minus (unforgettably bad) How much does a bottle cost?: $70-90 How much do I think a bottle is worth?: 0

Ah, yes, my favorite single malt from Gao, India. I’ve just worked my way through my second bottle of this expressive whisky. This has become a go-to when I want every tastebud overwhelmed. To anthropomorphize this whisky is to evoke someone fantastically gay, like Liberace. Untraditional; unmistakable; undeniably fabulous. I suppose the only problem is only a problem if you’re a weird whisky reviewer or enthusiast such as myself. Sometimes we render the criticism that a bottle tastes great on its own, but side-by-side with another similar whisky, and the flaws show. That really shouldn’t be valid criticism because you should just stop having this whisky side-by-side with other whiskies and enjoy this for what it is. But, side-by-side with a similarly bold and similarly priced Ardbeg Uigeadail, or even the cheaper and more muted Amrut Fusion, this Paul John Peated Select Cask just doesn’t seem composed, and even a little schizoaffective. Like, really, if they put coloring in this whisky, it shouldn’t be E150a; it should be Skittles. This whisky just has all the flavors all the time. Hickory sweetness, fruity, salty, savory, and so much exotic spiciness. The illusion of terroir overtakes me, and I just want to make shit up about how they peated the barley in a tandoor, and that’s how you get the tandoori chicken note. I am probably going to buy a third bottle of this at some point so I can have extravagant madness in a glass whenever I am in the mood again. Score: * (unforgettably good) How much does a bottle cost?: $80-100 How much do I think a bottle is worth?: $90

After a long hiatus, I am back! I have less time for whisky and drink less whisky these days, so I try to make sure that when I do drink, it is something worthwhile; and I become even more upset when I drink something that is not worthwhile. Port Charlotte 10 Year Heavily Peated Islay Single Malt has nothing to be upset about. It is affordable, fairly available, and delicious. It is in fact the quintessential Islay scotch currently. With the old “big 3” of Ardbeg, Laphroaig, and Lagavulin getting more expensive and producing less quality, this is now clearly the go-to bottle for a peaty good time. 50% ABV is the perfect strength for this complicated whisky. 10 years is probably the perfect age. What makes modern Port Charlotte stand out is its wonderful savoriness; like an umami ramen broth. It has a proteinaceous richness that the other Islay distilleries used to have, but somehow lost. This bottle also offers a silky smooth vanilla sweetness, ample brine, hints of medicinal iodine, and a touch of a decaying farmy funk that is inexplicably lovely; but you’ll have to hunt down some pricier special edition Port Charlottes for the full funk experience. At $60-70, this is what Lagavulin 16 used to cost when I first started reviewing on this app. And this whisky is about as good as Lagavulin 16 was when it cost $60-70. Now that Laga 16 is more like $90-100, and tastes way worse, this expression is the current flag of Islay. It’s considerably better than the current Lagavulin 16; it’s twice as good as the current Ardbeg 10; and it’s 100 times better than the current Laphroaig 10. Score: ** (unimaginably good) How much does a bottle cost?: $60-70 How much do I think a bottle is worth?: $95 4 reviews in one! To complete the comparison, I think the current Lagavulin 16 is worth $60; the Ardbeg 10 is worth $50; and the Laphroaig 10 is worth 95 cents.

I have my own ideas about bourbon, and this is what a premium straight bourbon should taste like. At $130 per bottle, this is money well spent on a well aged and well blended bourbon. The whiskeymakers at Bardstown are reminiscent of those at Compass Box, creating blends with a sense of purpose, delivering challenging and tasty delights. Discovery series #2 is a boulangerie in Paris. The rich and complicated sweet and baking spice aromas are overwhelming and intoxicating on the nose alone. And then you take a sip, and it is surprisingly gentle for 61.1% ABV. The dark chocolate and raisins are well balanced with confectionary sugar, cinnamon, and pastry dough. Soft rye spices, oak, and pistachios emerge in a lengthy and satisfying finish. There are no bad notes. So many bourbons are being released immature and with bad notes. I’m talking about fusel alcohols, corn syrup, corn oil, nut oils, pumpkin, and raw peanuts. Some of these are well hidden in barrel strength ABV, and it seems a lot of NAS barrel strength bourbons from famous brands these days are being bought up and flipped in an unhealthy current bourbon market. I have recently tried barrel strength E.H. Taylor, Elijah Craig, Weller, and Stagg Jr., and these are bakeries in Cleveland. As I said, I have my own ideas about bourbon, and I’m not saying boulangeries in Paris are better than bakeries in Cleveland. But, bakeries in Cleveland should not cost as much. The first investment in oak maturation is not to add flavor to the whiskey, but to subtract bad notes. When you go above $100, you should get a properly matured bourbon without bad notes. If you find your barrel strength NAS of choice at retail price, go ahead and enjoy. But you should not pay secondary market pricing, which are as much as this Discovery series costs or even more, for bakeries in Cleveland. Just spend the money instead on retail prices for Barrell, Bardstown, Kentucky Owl, Old Carter, etc. Score: ** (unimaginably good) How much does a bottle cost?: $120-140 How much do I think a bottle is worth?: $160

Bottled in 2020. This is a $200 bottle that lacks intensity and complexity. Other than that, it’s perfectly fine. At 15 years, this is not very oaky, but it does smell and taste a little dusty, like an old Scotch - I guess aging in Vermont is different than aging in Kentucky. There’s tobacco, cinnamon powder, and sawdust with just the right amount of toasted oak. The palate has plenty of familiar caramel, vanilla, and honey; but there’s also a nice musty mushroom funk as well. This WhistlePig does not give itself away as a rye until the finish, which is a rather smooth linger of clove, black pepper, and cardamom. This rye is very drinkable, inoffensive, and sure to please people who are not that into ryes. The flavors are muted, but there’s great balance and maturity. It’s priced in the same league as Johnnie Walker Blue and is going to appeal to the same people who love Blue for its silky smooth refinement. Alas, I feel the refinement is created by holding back and watering down. For those unafraid of intensity and complexity and want to spend $200 on a bottle of rye, I am of course going to recommend the bottle I last reviewed, Kentucky Owl 10 year old rye Batch #3. Score: 0 (forgettable) How Much Does a Bottle Cost?: $190-230 How Much Do I Think a Bottle is Worth?: $110

I usually like to work my way through half a bottle over many months before writing a review. So, consider this an emergency review. I opened this bottle less than a month ago, and it is all I want to drink these days. I have 60-70 open bottles and I cannot reach for anything else unless it’s to compare it this Owl. And yes, right now, I like this better than WhistlePig Boss Hog Black Prince, side by side, without hesitation. The Black Prince is a simpleton compared to the Wise Owl. If I could be gifted a bottle of whiskey, and I could choose between another bottle of The Black Prince or another bottle of Kentucky Owl Rye Batch #3, despite The Black Prince being twice as expensive, I would pick the Owl easily. My taste buds are having a full-blown revolution. A few months ago, I would have told you that I don’t like rye. I like malt whiskies, then mezcal, then rum, then bourbon, then cognac/Armagnac, then rye. I thought I didn’t like the rye profile - it tasted cheap. The “ryes” I did like had to be fancied up by wood finishing or blending shenanigans: Bourye, Midwinter’s, and The Boss Hog. What I didn’t like about most ryes was the blast of rye spices up front. It felt like uncivilized peasant whiskey. It’s all about timing, and the spices belong in the later chapters. With this Owl, there is rich cherry, raspberries, doughnuts, and cake in the welcoming opening of this whiskey epic. The full complement of rye spices come after. Dill, clove, coriander, and a little menthol builds towards a long finish. I still had the taste of rye in my mouth after brushing my teeth. I could still imagine the taste the next day. This whiskey is complex. If you cover your glass and walk away for an hour, it becomes dark, dark chocolate with some umami broth. The balance between spirit and oak is perfect. The age is appreciated. I abhor the telltale nuttiness of too-young bourbons or ryes. There is no nuttiness here, but also no oaky bitterness. Nowadays, peat rarely captivates my nose or tastebuds anymore. I can have a Laphroaig 10, Lagavulin 16, or Ardbeg 10 as a warmup dram. I miss the days I could still taste the smoke after I brush my teeth. But now, I feel as if I found my gateway into an exciting new realm of flavors that will linger if only because of unfamiliarity, but I suspect there’s true intrinsic quality to this whiskey as well. My rating system only goes up to 3 stars, but I have scored a few single malts 4 stars. I will, for now, keep this one at 3 stars, simply because I am a novice at this flavor profile and I may feel differently as I try more ryes. But I feel like I did many years ago when I first tried Lagavulin 16, which is, as Kia Jeffries once said in an Akinyele song, albeit referring to something different from whiskey: “Put it in my mouth.” Score: *** (she said put it in her mouth) How Much Does a Bottle Cost?: $170-230 How Much Do I Think a Bottle is Worth?: $410

I’m not as gaga for this whiskey as I once was, when I tried a pour for $55 an ounce and instantly knew I had to buy a bottle without any regards to how much it would cost. Go figure that the first “rye” that I loved and the first bottle of rye that I bought was $480. My palate has changed since then; I recently had somewhat of a religious experience with a Kentucky Owl Rye Batch 3, and I’m finding that I’m starting to get a taste for actual rye, which the Boss Hog really isn’t. This is a category 5 hurricane of delicious flavors. The fruitiness hits you first with juicy white grapes, red delicious apples, raspberries, and plums. This is followed by waves of herbs and spices in an earthy, savory clay pot stock. The dill and coriander nip, however, is barely there. Even when I have this side-by-side with other finished ryes, like Midwinter Night’s Dram, this just doesn’t satisfy if what I’m looking for is rye flavor. But if I’m merely in the mood for something unlike anything made before it and completely bonkers with concentrated and complementary delicious flavors, The Black Prince still does not disappoint. The price for this whiskey is actually commendable. WhistlePig is brave for inciting the wrath of the average painfully frugal American bourbon/rye drinker, who questions anything over $50. This whiskey is age stated and at cask strength, so there’s no funny business. You get the sense that the armagnac casks were expensive and integral to creating a unique final product. I don’t know if those casks were in reality so expensive, but what’s important is that this whiskey is correctly priced for the market, right off the bat; and there is very little secondary market money to be made for flippers with this series of whiskey. I would much rather pay $500 to a store owner than to a dude I arranged to meet in a library parking lot, who paid $100 for the bottle just to re-sell it (maybe after doing questionable things with it). Score: ** (unimaginably good) How much does a bottle cost?: $400-600 How much do I think a bottle is worth?: $400