Tastes

What many of us thought would be written as a metal song has turned out to be more of a ballad, and that’s… kind of a beautiful thing. As a transplant to WA, there have been rumblings of an American Peated Single Malt created by Westland Distillery for some time. I remember moving here in 2018 and even then, the right questions posed during a distillery tour would unearth (pun intended) where they’d set their sites. It wasn't long after, with the announcement of their Outpost Range, they solidified it and gave it a name: Solum. Finally! For the first time in history, an all American Peated Single Malt to rival the likes of Laphroaig, Caol Ila, Bruichladdich and so many others! As a huge fan of boisterous peated whisk(e)ys, I waited eagerly, salivating at the prospect. But truth be told, that’s not what we got. As a Westland fan, admittedly I was a bit disappointed upon finally nosing this dram. It wasn’t near the ppm of any potent Scotch. I thought I’d be chewing on saddle leather, pipe tobacco, clay, and earthy tones -- yet here was Solum, seemingly subdued, showcasing a bouquet of floral and botanical notes. I didn't get it. I had the massive privilege of attending the Solum Symposium, an event hosted by Westland Distillery before the release of Solum. There, I, and many others learned that American peat isn't the same beast as Scottish peat. Unlike the dried up peat bogs many use for their whisk(e)ys, Westland chose to use peat from wet, inland bogs, trying their best to protect this resource and maintain crucial ecosystems within their chosen location. This simply isn't Scottish peat. The fact is, to really appreciate Solum, you have to shift your perspective. The team at Westland set out to honor terroir, quite literally the WA soil (peat) from which this whiskey is derived. Within that, they’ve achieved something elegant and elevated. It’s not a whiskey kissed by the sea or beaten by coastal winds. It not a whiskey that tastes like “you just kissed a mermaid that ate barbecue.” (Laphroaig, your marketing really is the best) WA peat is altogether different. On first nose, I found floral tones, vanilla, creamy citrus, raspberry, pie crust, and cantaloupe. It's bright and eager, with peat subtly playing in the background. Upon letting the dram breathe a bit, there were some dried red fruits, cocoa powder, wood, a hint of smoke, and some malty notes true to the character of most Westland offerings. Adding a drop opened things up a bit on the nose, with strawberry short cake, and confectionary sugar. This whiskey is balanced. I found the mouth to be where the smoke is most prevalent. It's medium to full-bodied, offering wood-fired pizza crust with the perfect char, oak, ripe melon, pepper, a little baking spice, alongside a touch of clove and dark cherry. There's a nice syrupiness to it. The drop I added, in my opinion, took away too much of the bite. I liked it better before. The finish is long lasting and dry with a salty after tone. At 100 proof, Solum offered the perfect amount of warmth, slowly moving up from my chest onto the back of my tongue. This was less a linger and more a slow dance at the end of each sip. I was consistently longing for more. So what do we have? I my mind, what we have is something I want on my shelve at all times. It's rich and brilliant, calculated and refined. It has the genuine signature of Westland, and reflects their desire to push boundaries and explore the craft. Solum casts a new light on peat, forges a new path, and is beautifully poetic. Instead of taking the shape of machete, it's a thoughtfully crafted katana. Rather than comparing it to other peated drams, Solum deserves to be appreciated under its own weight, all twenty-thousand decaying years of it.

Highland Park Cask Strength 3 is anything but subtle. If your not looking for "wow," then you need to look elsewhere. Like all these HP Cask Strength expressions, these are obnoxiously bold, over the top, and incredibly exciting. I recently described HP Cask Strength 3 to a friend and likened it to an Olympic Gymnast. These show up to their event in pristine shape. With muscles some have never seen before, onlookers knows these athletes are capable of WAY more than they could ever imagine. All at once, the gymnast goes full sprint, summersaulting, leaping, flipping in a diverse combination of twists and turns one can only describe as an orchid being born out of fire. It's aggressive, yet beautiful - forceful, yet controlled. This is Highland Park Cask Strength at it's core. It's every bit in your face, yet somehow still displays the craft and elegance Highland Park is known for. It's a Monster Energy drink can full of roses, and I'm... more than OK with it. The nose houses caramel and Werther's Originals with orange peel, apricot, and raisin. There's a creamy note that subdues other harsher elements alongside spun sugar, and dried corn. Pineapple offers a tropical note and adding a drop of water allows grilled corn to come through. On the palate, there's bold sweetness with a massive heat. Quite frankly, pulling out the individual components is rather difficult till you add a drop of water. Then, you begin to taste maple, oak, cinnamon, pancake, and biscuits. This dram has a buttery and savory side to it. Yeah it's a wood chipper, but a wood chipper that reads novels and listens to NPR. I think it goes without saying that this dram packs a punch when it comes to finish. Calling it "lingering" would be a gross understatement. It full on builds a campfire in your esophagus and stays the night under a sky full of stars. It then wakes up refreshed and says, " I think I could stay and extra night," and you let it, for fear it will beat you up if you deny it the opportunity. All that said, this is not a Highland Park you share with friends, or neighbors, or people you love. This is a Highland Park you share with "that" person, the person that wants the spectacle - the person who prefers a milk leaf on their latte while they watch Grave Digger crush 12 school buses.

This was a delightful whisk(e)y. It was well balanced and offered something adventurous. I wish I’d have purchased more than one bottle. If you stumble upon it, scoop it up.

Overall, a rather mello Lagavulin offering. It’s enjoyable, providing a nice entry-level Lagavulin, but I’d recommend the 16 year over this. This has its place, but lacks the dried red fruits and richer, deeper complexity one can get from standard Lag.

Double Cask seems to skip leg day. As I’ve said in the past, I have a love/hate relationship with The Macallan. They span the gamut of having incredible product while floating so much “meh.” It’s disheartening, at least to me. There’s nothing inherently wrong with this dram, it’s just that what Double Cask offers isn’t nearly as interesting or complex as what other distilleries offer at the same price point. That isn’t to say that Double Cask doesn’t have any merit. Quite the contrary. The nose is compelling and holds your attention. The thing I appreciate most is that you have to really search the dram and get to know it and treasure what it offers. But then you taste it, and… it’s gone. The mouthfeel is light and the finish fleeting. One gets a sense of being a bit cheated because the intimacy gained in the beginning doesn’t carry over to the rest of the experience. It’s like being on a date in which you discover during cocktails that you have a great fondness for the same musical artist , only to find out as you start eating dinner that your date writes Seinfeld fanfic, replacing Jerry, Elaine, George, and Kramer with characters from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Cats. Wait, what!? But we were doing so well. All that said, there is still something interesting here, but first impressions are deceiving, and this scotch leaves you wanting. Spend the extra $6 on Highland Park 12, so the experience is full from beginning to end.