Tastes

Nose is rum raisins, chocolate cherry cordials, blood oranges, hazelnuts, apple tarts, and slight cappuccino lightening mildly as it transitions into more citrus-forward notes on the palate, with sherry sweetness, fruitcake, dried leaves, and mild sultanas hiding deep underneath the rich palate. Finish is long and slightly bitter, with figs, raisins, and faint tobacco leaf presiding. Very similar to Aberlour A'Bunadh, but manages to be a sherry bomb without as big a sherry sweetness, and not as much heat for only being bottled at a slightly lower proof (A'Bunadh is at 120). A'Bunadh as I recall had a bit more solvent-character and papaya and honey on the finish, along with a bit of peppery-ness which are absent in the Edradour. Stellar in every respect.

The dram has a potent nose of dark honey, cereal, a distinct leather begotten by oloroso cash finishing, bran muffins, raisin cookies, and Fig Newtons. Palate is semi-sweet, with hazelnuts, yeast extract, oranges, cinnamon, faint nutmeg which then dries into a medium finish with more of the leather and a bit of oak. The label mentions peat--there's none of that there. It is a part of a broader regional description and, upon investigating the flavor contained within, it seems more a branding mishap as there's not a trace of it--quite plausible given the rather disheveled appearance of the bottle. The sherry cask used was old and musty, about as much so as any sherry cask finishing in scotch can become. After contemplating the roof of my mouth for a few minutes, a slight meat taste emerges along with cocoa powder. The meat lingers and even becomes a bit like steak or Worcestershire sauce. It's not off putting at all; rather, it confirms the presence of well aged scotch aged in a very old used sherry cask.

Nose of tropical fruit, papaya, pear, roasted honey, and faint floral notes. In the palate, the peat becomes more apparent, with cracked white pepper with brine. Medium mouthfeel yielding to a medium finish with more of the white pepper and tropical fruit, although a biscuity malt note appears if you wait for it.

Nose is marmalade, cottage cheese, butter, rubber, lemon rind, peat smoke, and loads of funk. In the palate there's ample peat, with lots of soot and ash, medium brine, before giving way to a long finish full of tar, ash, and a strong drying bitterness rife with peat smoke. Seriously one of the best Islays I've ever had.

Nose consists of marmalade, pistachios, and almond butter overriding a faint bread character (almost like sponge cake) before giving way to a wallop of black pepper (fruity, as it smells before the peppercorns are cracked). Palate has punchy rye spice, with citrus and vanilla wafers coming forward. Finish is medium, with a definite proof heat that dries back into the pepper and faint char.

Nose is wet leaves, Red Hots, sugar-cured bacon, honey-glazed ham, baked salmon, and red licorice. In the palate, the sherry and peat both become more present, with cracked pepper, black cherries, rubber, blood oranges, Band-Aids, and faint coffee yielding to a finish of mild campfire smoke, lingering unsweetened cocoa and more of that savory roast flavor. Finish is medium long, and the dram coats the mouth well. A minute pondering the roof of my mouth with my tongue and the coffee and chocolate get the final word. A really unique whisky, in no small regards due to its highly unusual nose.

Oddly, it's an enjoyable bottle, but not my favorite from the series for precisely a reason which, in other bottles, would be a revered prize: it's almost perfectly balanced! In fact, it's TOO balanced. Most Ardbeg bottles have an aggressive flavor strain running through them, be it a strident ash-heap, engine char, campfire smoke (Ardbog); a musty, mushroom and cottage cheese laden funk (Supernova); a kale and seaweed-forward vegetable medley (Kelpie); or some other assertive bent. Galileo has almost all of those, but they have a fair degree of self-restraint...there just isn't a punch like the others from the series. What does make the bottle rather enjoyable, and a standout among Ardbegs, is the number of unique taste notes it contains: the nose has medicinal and Band-Aid characteristics to be sure, but a surprising amount of citrus in it as well, such as orange rind, marmalade, white grapes, banana (not so much clove), and a bit of grass, which give way to more malt-forward notes such as nugget, butterscotch, and meringue. These are present in other Ardbegs, but Galileo does play a better host than other releases. Still, the showing just doesn't provide the in-your-face flavor showcase I have come to expect from Islay's most edgy distillery. The nose is the most fulfilling part. Palate thins a bit, with a mild pepper and ash finishing off into a medium, oily slightly drying finish which, regrettably, is again rather thin (in distinction to drams like Uigeadail where it goes on for days). There's a bit of solvent, pencil eraser, bubble gum, and perhaps brown sugar, but it's over too soon. Good, though not a standout Ardbeg. Still, it's better than most things gracing the shelves.

The nose erupts with praline, barrel spice, brown sugar, toffee, with a gentle twist of vanilla and dark fruits, all mingled with a strident alcohol presence. In the palate, there’s a more pronounced nuttiness, tobacco leaf, and loads of rye spice. The finish is brief, but punchy, with a highly effervescent ethanol charging its way off the tongue as the moderate mouthfeel dissolves almost instantly, leaving behind a punch of proof heat, more rye spice and tobacco leaf, and even a slight creaminess. Further sips found molasses, honey, clove, and some other faint woody notes. Ultimately, this whiskey will rise or fall in your estimation by how much enjoy the confluence of high rye and high proof. For those like myself who are slow, pensive sippers, the marriage does well, and may offer a more viable step down from the assertiveness of say, an older Elijah Craig Barrel Proof…albeit only a step.