Lagavulin 8 Year

I’m afraid my new career as a whisky tasting critic is not going so well. Try as I might, I just can’t seem to get the hang of analyzing a dram. I have all of the appropriate accoutrements such as a Glencairn®, and 3 different whisky wheel charts listing over 200 aromas. In addition, there’s an eyedropper capable of delivering a perfect drop of water, an assortment of other glassware, and a multitude of poetically written reviews from this site to act as roadmaps. Despite all of this, my nose seems incapable of discerning more than a dozen basic fragrances. I’m sure a lifetime of taste bud torturing by habaneros and Cohiba Esplandidos hasn’t helped. Anyway, my apologies for the extensive prelude and my review of the Lagavulin 8 goes as follows: The color is a very pale straw reminiscent of its neighbor, Ardbeg 10, and giving a favorable impression of natural appearance. On the nose, the typical Lagavulin smoke is apparent, but, surprisingly, to a lesser degree than big brother, Lagavulin 16. Also, a different smoke as well; perhaps more ashy and much less mellow. Knowing phenols diminish with aging, one would expect the reverse to be true, but in the case of peatiness and its friendship with the nose, at a certain point I believe more becomes less. Next, some clever tacking with the glass is necessary to navigate the smoke and 48% ABV to find what else is lurking. A little citrus, a touch of oaken vanilla, and seaweed on a rocky coastline stir the imagination and some great memories of Britain and Ireland. On the palate, it’s dry and smooth despite the alcohol content; again citrus (maybe lemon), very little smoke, a touch of pepper and honeyed vanilla. The finish is satisfying and lengthy enough. No question, a great whisky, but certainly lacking the complexity and character of its older brothers. Lagavulin paid homage to 19th century whisky writer, Alfred Barnard, with this release, and it's a welcome addition to the expressions marking their 200th anniversary celebration.