Longrow 18 Year

Dry and spicy , peat as needed. Very sharp finish

Springbank motherflubbing distillery! They keep getting better. Because they put the extra effort to do whiskies right, I’m going to be a little extra in singing my praises. The bottle I am enjoying now was bottled on March 23, 2018. You cannot hurry into an aged Springbank product, least of all Longrow 18. You pour it, and let it air for 15 minutes. This is an expensive bottle, so you don’t want to rush the experience. First, marvel at the bottle. Scotch has become about this prestige thing – feigned luxury and exclusivity; fancy clothes for fancy bottles; in these sordid whisky fests in the U.S., where your outfit better be more expensive than the expensive entry fee. Springbank is the plain-clothed marvel; white T-shirt and jeans, in a room full of Tom Ford suits and dresses. It’s all about what is inside. Confidence and character. The nose. THE NOSE! Pickled mangoes. Tangerines. Creamy and thick for something that’s only 46% ABV. The peat is floral and meaty at the same time, like flowers that have just started to wilt. Or that meat flower… whatchamacallit? I’m no botanist. Anways… a fragrant saltiness. Rather than the cool rocky coasts of Scotland, the nose takes you to a tropical island. But one where things are starting to pickle. It’s characteristic of a good Springbank, and this one nails it. Longrow 18 is not something most people will automatically like. It is what some reviewers would call challenging. It does not have the universal superficial appeal of a calendar model, a Prince Charming, a Princess Fiona before she turns into an ogress. Longrow 18 is Shrek. Good whiskies are like onions. They have layers. Missed the reference? Watch the movie (the original). You will not turn into a dapper young buck holding a dram of Longrow 18 in your hand, like if you hand an old mahogany Macallan. You may turn into an ogre, or ogress, or Ralphy. And you will be beautiful, like Ralphy. That dude – you can be him for Hallowe’en… not a bad idea for a whisky tasting theme actually. The palate. Soft, mouthcoating arrival that takes time to unravel. Tobacco, overripe starfruit, a little honey, a little citrus. Medium spice with a lot of complexity. White pepper. A little cinnamon, nutmeg, and fennel seed. And then there’s weird flavors that somehow add to the balance; the beauty of the thing. A taste like a wet sock smells, like one you’ve worn for an hour after stepping into a puddle. A seaweed umaminess… see? An onion has layers. Longrow 18 epitomizes the distillery that refuses to change. It does nothing to try to reach into new markets; to change its flavors to appeal to the common trepid consumer who likes to stay at the fringes of every adventure. This whisky will never come to you, if you are standing way over there, in the Pappy van Winkle line, like a baroque cow. You must come to it. The finish. Long, mercurial, chimeric. A peat that walks the line between a tobacco smoke and a meaty smoke. A slight matchstick Sulphur – that’s not just okay; that’s quite lovely. A potpourri of fruit jams. Some roasted nuts. It’s well rounded, and evolving. And the next sip will be something different. Like the truly great whiskies, this one changes for the better with time in the bottle, and also with time in the glass. So, what is the best distillery? Some people are offended by the question. Some have the patience to rationalize a political answer. “It’s all subjective, and depending on your taste. It’s like I might say that Brussel sprouts are the best vegetable, while you can just as assuredly say spinach. There is no single right answer.” But there is, so just stop. It’s Springbank. Mark: 96/100

Nose: At first encounter the nose seemed to be more like a Springbank than than a Longrow. There was a little vanilla, malted barley, a soft briny maritime note, some leather armchair but only a faint sooty smoke. There was also a definite earthy aroma from the dunnage and some woody hints like old cigar boxes. Over time the aromas evolved and melded together and light honey and dried fruit aromas (apples, pears, prunes) appeared. A deep, enveloping, oaky smokiness gradually emerged to eventually present what is probably the most elegant and sophisticated smoky nose I’ve experienced. A calm, soft, huge and fragrant smoke that makes anything issuing from the Hebridean islands seem brash and callow. Palate: A soft and slightly briny arrival, which became saltier and quite spicy in the development. Ginger, but not fresh ginger - more like powdered ginger. Very lightly oily, but not mouth-coating, and also slightly dry. Light fruity notes, but again not fresh juicy fruit - older, like dried fruits soaked in water to reconstitute for cooking. Once again over time the palate opened and gained considerable polish, eventually becoming broad, rich and mellow. The whisky seemed to just float into the mouth and gradually inhabit the whole head, becoming the focus of all one’s attention. Finish: Medium, ginger spice - even peppery. A little sour salt and a hint of smoke or ash at the fade-out with just the perfect amount of sweetness to balance the briny and sour notes. This review compiles notes from many tastes of batches over the last decade and is a summary of my final impressions. This whisky is both subtle and tightly wrapped and it requires a couple of weeks to wake up after initial opening, and 20 minutes rest in the glass with a couple of drops of water is strongly recommended. The first time I tasted it I was not that impressed with Longrow 18, but it was my palate that was lacking - not the whisky. Over time I came to fall in love with its charms and appreciate its blossoming as it opens up from its long slumber in the bottle. I consider it, and particularly the most recent batches, to be just a hair's breadth away from faultless. It is characterful, satisfying, mellow and smooth with endless layering and depths as great as the sounding seas. Truly a top shelf dram. There have been three changes to the label over the years: The first, from 2008-2010 was a blueish purple label. The second, from 2011-3013, was a yellow-beige label, and the current batches have a white label with a prominent “18” in purple. There are slight batch variations but they are subtle changes of profile and not big differences in quality. That said, for me the current releases are the best it has ever been. “A bat's squeak away from perfect” : 92/100 (5 stars)