Lagavulin The Ink of Legends (12-year cask strength 2023 release) sells for around $200. This is the first Lagavulin 12 that is perhaps not a Lagavulin 12. Lagavulin 12, for Islay peatheads, is as recognizable and as traditional as Jesus Christ. Recently, the powers that be, have decided that Jesus needs to be more modern, leading up to the 2022 version, The Flames of the Phoenix, which included some virgin oak cask-finishing. That release was very nice, and, in my opinion, worth the $170 that I paid for it. It was Jesus Christ with eye-liner and a Bohemian neck warmer, but I could still tell it was Jesus. This 2023 version has been finished in Don Julio Anejo Tequila barrels. It is, on the nose, still Lagavulin 12 – a saline, peppery, beefy beast that seems even more awesome than any prior release that I’ve nosed. The tequila barrels, on the nose, are beautifully sympathetic to the base whisky, adding power to the Son of Islay without bringing any attention to tequila. On the palate, however, tequila vies for attention, and when you smack your mouth and do the gustatory equivalent of squinting your eyes, it’s hard to tell if this is still Jesus Christ, or Jared Leto playing Jesus Christ. This is the sweetest Lagavulin 12 for sure. But the sweetness is a honied agave sweetness that immediately clashes with the oak, ash and citrus notes of a normal Lagavulin 12. I suppose the idea is to invoke the layman’s association between tequila, salt, and limes; but that is a terrible combination. If your goal is to knock back some Patron and get shitfaced, then I guess salt and limes can be a good distraction from the alcohol burn, but it is actually not a good flavor combination. I will stop short of calling this release blasphemous, because a cask-strength Lagavulin spirit aged in a bourbon barrel for around 12 years is such a rugged specimen that it can withstand strange cask finishes. But I will call this release disappointing because the cask finish seems to so unnecessary and adds nothing except some confusion to the palate and finish. I have always felt that Lagavulin 12 can be $200 on the shelf, and I would be happy to pay that price. Now that they finally release a $200 bottling, they fuck up, and this bottle is not worth it. What’s frustrating is that their intentions were clearly not to rip off the consumer by cutting costs in production; their intentions were to try and make a truly impeccable and timeless whisky more appealing to the new marketing target of the whisky industry: faithless newly minted adults who are actually still children.