The first 2 editions of this Offerman line were solid, gimmick aside. I’m here for the Lagavulin. Adding the element of charred oak to an already fiery profile is an appealing prospect. I would’ve purchased this regardless, because once I find a limited release line that I enjoy, I stay true to it. It helps that the concept is intriguing. Let’s dive in. Nose: Campfire smoke, sulfur, sea salt. There’s also a heavy grapefruit and lemon citrus kick. Bandaid. Soft pretzel. Black bean, red pepper chili, though less than I expected. Sun-dried tomato. Black pepper, cinnamon, and oak. Palate: Custard out of the gate, followed by grapefruit and lemon. Caramel, vanilla, butterscotch, and toffee. Honeydew, green apple, and apricot. Vegetal peat, moss. Milk chocolate. Something akin to a coffee ice cream flavor. Some red berry mixed in there. Plenty of cinnamon, black pepper, and charred oak. Finish: Plenty of cinnamon heat and barrel char. The caramel, milk chocolate, vanilla, and toffee persists from the palate. A burst of grapefruit, lemon, lime, green apple, pear, and some floral notes. Moderate length finish. This is shockingly tame. I’ll admit, I did some projecting onto this one ahead of time, but this tame for an iteration Lagavulin. At least until the finish, which I’d consider assertive at the most. With that being said, it is tasty. Easy-going. Far more of an earthy profile as opposed to the maritime beastliness I’ve come to expect or Lagavulin. It drinks like a peated Highlander. Nothing wrong with that. I’d rather be surprised by these annual releases than feel like I’m buying the same thing over and over with fresh packaging. I had this at 4.0, but decided it deserved the quarter star bump for VFM. It’s the cheapest of the 11-Offerman-Lags—which is a rarity considering how overpriced these lines end up being once they catch public attention. Solid pour. 4.25/5.