Comparison Tasting: Highland Park - 70s v Today

Hello, Hello,

Lots to get through on this post so settle down please. Today we’re looking at a comparative tasting. First up look at this picture;

The 12 yo is from a tasting pack that I was given as a present recently. But the other one... just look at that. I picked up that bottle of Highland Park from an “antique” fair for £2 (along with some other gems – including an old bottling Bruichladdich mini - I couldn’t believe my luck).

To me there are 3 things of interest here;

1 – A old bottle gives the chance to compare to more recent whisky from the same distillery (albeit not the same standard bottling)

2 - A bit of detective work (well, googling) required to establish how old the whisky is.

3 – You will have spotted that the old HP bottle has a lower neck-fill, so it’s interesting to see what effect that has. Although that does mean that the comparison isn’t totally fair.

Taking the 2^nd point first. How old is the old bottling? Well by my reckoning I think it must be pre-1980 given that it’s listed as 70 Proof rather than 40% ABV (when that change in labeling took place). It has a 70s styling and it seems to be an imperial measure (i.e. I couldn’t see 5cl). Plus looking on google images other whisky sites seem to place this in the 1970s. So this is probably pushing 35 at least since it was bottled and may have been distilled at the end of the 60s. 

So how will it compare against a modern Highland Park. I poured out the two HPs side by side. Here are my notes.

Highland Park 8 Year Old (Gordon & McPhail 70s Bottle)

The 8 year old is much darker, more orange-y looking. It seems a bit odd at first but definitely whisky - sweet but damp to smell. At this point I was wondering what effect the low-level fill had. It seemed a tiny bit flat – not too much coming off the nose.

Giving it a few minutes before going in for a second sniff it certainly seemed old-fashioned – I was getting a strong smell of sherry or even navy rum. Basically it smells a bit like your Nan’s house. Or an old hotel. Or maybe a church. There was damp, stone and wood. But at the same time it was a comforting smell, from a place where people have enjoyed themselves in the past.

Other thoughts scribbled down - Christmas Pudding. Cold Ash. Old leather. A stone room on a winters night.

There was so much going on. It’s difficult to tell now how the aeration (leakage?) has affected it. I noticed the finish was a little… fuzzy. I mean that as opposed to definable as crisp or lingering. There was all this woody-Christmas cake going on but then it kind of turned a bit funny and died (sorry I'm not exactly painting tastes with words). The feeling I was left with was it was like watching a classic black and white film but a poor recording of it. The tracking goes a bit off now and again or you lose the sound ocassionally but there is still plenty to enjoy. The essence still seemed to remain.

Highland Park 12 Year Old (recent distillery bottling)

So how does it compare to Highland Park of today? This is hardly a direct comparison since it’s not the same distillery bottling. 

Just as well since this is really different. I found it difficult to draw a direct line between the two. Now, as far as I’m concerned HP12 is a great bottle. It’s difficult to beat as an all-rounder and I’m A Fan.  Side by side though these two are totally different. 

The colour is much lighter and straw-like. And the smell is a bit of sweet vegetation and rubbery. I got a little bit of sweet grain smell (I know it doesn’t have grain in it obviously). Egg noodles on the nose too, strangely.

It’s much lighter than the old HP and more zesty. It seems younger even though it’s the older of the two in terms of years (if you get what I mean). Tiny bit of smoke. Smooth and toasty. 

But it didn’t seem quite the whisky of my memory when up against this old bottle. I think in the interests of balance that I should have tried this one first since it is much lighter.

Conclusion

Well, using this slightly indirect comparison it seems that the signature taste of HP has definitely changed. It’s gone from stodgy 70s trifle to a light salad. Both have their merits and I found it very interesting to see the difference between eras.

It was also interesting to see what possible effect the low-fill level has. To explore that properly I guess I’d need to two bottles from the same era – one with a low-fill and one without. But from this tasting the low-fill wasn't the total ruination I had feared.

Happily for my interest in whisky (but sadly for my wallet) this now means that my interest has been piqued not just far and wide but also back in time. 

Look out for future comparative tastings to come – 90s Bruichladdich 10, 90s Glenliet 12 and 90s Chivas 12.

WW


08/10/14 - Just a note to add that I recently tried a distillery bottling of Highland Park 30, presumably going back to the early 80s. It tasted very much like the G&M reviewed above. I also tried a 25 year old Highland Park and it was quite different to the 30yo, more akin to the rest of the HP range. Can we deduce from that at some point in the last 30 years Highland Park has changed its signature style?

Bunnahabhain 12 Year Old

It’s taken me a while to get round to Bunnahabhain, I've previously given it a miss with my attention has being drawn to the more peaty/smoky whiskies from elsewhere on Islay. But now, thankfully, I've got around to picking up a bottle. 

And I'm glad I did as this stuff is very good. Three words came immediately to mind as I tried it – dry, spicy and full. As those words suggest it’s very tasty, almost savoury in a way. It has a sort of unsweet sherry flavour to it - by which I mean it has the fullness of flavour that sherried whisky has but without the sweetened taste.

There were oranges there too. But not like orange juice orange, this was more like opening a wooden crate that has whole oranges stored inside, but a crate that’s been at sea for a while. It has the promise of orange mingled with wood and salt. Also lurking in there was a touch of cigar and of leather. Very refined and very savoury.

This really strikes me as a very unique whisky. Very singular, a bit like Old Pulteney in the sense that it serves up something I've not really found elsewhere.

It looks wonderful in the glass too – dark caramel, it's the same colour as the singed top of a crème brulee.

It has a kind of dignified air about it. The packaging is not showy or shouty and I like that. The whisky generally is like the quiet guy that sits in the corner at a party rather than clamouring to be the centre of attention. But when you actually get around to speaking to them you find they actually have the most interesting things to say. Or maybe I'm getting carried away looking at the old fella on the bottle...

So, where was I? This is not a typical Islay, it’s not a typical anything. Pricing-wise it’s a slightly more expensive entry level bottle going for about £35. But it's worth picking up. For me personally getting this bottle was partly about completing  an Islay set (i.e. a bottle from every (working) distillery on the island) but it's without doubt worth picking up on its own merits.

WW

Glenfarclas 15 Year Old

Well, it’s been a long time since I last posted… I’m probably going to stop mentioning that since it’s how so many posts start. From now on in this has blog has moved from regular series of reviews to an occasional series. A very occasional series...

Mind you, in whisky terms these gaps are mere blips in the long maturation of this blog.  The only difference is that in the case of whisky things tend to get better with age, whereas this blog maintains a steady standard (of unexpurgated dreck).

So Glenfarclas 15 year old. An exellent whisky.

I was desperate to love this whisky. Even without trying it I have always had peculiar soft spot for Glenfarclas, I think mainly due to its amazing 1950s styling. The label oozes a kind old-fashioned classiness and distinction… like a grand old victorian theatre. So on a recent(ish) trip to Speyside I picked up this bottle following a tour of the distillery.

As an aside, having done the tour there was nothing there to dampen my ardour for Glenfarclas – it’s a very nice, friendly operation and wholly independent. It looks surprisingly industrial in its process – for example they have massive steel washbacks instead of wooden ones.  But then sometime I need to remind myself that they are operating within an industry and not running a whimsy factory.

A few days after getting home I popped the top off the bottle poured a glass of the dark sweet 15yo, took a nosing… and got blasted by a painful whiff of alcohol. I tamed it with a bit of water but something wasn’t quite right. It almost seemed a touch stale. Maybe I was wanting to like it too much and it wasn’t living up to my expectations but I couldn’t quite get a handle on the taste of it. It just seemed to burn and a be bit flat.

But fear not, I left it a few more days before trying again,  at the second time of asking it well and truly came through and every time since it’s proved itself to be a beautiful wee drop. I got a pleasant caramelised orange on the nose. It still looks the part that dark rich syrup colour but it’s so pleasantly sweet to the taste,  like drinking water that has been running over a tray of molten toffee. 

It lingers for so long too, like having something stuck in your teeth that you keep catching – but, you know, in a good way. The whole mouth feel is amazing.

What to make of the first try I’m not sure – either there was something that needed to happen within the bottle or, more likely, my tastebuds were having an off-day. I think it’s a salutatory lesson not to make any lasting judgments on just one taste.

Anyway I’m so glad it proved to be a winner - not least because it cost me £40. One of the best things I can say about it is that it’s distinctive too, it has a signature taste to it. The kind of whisky you could pick out of a line-up. What’s more I’ve got the 21 and 25 yo to try as well since they came in a tasting pack. Watch this space – I’m sure to have them reviewed this side of the heat-death of the universe.

Macallan Select Oak

What am I trying to describe when I talk about whisky?

When you read tasting notes or reviews people are always talking about particular flavours coming through. Take sherry. It’s one of the most common descriptors you see (naturally considering what's been in many of the whisky casks previously). And I do understand what that means. But then again, I don’t really drink sherry. I’ve tried it but probably only once or twice. But if I’m talking to someone that hasn’t had sherry before then it’s not that useful for short-hand. Which ultimately it led me to wonder if you could ever accurately describe what whisky tastes like to somebody that has never tasted whisky before. But that made my head hurt. I’ll leave that question for if I ever start up a Whisky and Metaphysics blog.

Anyway, from there I started to have a bit more sympathy with the Malt Whisky Society descriptions. Their highly esoteric descriptions are something I was mildly critical of a couple of posts ago - I’m nothing if not inconsistent. But I can see the value in linking whisky to time or place. Basically all of this preamble is a preface to what I’m about to write;

this whisky reminded me of Saturday evenings as a child.

 I don’t quite know why. It's not like I was knocking back single malt as 10 year old. But it’s a highly evocative mix and it took me to a place  that I’m not even sure existed. But it reminded me of being young on a Saturday tea-time. Maybe it’s something to do with the rich sweetness reminding me of old fashioned desserts. It also feels a bit stuffy, a bit musty. Not in a bad way, in fact it lends it a certain grandeur - the kind of smell you might expect to in the library of a stately home. Not that I lived in a stately home either, maybe just a badly ventilated one.

Imagine reading an old book and eating hot syrup sponge. That’s this whisky. I don’t remember ever doing those things together as a child but now I wish I had done.

I can give you the bits and bobs I wrote down – deep dark colour, treacle and toffee smell with a hint of old damp wood. Sweet orange peel. That’s what I got but I can’t put my finger why it feels so… retro. There’s something distinctly old-fashioned about this.

To be honest this trip down False Memory Syndrome Lane is a bit much for me. The sweetness is a little stifling, somehow constricting. I much prefer the Macallan 10 which from memory (clearly not that reliable) is a lot lighter and fresher. But it's still a good 'un.

Pricewise – it’s £40+ and only available to travel (I picked this up at the airport pretty much at random before an internal flight).  It's a 1 Litre bottle so that’s good value, but then again you can pick up the 10 year old for a similar price. This is a No Age Statement - no bad thing in and of itself but it does obfuscate things a little. There is an interesting article about NAS whisky here;

http://www.whiskyadvocateblog.com/2013/04/09/age-statements-how-important-are-they/

I might expand on that in the future but I’ll leave you with that link for now. 

Next time: more whisky, I should expect.

WW

Marks and Spencer Islay Single Malt

So then, supermarket own-brand 12yo Islay single malt whisky...

OK, so this is not just any supermarket own brand 12yo Islay Single Malt, this is Marks and Spencer etc etc… But still, what’s going on here?

In my experience, supermarket own-brand whisky is usually just cheap (and nasty) blends. Stuff that meets the bare minimum requirement to be called whisky and then is served up in plain label bottles that look as if they have been issued by a totalitarian state of a dystopian future. Having tried Sainsburys value whisky once (and never again) I assumed they buy up spirit from a range of distilleries, mix it together and put it out without any real concern for taste, consistency or reputation.

But recently I’ve noticed a number of own brand single-malt whiskies cropping up. The main supermarket chains seem to be doing them, typically offering ranges split geographically (Islay, Speyside, Highland etc). And they all seem to be over 10 years old too.  In theory it should be good stuff.

The thing that intrigues me the most is that the distilleries are anonymous – it’s not like supermarkets are acting like independent bottlers such as Gordon and McPhail. And obviously they aren’t building their own distilleries.  But on this M&S bottle there is no indication of which distillery it has come from. In order for it to be classed as Single Malt what’s in the bottle must be just from one distillery (although it can be from a variety of casks of the stated age or older). So it’s an interesting one. OK interesting might be pushing it but it's intriguing to consider that distilleries, usually very keen to protect their brand are also anonymously putting these on to the market.

 

Anyway, what’s it like? I can only talk about this one from Marks and Spencer but I’ve said previously that seemingly there’s no such thing as bad single malt and that still seems to hold true here. It’s got a nice dark colour and a sweet, ash smell to it. It’s quite smooth and smoky. Not the longest finish in the world. It reminded me of a darker coloured Benromach (it’s not – that’s a Speyside albeit a peaty one). It’s certainly drinkable and I don’t know if I’d be able to pick it out as the poor cousin in a line-up. It’s decent, it’s solid, I have no complaints.

Would I buy it? To be honest I’m not sure. It’s relatively cheap at £29 and it’s a decent quality so I’d have no problem enjoying a dram of it. I’m not sure I could bring myself to proudly serve it to guest though – pure snobbery I’m sure, but as a whole it’s lacking a bit of love. I want to try out whisky from different distilleries not a generic Highland or Islay malt bought up by the big supermarket chains on the lowest margin possible.

You could argue that the whisky should speak for itself, but I’d counter the own brand stuff  probably has less character as it tries for wider appeal – and surely it can’t be the best stuff the distilleries flog off to the likes of Tesco can it?

Maybe if you worked out which distillery it was (which I suppose wouldn’t be too difficult given the small number on Islay) and this was  few pounds cheaper than their standard bottling you could console yourself with the thought you were getting it cheaper than the branded stuff. A bit like buying a SEAT because it’s got a VW engine in it.

Then again if the distillery is anonymous then surely the supermarket can change supplier when they like.

Overall I would say this would be good for people looking to move into the world of single malt, it’s definitely a step up from a bog standard blend for not too much more cash. This stuff is £29 but I notice that Tesco Islay Single Malt is less than £20 (how can that be? - and it has won awards too). But personally I like a bit more personality with my whisky both in the glass and on the bottle.

Bruichladdich 10 Year Old

The Laddie Ten – there has been plenty written about this whisky already. It is the long-awaited standard bottling from the resurrected Bruichladdich distillery on Islay. Obviously lots of people were keen to taste and review this when it first appeared but I’m going to add my thoughts anyway, mainly because I’ve just polished off a wee 20cl bottle that I picked up recently.
 
This is really good stuff. I tried it once at the Bruichladdich distillery and kind of dismissed it. At the time, I was on Islay to drink peaty whisky so didn't pay this much mind. Also, I was giddy at the prospect of trying the Octomore 4.2.

But more recently I’ve had the opportunity to try the Laddie Ten in isolation. And taken on its own, away from the smoke monsters from the rest of Islay you can appreciate how good this is. It’s creamy - that’s the main thing that I’ve got from it. It reminded me strongly of Ice-Cream soda – vanilla flavour, dairy richness with a bit of lemonade sweetness. But it’s not sickly sweet - it's just like a lightly creamed and sweetened water (you can have that slogan for free Bruichladdich). I'd even go as far as to say delicately flavoured, it's easy to see how this might get a little lost up against a Laphraoig or an Ardbeg. But this is easy-drinking and very moreish. And creamy - did I mention that?

In terms of smell (sorry, nose)  – I got butter mixed with a bit of burnt sugar. Strangely, a bit of balsa wood and woodglue. It looks nice too, pale with a nice oiliness to it.

The bottle and packaging are nicely stylish – very clean and bold. As I’ve said before, thankfully Bruichladdich manage to back-up their eye-catching packaging with excellent whisky. 

It’s not the cheapest – at least £30 for a bottle, although that said it is bottled at a slightly higher than average 46%.  

There are many whiskies I’ve tasted and enjoyed thoroughly but usually after finishing a bottle I'm keen to try something else. The Laddie Ten has joined the small list of ‘I’d buy another bottle’ which to be honest is about as strong an endorsement as I can give.

Arran 12 year old - Cask strength

I don’t know if there is such a thing as a bad single malt whisky. There is plenty of stuff that’s hugely overpriced or blandly uninspiring. But so far almost everything I’ve tasted has something to recommend it. I suppose it helps if you like peaty whisky- the only thing I’ve seen that really divides whisky enthusiasts.

One day maybe I’ll come across something that makes turn up my nose, but until then it feels like everything is on the spectrum between ‘Like’ and ‘Love’.

And so to the Arran 12yo Cask Strength.

 

I like it.

 

Review over…  

To elaborate a touch - I like it because it reminds me of Christmas Cake. Sticking my nose in the glass I picked up rum and dried fruit with a bit of spice. A very comforting and evocative smell for mid-winter. It’s sweet to the taste and I got a little bit of orange liquer when I took a sip. It looks rich and warming too.

 

It feels like an wintery afternoon indulgence.

 But I didn’t quite fall in love with it - it’s cask strength and I found the alcohol a bit overwhelming. A bit of burn when I gave it a sniff, a bit of tingle on the tongue as I worked it around my mouth. Yes, it’s stronger but you don’t always get that burn with cask strength bottlings and I found this needed more than a drop of water to calm it down.

Once you get past that it’s quite aggressively flavoured - very full on. The same kind of burst of flavour you get with full-bodied Aussie wine. It’s great if you’re in the mood. It is something a bit different and I’d rather be trying something like this - packed with flavour - than some of the more bland offerings out there.  But in the same way you don’t want to eat Christmas Cake every day, this isn’t a bottle I’d reach for too often.

What else? The price is around £40-odd which isn’t bad for a special edition, especially when it’s at ‘diluting juice’ strength. The Arran distillery is relatively new and it is an independent so there that in its favour. Always good to see an independent succeeding.

 In conclusion: a whisky for Christmas, but maybe not for life.

Glenfiddich 15 Year Old

As it’s the New Year, a time for good intentions and short-lived resolutions, I’ve decided to blow off the electronic cobwebs of this blog and start posting a few more thoughts about whisky. And I’m going to start with a wee bottle of Glenfiddich 15yo that I found in cupboard from last Christmas.

Two things that I wrote down - and then underlined - when drinking this were Smooth and Chocolate. This is a really lovely whisky to drink. Easy-going, sweet - I was getting a bit of honey on the finish. It’s richly flavoured, hence the chocolate, but not overwhelming and not at all thin and weedy.

It smells great and looks great too. A lovely sweet smell on the nose, a little bit of brandy, very little alcohol burn and a nice warm caramel colour to it.

All in all there’s very little to fault it. Even the price is very reasonable – about £30-35 for a 15yo when you could pay the same for a 10/12 from other distilleries.

But I just couldn’t fall in love with this whisky. It just seemed a little lacking in something and the closest I can come to is ‘character’. It feels a little bit like some of the more interesting components might have been sacrificed for the sake of tidiness in the end product. The closest analogy I could think of was when you hear a record that has been over-produced. Everything is there that should be there, every note is pitch perfect with each instrument in its right place but overall it feels it’s lacking a little – dare I say – heart.

Maybe it’s just the whisky snob in me coming out – Glenfiddich is as a ‘mainstream’ a brand that exists in the single malt world and therefore aficionados/whisky bores would feel compelled to look down on it. But then again maybe their mainstream appeal comes from making something that, whilst very good, is designed to be palatable to a wide range of people.

All I can say is that whilst I thoroughly enjoyed this whisky it felt a little too eager to please. It’s in no way a bad drop and would be an excellent drink to convert a whisky sceptic. I just can’t see myself buying a bottle where there are some many others out there to try.

Happy New Year everyone (anyone?)- and hope to post a few more reviews in the near future...

Coal Ila 12 Year Old

It’s been a while since I’ve written a review so I thought I’d ease my way back in with a  familiar favourite.. Coal Ila 12 Year Old.

I don’t think I’ve ever had a Coal Ila that I didn’t enjoy and I’ve just enjoyed a bottle of the 12yo. Not all at once I should add. So, what are my last impressions as I drain the bottle? I think Coal Ila is possibly the only whisky I’ve come across that I’d describe as refreshing. No in a lightweight/speyside kind of way. It’s still distinctly Islay, the smokey, medicinal character is still there. But it’s sweeter than many others from Islay and has a distinct freshness to it. It’s almost like a mouthwash in its invigorating mouthfeel. It’s smooth too (I found it doesn’t really need water) with very little burn and extremely moreish.

The freshness comes right from the start, sticking my nose in the glass, the smell rushes up like a bracing gust of wind. I’ve heard the smell described as a TCP, usually in a degroatory way from non-whisky drinkers. I can understand that although it’s less acrid than that. It’s a ‘clean’ smell that hits you. Once that dies away I picked up hints of vanilla fudge. A tiny hint of smoke. But a dry smoke, not thick with damp peatiness.
The pale straw colour of the whisky belies its characterful nature, but it clings nicely to the sides of the glass.

I’ve always found it to be very consistent. Sometimes a whisky (even from the same bottle), doesn’t quite taste as good (or the same) as the last time I tried it, which is much more down to me than the whisky. But Coal Ila always seems to retain the same characteristics I remember.

It’s not the cheapest 12yo out there, hovering around £35, which puts it a fiver or so above a lot of other 10-12yo distillery standards. But it’s worth the extra. This is one of my go-to whiskies, either to share or if I see it in the pub.

As for Coal Ila itself. Well it’s on Islay and it looks fantastic (as all Islay distilleries do). But it’s owned by Diageo (big business - boo!) and the whisky itself is probably matured off Islay itself (as its stablemate Lagavulin is). It doesn’t do much to endear itself in terms of promotion, although some might argue that they don’t hide behind marketing and mission statements. But what can I say, the whisky is amazing. It might not be the most romantic and as much as we all love independent distilleries this really is one of the best.

Bright Young Things

So I was just talking about whisky possibly being “too old”. But what about youth in whisky? As I said in my last post, the impression you get when starting out in the world of whisky is that single malt has to be at least 10 years old to be any good. 10 or 12 seems to the minimum age of most distillery entry level bottlings.

Obviously whisky can be younger (although it needs to be at least 3) but most stuff released before it turns 10 goes straight into making up the numbers in blends. But is there any good single malt whisky under 10?

Yes, of course there is. I just didn’t know this until recently. The realisation came about during two distillery visits on Islay. The first was genuinely a shock. You may have heard of Octomore whisky – it is produced by Bruichladdich and is the world most heavily peated whisky. It is £100 a bottle.

Also it is only 5 years old.

It seemed amazing that they would try and charge £100 when you could get a 20 year old for that kind of money. Thankfully I was lucky enough to try Octomore 4.2 at Bruichladdich and it’s one of the most amazing whiskies I’ve ever tasted – it was fresh and smooth and surprisingly light given the extreme phenol levels. I didn’t take any proper notes and this isn’t a review but one of the things that surprised me the most, considering the age, was how smooth it tasted. £100 is a lot of money but I don’t think I’ve ever been so close to shelling out that much for a bottle.

So an exceptional young whisky – but maybe that was it, it was an exception. An experiment with high phenol levels that’s produced a freakishly good 5 year old.

The next encounter with young whisky also took me by surprise but mainly because I didn’t realise it was under 10 until after the tasting. I stopped by the Laphroaig distillery, firstly trying the 10 Year Old (a familiar favourite) and then tried the Quarter Cask for the first time. I was won over by this – it really is very flavourful and I’ll post a review in due course. However I had assumed at the time it was a variation on the 10yo but didn’t realise until much later on that whisky is only 6 or 7 years old. The whisky spends 5 years or so matured in full sized casks and then is finished in ¼ cask. The greater surface-area to whisky ratio of the smaller cask means its finished differently and more speedily. Not to the detriment of the whisky I hasten to add - quite the opposite.

So two young whiskies discovered within a couple of days. One of them an experiment but the other a widely available standard bottle.

And the more I’ve looked into this they seem to be everywhere (often referred to as No Age Statement). Sometimes it seems they are bottled at a younger age to get a preview of what they will be like later on. The consensus on tasting notes is that younger whiskies are shorter on the finish but a bit fresher in the taste.

So that’s it. My interest is piqued and it is another facet of whisky to explore. The next whisky in the crosshair is an expression of the highly regarded Kilchoman - the oldest of which is only 5. Watch this space.

Old Pulteney 12 Year Old

One night, years ago, I visited a friend for dinner. I can’t remember what we had – most likely a bastardised bolognese (a cheap dish we could all cook). But having a bit of Dolmio and pasta wasn’t intended to be the highlight, because my friend was especially keen to move onto the dessert. This was because he wanted to try out a trick he’d read in a Jamie Oliver cookbook…

The trick was to have vanilla ice-cream, drizzle it with olive oil and sprinkle a bit of salt on it. So we tried it out and it tasted… quite nice. The three flavours remained very separate, rather than combining to create a new one. And yet they worked together in a very unexpected way. The salt tempering the super sweet ice-cream but with the oil acting as a kind of balance between the two, making the combination of sugar and salt less jarring.

So by this point you probably won’t be surprised to hear that this somehow relates to Old Puleteney 12 Year Old. Well funnily enough it was drinking a glass of OP that reminded me of that taste. Salty, oily and with a hint of vanilla.

It doesn’t sound like it should work but it does, and it is such an unusual tasting single malt. It calls itself the Maritime Malt presumably because of that saltiness. It comes through in the smell too – a pervading saltiness but there’s something else there. After much thought the best I could come up with was driftwood. It has a combination of wood, beach and sea on the nose, quite bracing to take a good niff at. You’d probably hear the sea if you put you ear to the glass.

So that’s my impression of it. I suppose the only negative thing to say is that despite the unusual flavour it’s not the most complex whisky in the world, but it is smooth enough – possibly a touch too smooth. I’d be interested to try a cask strength OP to see what it’s like before they water it down…

What else to mention? The colour is lovely and golden. The bottle is very nice with a gorgeous bulbous neck and stocky lower half – it makes a great glugging sound the first time you pour it out.

The price – well this really is the thing. I bought a bottle on offer in ASDA for £21 (yes ASDA, sorry Royal Mile Whiskies) which is an absolute steal, a really very good drop for that kind of money. Now it seems to be around £27 mark which is still excellent value.

I can’t make a recommendation about this whisky in terms of "if you like x,y or z then try this". But I can wholeheartly recommend trying it out. It’s very well priced (even when not on offer) and adds something a bit different to a whisky collection.

A note on “authenticity”

A few thoughts on whether “authenticity” matters.

Lagavulin produces some very, very good whisky. It has a very charming old distillery, stone-built with white-wash walls, right on the rocky southern coast of Islay. The décor in the tasting room is very erm… tasteful. Big armchairs, wood panelling and tartan print wallpaper, it feels like you’re sitting in a Laird’s hunting lodge.

So when I was sitting in that  tasting room a couple of months ago everything was set for an enjoyable tour. And like every distillery tour it was enjoyable, but two things left me feeling slightly disappointed and maybe even a touch disillusioned. The first was hearing that the Lagavulin distillery runs 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and only requires one person to run its operations. And the second was that, once distilled, the spirit is put in a tanker, taken to the mainland and put into barrels to mature.

This wasn’t my first trip to a distillery – I already knew that most of distilleries are owned by large parent companies (Lagavulin is owned by Diageo). And that most distilleries don’t do their own malting, and that in fact many of them use barley that isn’t even grown in the UK.  That’s fine and understood.

But being hit with those two further things just seemed to make it a little bit too far removed from the romantic image of whisky production I had in my head.

The image of one man watching a computer screen and monitoring computerized systems from an office and then pumping 20,000 litres into a tanker to be shipped to a warehouse on an industrial estate outside Edinburgh just doesn’t seem quite as romantic as one might hope.

Now obviously I’m clearly a bit of a sucker for being buying into by the hoary old sales guff that the whisky industry peddles about the tradition and mystery of their product. But it is a seductive image nonetheless, and that’s the problem – if you’re being sold the image of whisky being the “authentic” taste of Islay or Speyside or wherever it is disconcerting to have that image rattled.

I don’t mean to pick on Lagavulin either – I know most distilleries operate in similar manner. And at least they were honest on the tour - would I have preferred it if they had tried to pretend that everything was produced on-site by kilt-wearing, barrel-chested yeomen using wood tools and going on about the “art of making whisky”? That would have been just as inauthentic. Maybe it is just my realisation that whisky making isn’t an art after all, maybe it’s a science – or at least merely an industrial process. Just because the end product is magical and evocative doesn’t mean what goes into it is too…

So does it really matter? I suppose not. Certainly it’s not going to matter to Diageo what I have to say. Making Whisky is an industrial operation and it just so happens that a small proportion of whisky-drinker prefer drinking single malt to blends. And a smaller proportion again of those are actually have enough of an interest to visit a distillery. They are hardly going to change their production so single malt enthusiast can feel slightly more contented.

And even despite my minor disappointment I can honestly say that when it came to the tasting I enjoyed Lagavulin as much as ever. Coal Ila (like Lagavulin owned by Diageo) has always been one of my all time favourites and remains so.

The closest thing I think of as an analogy for this experience is that it’s like reading an interview with your favourite musician and hearing them say something you don’t like. It might lessen your opinion of them slightly and even annoy you. But they won’t change anything that they do and despite what you think, the next time you hear your favourite song, your hairs will still stand on end. There is no fooling your ears. Or your tastebuds.

Bruichladdich Infinity 3

To Infinity and Beyond…

With the tiresome pun out of the way the question is, is this whisky any good?

And the answer is a resounding yes. This is an excellent whisky. Why is it excellent?

Firstly the finish is wonderful. Long after going down there is a satisfying and warm clinginess. The closest comparison that comes to mind is the mouthfeel after having had a glass of full-bodied red-wine. It has the same rich, red fruit taste mixed in with a hint of wood and peat. This is no doubt due to part of the whisky mix having been finished in Tempranillo casks.

It’s kind of whisky you need to pause and close your eyes after drinking so you can focus of the flavour and the feeling.

The wine-y-ness doesn’t come through immediately though, as the whisky passed first my lips, the initial thought was that it was akin to a light fruit cordial drink, or watered down lemonade.  Quite unusual that it seems quite light to start with, then settles in to a complex and rich after taste. It is 50%abv but it is delightfully smooth with no alcohol burn, maybe a little sting on the tip of the tongue. I put a tiny drop of water in but it’s just as good without.

The smell is what really sets this whisky up as something exceptional. Very complex and whenever I pour myself a dram I can't help but keep drawing in deep sniffs of it - it really is rather addictive. There is lots going on here but it’s all complimentary. There wine influence is there again, this time reminiscent of standing in a cool cellar amongst wine barrels. The woodyness is much stronger and there is a touch of smoke too. It’s a hugely comforting and evocative aroma. I also picked up a bit of burnt sugar, possibly due to the influence of some sherry finished whisky.

Given what I’ve just said you expect it to look pretty and it does. A pleasingly deep, dark gold colour, it looks like it will promise a depth of flavour.

I can’t let this review pass without mentioning the bottle either. As you can see from the picture it is black and completely opaque. Personally I think it looks very sleek and stylish. Producing such a stand-out bottle could have gone one of two ways, if the whisky hadn’t been up to scratch this bottle would have definitely made the whole package worse –  it would give it an air of fur coat and no knickers, style over substance. As it is, given the excellent whisky contained within the bottle it actually makes revisiting the whisky rather satisfying. Although one minor criticism is that it’s almost impossible to tell how much is left.

I would add in a word about Bruichladdich here but I think they might be worth a separate blog post. A recent trip to their distillery was in turn enlightening and thought-provoking and, like them or not, they’re one of the most interesting distilleries out there.

Finally a word on cost. I picked up my bottle at the Bruichladdich distillery for £42 (using a £5 off tour voucher). A quick look on-line shows it’s generally available for around that amount. For me that puts it in the price bracket of ‘treating myself’ or ‘generous gift’ from someone close, rather than regular go-to bottle.

But what a treat it is.