Bowmore 18 Year Old
I’ll not waste much time on this one, since it was a poor dram. Bowmore is meant to be one of the more respected distilleries – an established Islay gem. However, judging by this, I fail to see how. The Bowmore 18 Year Old lacks the class and sophistication of anything Bruichladdich can produce, even on a bad day; it lacks the punch and boldness of any Laphroaig, and the complexity of an Ardbeg.
Let’s get it over with.
Colour: amber, apple juice. On the nose: Classic Islay stuff. Briny, gentle wafts of peat. Sea breeze. Sweetness and vanilla in the distance. Nothing is overpowering – nicely balanced so far, but then it all goes wrong. In the mouth: lifeless. A thick peat monster, but what’s beyond typical Islay fire? The promise of strong malt flavours and then… metallic, mind-numblingly dull. Nothing more. Nothing on the finish. This was immensely disappointing. It’s a bad dram, the worst one I have had in a long while, and certainly not worth the price tag of over £60.
Bruichladdich Renaissance Feis Ile 2011
I go on about Bruichladdich often enough to bore regular readers of the blog. Suffice to say: I reckon they’re the best distillery in Scotland bar none. They’d achieve huge respect for the whisky alone – generally speaking, wonderful artisan drams – but it’s their attitude to the industry (which is more of a cartel, largely dominated by conglomerates) as well as the environment and the land, which marks them out as a truly wonderful business. This stuff matters.
But what about the Bruichladdich Renaissance Feis Ile 2011? It was distilled in 1998, aged in bourbon casks and bottled at 46% for the 2011 Feis Ile, the Islay Festival (one day, I will make it to Islay). There were only 2,500 of these made, so there aren’t many around. Hopefully it would stand up to the rest of their range.
Colour: rather pale straw-coloured liquid, diluted apple juice. On the nose: very familiar Laddie aroma on this. Rich, butterscotch, spicy and oaky. A whiff of citrus in the distance.
In the mouth: they’ve done it again. There’s a fullness, oiliness and such a lovely weight in the mouth. It’s the first thing you notice – it just sits there on your tongue. Is it the shape of the stills that does this, as it’s consistently brilliant. Then: the warming maltiness comes through. Chunks of ginger in syrup, almost bourbon-like in that sweetness, but with far more depth. A bold okay-rich finish that goes on for ages. It’s certainly up there with the finest of their range, for what it’s worth.
A bottle of the Renaissance Feis Ile 2011 will set you back almost £100, but you can get samples from Master of Malt for a fraction of that.
Or you can just buy just about anything else from Bruichladdich and be happy.
Bushmills Aged 16 Years
I’m not a big drinker of Irish whiskey. There’s no particular reason for this, but I guess I tend to consciously aim for drams from Scotland or Japan; and personally I rate these the top two countries in the world for whiskies. (Note that Irish and American whiskey ends with ‘ey’ – the rest of the world spells it ‘whisky’.)
So, onto the Bushmills Aged 16 Years single malt Irish whiskey, from Old Bushmills, a distillery in County Antrim, Northern Ireland, and which has been churning out liquid since 1608, making it the oldest licenced distillery in the world.
The 16 year old has been been matured in three different wood casks: bourbon, Oloroso sherry and then finally in port. As with many Irish single malt whiskies, it’s been triple-distilled (most Scottish whiskies are double-distilled, with the exception of the Bruichladdich X4+3, which has been distilled four times).
Colour: on the darker side of whiskies, almost like a dark rum, with a rose-coloured tint to it – probably coming from the port casks. On the nose: there are overwhelming sherry notes at first, but it falls back to lovely dried fruits, sultanas, grape juice, all with a lovely, buttery edge.
In the mouth: it’s incredibly smooth and with a lovely weight. Creamy. Those expected dried fruits come through in the taste, perhaps predictably so. It fades leaving an interesting malty tang, which goes just as quickly as it came. Sherry, of course, and a warming, tannin-like edge. A bitter chocolate kick just to finish off.
It’s a lovely dram, not as sophisticated as it could have been, but certainly one of those nice social drams. If you can find a bottle, it’s priced somewhere between £40 and £60.
Balblair 1978
Balblair is well-known for its old whiskies – it tends to sell only a few vintages, dating back quite some time (the oldest on their website being the 1965 vintage – a snip at £1260…). So I ordered a sample of the 1978 vintage through Master of Malt to see what the fuss was about.
Colour: remarkably light and straw-like for a whisky that’s been sitting in wood all that time. On the nose: it pretty much comes in two waves. There’s the surface vanilla and honey notes, then a load more fruits, pineapple juice. A creamy, buttery, blood orange.
In the mouth: superb balance, a mixture of deep sweetness and possibly peaty smoke and spice. Oaky and with a lot of bourbon affecting the character. Quite understated… and potentially quite dull, for what it is. All these flavours – they’re nothing outstanding. Don’t get me wrong, it’s good, it’s mature, it’s got a lot of class about it. Ticks all the right boxes – Bells, it ain’t.
But at over £130 a bottle?
I’ve had significantly younger whiskies that have been more interesting and characterful. You could easily spend that money on some much more sophisticated whiskies. Stick to getting a sample, like I did.
Nikka Perfect Serve 2011 Finals
Japanese whisky meets trendy bar staff? Suddenly whisky has never seemed so sexy. Of course, this video is about whisky cocktails, which seems to be one of the ‘cool’ trends with Japanese blended whisky at the moment.
It’s nice to see Nikka From The Barrel on display, one of the best value-for-money blends you’ll ever buy, but I must admit, part of me winces when I see so much whisky being mixed with ice and other spirits. I can imagine all those careful Master Distillers suddenly having fits of rage. (There’s even a recipe for Japanese whisky bread.)
Clynelish 14 Year Old
Clynelish is an interesting distillery. Located way in the middle of nowhere, as all good distilleries tend to be, it has had something of a complicated history. Much of its production of the years has been wasted on that Johnnie Walker bling nonsense, which you see advertised in golfing magazines and all over airports – where it’s important to be seen with whisky rather than drinking the right one. Anyway, before I start ranting – onto the Clynelish 14 Year Old.
Colour: pure gold, summer sun through to autumnal tones. On the nose: a gentle, classic aroma with a bit of everything thrown in: distant dried fruits, blood orange, sea spray, malts, woody vanilla notes. Very well balanced.
In the mouth: and instantly one finds a beautiful silky texture. Clean and clear. Though this doesn’t strike me as anything unique, that’s not the point; here is a well balanced whisky that incorporates a wide set of flavours, from that same coastal tang which is found in the nose, to the deep and subtle, sherry and oak contrast. Touch of smoke? If it is there, it’s very light. A long, warming finish. Nothing too spicy, nothing too sweet, nothing too malty, yet all in all it seems to work really well. It’s all about that wonderful texture in the mouth. Really nice dram. You could pick a bottle up for around £30, which strikes me as good value for money.
Port Charlotte An Turas Mor
A couple of miles down the road from Bruichladdich lies the Port Charlotte distillery. As the ‘Lochindaal’ distillery, it ran from 1829 until 1929 before closing down. However, the folks at Bruichladdich acquired it in 2003 and started distilling peated whisky there (Bruichladdich, sans the Octomore, produces largely unpeated and rather exquisite stuff). They’ve been drip-feeding fans with various iterations of the Port Charlotte single malt whisky, PC5 through to PC9, and now the multi-vintage An Turas Mor – Gaelic for ‘The Great Journey’.
Colour: sunlight over a field of barley. On the nose: that gentle peat fire, earthy and coastal and rather creamy, perhaps vaguely citrusy. Nutmeg. Very aromatic.
In the mouth: again, such balance, such a gentle nature. The fires are still there, but there’s some interplay between that and the bold notes of malted barely. Spices. It’s not over the top in complexity, this is a young-ish whisky which is a lot of zippy fun, with sweetness and pepper, a hint of cinnamon, and it still possesses that miraculous and unique Bruichladdich velvety mouth sensation. That’s very pleasant indeed. I don’t know what the secret is – the stills perhaps? Swirl it around the glass and you can see the beads of whisky sliding slowly down – indicating the oils within, the quality of this dram.
Port Charlotte An Turas Mor is a gentle giant. If this is any indication of what the final releases will be like, then oh my…
Aberlour a’Bunadh Batch 37
Over Christmas I got into a row with some dude who was convinced single malt whisky came only at 40% alcohol-by-volume. Which is, of course, bollocks. I was willing to bet a lot of money that he was wrong, but he was so adamant he was right, he refused to even bet on it. Such conviction!
For the uninitiated, single malt whisky legally has to be bottled at a minimum of 40%. And indeed a lot of it comes bottled at that strength, but it’s usually been watered down for cheapness and mass-market consistency. (Incidentally, I find it strange that people add water to dilute whisky to below 40%, because then it is technically no longer whisky, surely?) Whisky, in the barrel, comes much stronger – way above 40%. And that level, beautiful things start to happen. At cask-strength, around 60–65%, where single malt whisky can be found at a more undiluted purity, and you find some incredible, eye-watering taste sensations.
So onwards to the Aberlour a’Bunadh Batch 37 (bottled at 59.60%), a cask-strength Aberlour (‘Abba-LOW-errr’) release that really is cracking value for money.
Colour: copper-bottomed saucepan to heather honey. On the nose: you can smell it a mile off. (Warning: at cask strength, don’t stick your nose too far in…) Rich treacly, spicy, oak, caramel – lovely stuff.
In the mouth: sweet Jesus. Dried fruits drenched in syrup. Back in for seconds and you find some chewy malts behind that, but there’s still a whole host of sherry effects there (the Oloroso butts doing their thing). It’s like the Glenfarclas 15 Year Old, but squared, with an even better texture: a silky, weighty dram. Let the eye-watering strength pass and let the lingering peppered finish wrap around your face – one for a chilly spring evening, this. A belter.
You can pick a bottle up for around £35, which is great, because you’d expect to pay twice that for such flavours.
Nikka Miyagikyo 15 Year Old
It’s been a while since I’ve reviewed any drams, but I’ve recently ordered some samples from Master of Malt, so expect more reviews soon.
First up is the Nikka Miyagikyo 15 Year Old, another intriguing single malt from Japan. Colour: heather honey, mead. On the nose: caramel, chocolate, wood, touch of brine, very complex, rather promising. The kind of pleasant, sharp metallic tang one finds in a lot of single grain whisky – not a bad thing to my nose. (Does this come from the Coffey stills, I wonder?)
In the mouth: Not as bold a palette as the nose promised, but there’s still quite a bit going on. At first a chewy barley flavour, but then, leave it in your mouth long enough: the sweetness comes through, touch of sherry and pepper that seems too distant at first. Fruit – not apple, but something like it. Then a note of cinnamon and finally the caramel. Quite a light and finely balanced dram.
Personally, if this possessed more fullness in the mouth, it would have been an absolute cracker. Still, it’s yet another sign that the Japanese produce whisky every bit as good as the Scots (my current favourite whisky is also from Japan). A bottle of this would set you back £80 or so, but you can get samples as I did.
Bruichladdich Distillery
This is definitely one for the whisky geeks out there. I’ve gone on about this distillery so many times, and recently came across this clip, so thought I’d share it. It’s a nice introduction to the distillery and its history, and sums up what they’re about and why they’re so different.
Bruichladdich First Growth Cuvée E: Sauternes (Chateau D’Yquem) 16 Year Old
Take 16 year old Bruichladdich single malt whisky and finish it off in casks which come from some of the finest vineyards in the world – that’s the concept behind the Bruichladdich First Growth series. One of the sexiest whiskies I’ve ever tasted is in this range – the casks having come from Chateau Margaux – but this time they come from Chateau D’Yquem, Sauternes – in the Bordeaux vineyards. It’s widely regarded as one of the best wine-growing regions in the world. But what could be better than pouring out that eye-wateringly expensive wine so the barrels can be used instead to store the finer liquid, single malt whisky?
Onto the Chateau D’Yquem finish Bruichladdich, then. Colour: somewhere between heather honey and gold. On the nose: orange marmalade, whiff of barley, coastal tang, buttery creaminess. Remains nice and mellow without heading too far with the fruit aromas. There’s a small hint of wine there, too.
In the mouth: oh good lord this is lovely. A warming, silky, malted, sweet and delicious flavour, with the kind of mouth-feel that simply outclasses so many other whiskies. Lighter fruits are revealed – apples, something a little exotic perhaps. On the finish, a hint of peppery peat and a chewy lingering sweetness. Very subtle. Again, another sexy Bruichladdich here.
I’m not sure if it’s as good as probably my favourite whisky, the Bruichladdich Chateau Margaux, but it’s certainly up there. It’s safe to say that this First Growth series from Bruichladdich is a wonderful find indeed. If you ever see a bottle for sale – buy it immediately as a gift for yourself.