Glen Ord 12 - Damned by Diageo

Look carefully upon that bottle, and that precious bit of whisky it still holds, as you may never see it's like again.

At least not in the US, Europe, Africa, South America, Antarctica and most of Asia.

I rarely swear at the computer screen while writing these reviews. After all, I'm drinking good whisky - that generally translates into a good mood.

But, as I was reacquainting myself with this old bottle of Glen Ord I unearthed from the back of liquor closet, sighing happily with each sip, I found myself damning those black hearted bastards at Diageo with vehemence I would normally reserve for some worthless, slack-jawed, jackass who just cut me off in traffic.

Those f$%#!!'s took my whisky away.

Yes, those blackguards at Diageo, the monstrous conglomerate that owns Glen Ord and several other distilleries, including Lagavulin and so help me God they'd better not pull this crap with that single malt, have ended the distillery editions of  Glen Ord. The whisky barely continues as a single malt as "The Singleton of Glen Ord" in 12- and 15-year-old expressions, but only at the distillery itself, and in Japan.

The other approximately 6.96 billion of us are S-O-L (shit outta luck).

If you look really hard (say, at the Whisky Exchange site in the UK) you might find a retailer with a small hoard some old stock of the Glen Ord 12-year-old.  That bottle will cost about $100 before shipping, which is a damn sight more than my old bottle cost me back in the day.

The rest of the distillery's production presumably goes into blended Scotches, for example, the various Johnny Walker blends (also owned by Diageo). I hope not too much of it ends up in Johnny Walker Red, as that would be a mighty sin.

And what makes this so sad is that this is a really excellent whisky. Glen Ord is a sherry cask aged Highland whisky. While it is similar to the Macallan and Glen Farclas whiskies I have previously reviewed, it does have a different character.

The Glen Ord 12 (RIP) was bottled at 80 proof (40% abv), which is pretty much at sipping strength. I prefer it with a small (very small) splash of water, as that opens up the aromas and flavor for me.

The aroma is sweet sherry with heather notes with a slight subtle hint of smoke. The spirit has a lovely amber color with a tinge of red.

"I shine, not burn" is the motto on the bottle, and that's exactly how it drinks. It start out with smooth sweetness of sherry, heather and honey. About midway through, some fire, a little spice and a suggestion of smoke that rapidly disappears enter the flavor mix. It all fades pleasantly away, leaving your fast buds demanding more.

Is it worth $100 and international shipping costs? That's a tough call. I easily like it as much as the Macallan 12, probably a little bit more. But $40 plus more? Damn Diageo for making me have to think about that.

If you are traveling, and do get a chance to taste the Glen Ord 12, then I recommend you leap at it. Because if you're one of the S-O-L 6.96 billion, it might be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

(PS - let me know if you're going to be visiting the Glen Ord distillery. I might need a care package.)

Glenfarclas 12 - A Slightly Spicier Sherried Scotch

Glenfarclas 12 is a Speyside single malt aged in ex-sherry casks for 12 years.

Wait, that sounds familiar...isn't that Macallan? Or Aberlour?( Oh, A'Bunadh!)

Well, yes. It's the same general recipe: whisky made with water from the River Spey drainage, using low peat malted barely, and aged fully or partly in ex-sherry casks. However, these whiskies are not interchangeable, much the same way that Islay neighbors Lagavulin, Laphroig, and Ardbeg are not interchangeable. Despite the similarities, they all have distinctly different flavors.

Glenfarclas is usually compared most directly to Macallan. Because more folks in the US have encountered Macallan than Aberlour. I'll follow along with that convention.

Glenfarclas is bottled at 86 proof (43% abv), just a little more than the equivalent Macallan. There are folks who swear that they can tell the difference between and 80 proof and 86 proof whisky, but I am not one of them. I like both with just a small splash of water.

Glenfarclas 12 has a sweet sherry aroma that emanates pleasantly from the glass and that can be enjoyed from it sits upon the table. Raising the class to the nose to investigate further brings a bit of an unwelcome surprise - a sharp undertone that reminds me of rubbing alcohol.

Sipped, sherry is the first flavor, some fruit notes, then a hint of honey, and then a bit of spiciness,. The finish is on the short side - is that a little ginger I taste?

Glenfarclas 12 feels lighter in the mouth than the Macallan 12, and the Macallan has a slightly richer, sweeter, smoother flavor.

Which is better? That's a question of personal taste. I prefer the Macallan 12 to the Glenfarclas 12, but I can easily see others taking the opposite tack, finding more enjoyment in the lighter character and spicier flavor of the Glenfarclas.

As for which is the better value, at this age, only a couple of dollars separate the two, with the Glenfarclas being the cheaper. That differential is too small to  dissuade from buying the Macallan 12 instead, especially since both cost more than $50 a bottle.

Interestingly, the price differential expands more than exponentially as the two get older. The Glenfarclas 17 is  around $90, while the year older Macallan goes for about $150. A bottle of 25-year-old Macallan will set you back $850, while the Glenfarclas 25-year-old weighs in at a relatively modest $145 or so. So, if you're looking to add a quarter-century-old whisky to your bar for gravitas, but are on a tight budget, the Glenfarclas is the way to go.

Bowmore Darkest 15 - Ruby Red Blend of Peat and Sherry

 

The standard expression from Bowmore is 12-year-old whisky aged in ex bourbon barrels. To get Darkest, they dump that spirit into ex-Oloroso sherry casks and let it age for another 3 years. The result is a darker, redder spirit that represents a departure from the standard Bowmore palate.

Bowmore is an Islay scotch, which means peat. However, while Bowmore is definitely peatier than the mainline scotches, it's nowhere near as peaty as the monsters of the southeastern Islay coast: Ardbeg, Lagavulin and Laphroig.

And while some folks may blanch at the idea of combining peat and sherry, I've previously reviewed Ardbeg Uigeadail which blends those exact flavors brilliantly. So I was very interested to see how Bowmore take on the idea came out.

Bowmore bills its Bowmore Darkest 15 as "one of the most beautifully balanced Bowmores." I can't disagree with that assessment.

Darkest is bottled at 86 proof (43% abv), which means it's been watered down to sipping strength. Still, I drink mine with just a little bit of water, as I feel it improves the aroma and flavor palette.

As mentioned, Darkest is a lovely dark reddish amber in glass. With the addition of that bit of H2O, the aroma is rich, sweet sherry and caramel with some hints of strawberry.

In the mouth, I'd characterize it as heavy. The flavor is smooth, sweet, sherry and fruit notes blending seamlessly with the peat and honey of the standard Bowmore before fading to a gently peppery sparkle.

It's interesting what those extra 3 years in the ex-sherry casks do to the spirit. The oiliness that is one of the defining characteristics of the 12-year-old Bowmore for me is gone, a welcome change. The peat flavors, while still present, are much subdued, and on this spring night in North Carolina, undetected by my nose.

This a refined, rich dram, soft and easy to sip.

I personally prefer it to the 12-year-old Bowmore, although the $30 price premium for Darkest makes me wince a little. It makes an excellent gift for a whisky enthusiast.

Naturally, the question that presents itself is: how does Darkest stack up against Ardbeg Uigeadail? They share a similar idea: peaty whisky partially aged in ex-sherry casks, and, at least in the US, are generally priced within a couple of dollars of each other.

Honestly, they are different. Which one you prefer is going to be a matter of personal taste.

Darkest has a heavier mouthfeel, darker color, and it just sort of envelopes and caresses your tongue with rich flavors.

Uigeadail is a little lighter in mouth feel, lighter in color, has more peat and smoke, and dances across your tongue, thrilling it with a wonderful riot of flavors.

I prefer Uigeadail by a little bit, but I won't argue with folks who prefer Darkest. It's a lovely whisky, and well worth a try.

Aberlour a'bunadh - Richly Flavored Throwback

 

Aberlour a'bunadh is a cask strength  - my bottle weighs in at 119.8 proof (59.9% abv) - single malt scotch from the Speyside region of Scotland. It's aged in used Spanish Oloroso sherry casks, which adds distinctive flavor and color to the whisky. Aberlour boasts that a'bunadh is produced and bottled without modern falderal such a chill-filtering for clarity or watering down to lower, sipping proof (usually between 80-86 proof).

It's released in small batches, in a bottle style that was distinctive when it was introduced, but that has been successful enough that Aberlour has switched its two other standard distillery expressions, the 12- and the 16-year-old to the same style bottle.

The bottle carries no age statement.

It's irrelevant. The whisky is awesome.

It has a lovely burgundy color, and, when cut with some water, a wonderful aroma of sherry and malt with just a hnt of allspice. With the right amount of water, it has a medium heavy mouthfeel, and rich sherry flavors blending with malt sweetness, with some spicy hints along the way, especially in the medium long finish.

One of the fun parts of drinking cask strength whisky is figuring out just how much water to add bring out the maximum flavor and gentle the alcohol burn without diluting it too much. Some folks claim they can drink cask strength whisky neat and not miss anything ... to each their own. I'm part of the greater mass of folks who generally need some water to make the cask strength stuff sing.

For me, a'bunadh hits its sweet speed when I cut it with about 25% water...put another way, 4 parts a'bunadh, 1 part water in the glass, swirl it around, and then send your tongue to heaven.

a'bunadh will set you back about $75 - $90 a bottle in the US, so it's not a cheap dram. But if you like your whisky sweet and rich with lots of sherry flavor, you should avail yourself if you can manage to fit it into your budget at all.

This, naturally, brings up a comparison to the Macallan Cask Strength that I reviewed last year. It's a tough call, but I think I give the edge, by a small margin, to the a'bunadh. I feel confident in saying that if you like one, you'll probably like the other.

On a more practical note, a'bunadh has pretty wide distribution, at least in the US, and may be easier to find than the  Macallan Cask Strength.

Highly recommended, and, incidentally, a great gift for the single malt fanciers on your birthday and holiday lists.

The Dimple Pinch - Cool Bottle, Decent Whisky

 

The triangular bottle is one of the most distinctive shapes on the liquor store shelf. Filled with 15 year-old whisky and wrapped in gold netting, it practically screams out: "I'm unique, I'm cool, I'm premium!"

So, the Dimple Pinch bottle, actually patented in the US in 1958, is a master stroke of marketing. Does the blended scotch whisky inside match up?

The short answer is: maybe. It depends on how much you pay for it.

I've never seen such price variation in a whisky before. Checking online, I found prices ranging from $22 for a 750ml triangle, to $47 for that same bottle. It's $43 on the North Carolina ABC store shelves where I live.

At the high end of the price range, you can get better for your money. If you like the Dimple (as it's known outside the US), a bottle of the Auchentoshan Classic single malt will only set you back $30 - $35, and it has a very similar flavor profile. Cragganmore and Dalwhinnie are also on the light site of single malts, and run about $45 - $50 a bottle  and offer substantially more character.

On the other hand, if you're fortunate enough to live in a place where you can obtain Dimple for $22 a bottle, then it's a right good deal and well worth the price.

Dimple is a blended scotch, in this case the product of more than 30 different malt and grain whiskies, blended together in whatever proportions are needed to achieve the signature Dimple taste. Everything in the bottle spent at least 15 years in a wooden cask.

Unlike Johnny Walker Black, Dimple is not a frankenscotch that tries cover all the things a scotch can be. It's blended to offer a much more restricted palette of flavors and true mass market appeal.

Dimple is sweet, medium bodied whisky. Bottled at 80 proof (40% abv), it sips smoothly straight out of the bottle. I don't pick up much of a nose, a little oak, a little honey, a little alcohol. Nothing that really stands out.

Flavorwise, Dimple is sweet, with honey fading to hint of oak and alcohol, and then away completely - it's a short finish. The mingling of the 30 plus component whiskies smooths off almost all the rough edges, and there are none of the peat or smoke flavors that so divide folks into love it or hate it camps. Adding water doesn't make the flavors bloom like it does with other whiskies, it just thins the honey notes a bit and cuts alcohol burn part of the finish down even some.

This makes it a perfect social whisky for the bar. You can offer it to all sorts of people, secure that you're not giving anyone something so strongly flavored that they hate it, and yet good enough to make them feel as if they had been given something premium. The distinctive bottle shape will only reinforce that impression. In a party atmosphere, it goes quickly, as I can attest.

Of course, you can get the same effect with a bottle of Auchentoshan Classic, and play the single malt snob appeal card at the same time. You just don't end up with a cool triangular bottle that your crafty and artist friends will bug you for.

(Addendum - I finished my bottle as I was writing this review. Unless I can find a place selling it for $25 or less, I have no intention of replacing it.)

Laphroaig Quarter Cask - Laphroaig Refined

 

Off the southwestern coast of Scotland lies the Isle of Islay. The signature taste of Islay whiskies is peat, with peatiness generally increasing as you move from west to east, and north to south, across the island.

Thus, at the southeastern corner of Islay, you find the three distilleries that define the outer limits of peatiness in scotch whisky: Ardbeg, Lagavulin and Laphroaig.

The standard Laphroaig expression is  a 10-year-old single malt, that, to my taste buds, is the least interesting of the standard expressions of these three distilleries. The others (Ardbeg's 10-year-old and Lagavulin's 16-year-old) offer more complex flavors to complement the peat, while the standard Laphroaig is just peat, peat and more peat.

Enter then, the Laphroaig Quarter Cask.  It comes with no age statement, but an intriguing back story.

Laphroaig takes whisky that's been aging in their standard reused American Bourbon barrels, and moves it into much, much smaller American Oak barrels of the size used 200 years ago. These barrels are about 1/4 the size of modern barrels, thus the name.

This dramatically changes the wood-to-whisky ratio -  more of the spirit in these smaller barrels interacts with the wood, altering the flavors substantially.

Quarter cask is also bottled at a slightly higher proof than the 10-year-old Laphroaig - the Quarter Cask is 48%/96 proof, the standard is 40%/80 proof - but still doesn't qualify as a cask strength whisky. It has a lovely golden color.

You can really taste the difference the change in the aging regime makes. Quarter Cask has a wonderful sweet lead in to the trademark intense peat flavor, that slowly, slowly fades gaining notes of iodine and hints of sea water.

The aroma is slightly less intensely peaty and iodiney than the standard Laphroaig,  promising something different, yet familiar.

Laphroaig recommends taking your Quarter Cask with some water, and I agree. A bit of water accentuates the sweetness and cuts the alcohol burn down, allowing your tongue access to all the available flavor.

Make no mistake - this is still Laphroaig. Peat is the main attraction, and if you don't like peat, you will not like this. Conversely, if you like peat, this will not disappoint.

I think of it like this: the Laphroaig 10 is a teenager, full of piss and vinegar, but obsessively passionate about peat and with no conception of elegance or grace. Quarter Cask is that same teenager at 30, still intensely passionate, but softened a bit by age and experience, and having learned the value of grace and refinement in getting his way.

I can take or leave the Laphroaig 10. Quarter Cask, on the other hand,  I will endeavor to keep stocked on my bar.

 

The Macallan Cask Strength

[caption id="attachment_57" align="aligncenter" width="200"] Finished the opened bottle writing the review - good thing I had a spare on hand.[/caption]

Macallan is known for its single malt scotches aged in sherry casks from Spain. Whisky always picks up flavors from the wooden casks it's aged in, and wooden casks always absorb flavors and liquid from the spirits aged in them.

Aging a whisky in a cask previously used for another spirit means that the whisky will pick up flavors, aroma and even some of the color from the bit of that other spirit that seeped into the cask staves.

In Macallan's case, their whisky mates wonderfully well with the sweet sherry left in the casks, and creates what many consider the standard for scotches aged in used sherry casks.

The Macallan Cask Strength comes with no age statement, and is the product of mixing many barrels, potentially of differing ages. However, it is not watered down or chill filtered. It weighs it at heft 58.4% abv, or 116.8 proof .

In the glass, it's a wonderful mahogany color. I highly recommend adding water to your glass to cut back the alcohol and let the other flavors and aromas come through. It's worth noting that Macallan's standard distillery expressions are bottled at 43% abv (86 proof), and many folks feel that even those whiskies need a splash of water to bring out their best flavor.

With some water, the aroma smooth and pleasant to the nose, with an inviting sweetness. On the tongue, Macallan Cask Strength has a wonderful weight: it's not overly heavy, but it feels substantial.

The flavor is a rich mix of sherry and malt sweetness blended with highland scotch fire and tempered oak spiciness. It starts rich and sweet and melts to the a pleasant fire and spice combo that lingers for a while, joined by some residual sherry notes.

Macallan Cask Strength is an excellent whisky, and makes a great addition to any whisky lover's bar (and thus, a great gift for a whisky lover).

If you already have Macallan 12-year-old single malt on your bar, I can't say that you have to add the cask strength. But, when that bottle of 12-year-old Macallan runs out, a bottle Cask Strength would make for a nice change of pace replacement, assuming the extra $30 is within your budget.

 

Old Pulteney 12 - A Lovely Dram

This week's dram is Old Pulteney 12. This is a single malt scotch aged  for 12 years in ex-bourbon barrels.

This is the youngest expression from the Pulteney Distillery in Wick, Scotland. They also offer 17-, 21-, 30-, and 40-year-old whiskies.

The Pulteney Distillery is the Scottish main's northernmost distillery. Wick is a coastal town, and the whisky features flavors and aromas that evoke the sea.

This has long been one of my favorite single malts, because of its lovely, complex flavor and reasonable price (between $30-$40, depending on locale) for a 12-year-old scotch. Old Pulteney 12 is bottled at 86 proof, which is in the standard range for most scotches.

Taken neat, the color is a golden amber. My nose detects a hint of sea air, and some honey. On the tongue, I taste honey, more hints of the sea, a small bit of fire and peat and maybe a few bourbon notes. It's mouthfeel is medium  - not too heavy, not too light. It seems to finish quick and clean, but there's pleasant subtle lingering aftertaste. The alcohol burn is quite muted.

Old Pulteney 12 drinks quite nicely neat, in part because it's already been watered down some from cask strength, as are the vast majority of whiskies on the market. However, just because a whisky is bottled at less than cask strength doesn't mean that a little water in the glass won't potentially have a great effect on the aroma and flavor.

Add a splash of water, and things change quite a bit. The nose intensifies, and if I close my eyes and sniff, I can picture myself on a rock jetty with salt spray in the air.

The honey flavors recede just a little, and out comes more of the briny sea flavors,  as well as some of spiciness of the oaken bourbon casks. The finish lengthens as well.

One of the things that I happen to love about the coast is the smell of salt and seaweed in the air. The flavors and aromas of Old Pulteney can transport me to a bracing day on the edge of the sea, waves rhythmically breaking on the sea wall, salt in the air carried by a stiff breeze...as opposed to the southern Islay malts, which evoke stormy seas with raging waves and howling winds.

This is a single malt that I try to keep on my bar. I don't always succeed, due to Old Pulteney no longer being sold in home state of North Carolina.

Ardbeg Uigeadail - Pure Awesome

 

I'll cut to the chase. If you find a bottle of Ardbeg Uigeadail at a liquor store, buy it, and put it in your liquor cabinet. Or buy it, and send it to me. But buy it.

If you need to know more than that, read on ...

If I had to choose to only drink one whisky for the rest of my life, I'd go with Ardbeg Uigeadail (pronounced Oog-A-Dal). It's got an astonishingly rich, complex set of flavors that one can sip and savor for hours.

Despite being technically a single malt scotch- in other words, the product of a single scottish distillery where the grain bill consists of 100% barely malt, aged for at least 3 years in Scotland - Uigeadail is a testament to the art of vatting (marrying) different expressions to achieve something new and wonderful. It's also named after the lock (lake) that provides water to the Ardbeg distillery.

A brief aside, for context, is in order at this point. Ardbeg is an Islay scotch  - it hails from the Isle of Islay, off the southwestern coast of Scotland. Islay scotches are known for their peatiness, and Ardbeg is part of the monster peat triumvirate along the southeastern coast of Islay: Laphroig and Lagavulin are the other two. Other Islay scotches are peaty, but these three define the outer edge of peatiness.

Of further interest, is the modern history of Ardbeg. Once upon a time, the signature distillery bottling (at least in the US) was Ardbeg 17-year-old. However, the distillery was closed from 1981-1989, and open only 2 months a year for distilling from 1989-1996, and then closed again in 1996. It was bought by Glenmorangie in 1997 and slowly put back into full production.

The upshot of the production interruptions is that the standard Ardbeg expression available, at least in the US, became Ardbeg 10-year-old, and 17-year-old disappeared from the shelves. On a more speculative note, that production interruption and the resulting lack of stock may be part of the reason why the reborn Ardbeg has been so experimental, and why many of it's special expressions don't carry age statements.

Which wraps us back to Uigeadail. Ardbeg is traditionally aged in used bourbon barrels. Uigeadail is a mix of Ardbeg whisky aged in used sherry casks and Ardbeg whisky aged in used bourbon barrels. It's bottled pretty much at cask strength - 54.2% alcohol, 108.4 proof- and comes with no age statement.

And this is where the magic happens, The standard Ardbeg 10-year is a big, raw, brawling whisky that takes your tongue out to the woodshed and beats it into submission. And that's after being watered down to 92 proof for bottling, and likely more in you glass. It's a love it or hate it dram.

Uigeadail is a different beast. People who hate the standard Ardbeg find Uigeadail to be enchanting (based on actual experience serving the same set of folks both Ardbegs on consecutive nights).

The peat, the iodine, and the sea are still there, but the addition of the sherry-cask-aged spirit rounds them off with sweet notes and rich counterpoints. This is still an imposing dram, but instead of delivering a back-yard beat down to your taste buds, it simply sweeps them away into a another world of savory flavors dancing with sweet, smoke intertwining with sherry, and leaves them satiated, a little breathless, and yet still wanting another sip and another dance.

In the glass, Uigeadail is a dark red, amber. It promises depth, which it will deliver in spades.

Straight up - well I don't drink this straight up. I always add water, and a bit more than a splash, but never more than 25% of the whisky in the initial pour. Because when you add water, Uigeadail truly reveals its wonders.

For me. the nose (bouquet, aroma) is wonderful mix of peat and ocean water, blended with sherry notes.

In my mouth, Uigeadail feels rich and full and a touch oily (but not unpleasantly so). It has weight and presence - a hefty spirit, as opposed to a light one. To me, the flavors are tantalizing and stunningly balanced mix of peat, iodine, seawater, smoke, sweet sherry, and a hint of thick honey.

Uigeadail has a long, smokey, finish that lingers and lingers and lingers. You can easily savor it 15 minutes or more after finishing your dram.

Uigeadail runs $70 - $80 in the US, and is worth every penny. This has a permanent place of honor in my liquor cabinet.