Author Archives: antihero7

Highland Park Fire & Ice Editions Review

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Highland Park Fire

45.2% abv

Score:  80/100

 

One of two in this mini-series from Highland Park (I think this one came out second, actually.  We’re probably doing this backwards, but oh well).  The Fire Edition is a 15 year old malt finished in refill port wine-seasoned casks.  I have no clue what that actually means.  Same concept as sherry-seasoned barrels, I assume.  So…are these full pipes then, or maybe just hoggies?  No clue.  Anyway…

Nose:  Slightly muddled and barnyard-y.  Nutty.  A touch of rubber and some peat, of course.  Suede.  Faint coffee.  Damp hay.  Pepper and chili.  Cinnamon.  Faintly floral (dead, faint potpourri).  And an organic earthiness that isn’t entirely pleasant.

Palate:  Earthy and dirty.  Slightly cardboard too (almost cork taint-ish).  Orange.  Herbal and kinda leathery.  There’s a touch of smoke and an organic peatiness, but its all rather restrained.  A drying sensation at the back end (some tannins from the port, I imagine).

Thoughts:  Ultimately…not awesome and rather boring.  I expected bigger and bolder.  

 

Highland Park Ice

53.9% abv

Score:  81.5/100

 

And the other in the series.  Ice was a 17 year old HP composed from ‘rebuilt first fill bourbon’ casks.  Ummm…aren’t they all?  Or is they again just referring to inserting a few staves in the ‘bebuild’ and being able to call it a hogshead.  No matter.  More importantly, I suppose, these have been capped with virgin oak heads.  That should bring some spice and fat vanillins, no?

Nose:  Definitely noses as the fruitier of the two.  Quite some eucalyptus.  Peppered melons.  Floral notes (heathery).  With a touch a bubblegum.  Marzipan.  Cinnamon cookies.  Faint whiffs of peat and a soft smokiness.

Palate:  Vibrant – definitely moreso than Fire – but sharp and tangy.  Ginger.  Almost wine-y (ironic, considering Fire was the port-seasoned malt).  Lemon pepper.  More peat here.  Citrus.  An almond sweetness.

Thoughts:  Meh.  I do like it better of the two, but it’s still just okay.

 

Wrapping up:  Over-packaged.  Over-priced.  Over-promised.  Under-delivered.  Anyone else over Highland Park’s Viking obsession?  Once one of my unquestionable favorite distilleries has become a rather sad triumph of style over substance.  I’ll stick with the 12 year old.  It’s the only one in the range that offers any value (seeing as the 18 is now $220, the 21 about $350, the 25 running at almost $800 and the 30…fug.)

 

 – Image & words:  Curt

Highland Park Magnus Review

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Highland Park Magnus

40% abv

Score:  78/100

 

You don’t come here for justification of the philosophies that support NAS whiskies.  And that’s good.  ‘Cause you wouldn’t find it.  However…if we have to have NAS whiskies, let Highland Park Magnus be an example to all.

Magnus is the latest cutesy HP to hit our shores (nosing out Full Volume by just a short bit).  It arrived with little fanfare, but quickly garnered a bit of a rumbling in the malt spheres.  Not because it was a spectacular dram (it’s not), nor because it was a bad dram (it’s not that either).  But because it was much more than decent and the price point was enough to have us all scratching our heads in bewilderment.  Is this the same brand that nearly doubled the price of the iconic 18 year old over the last few years?  Magnus landed and almost immediately hit LTO, retailing at about $35.  Even at full retail it’s rarely over $45.

While I have trouble getting excited over most young malts like this, I can’t help but be pleasantly surprised at the product’s placement.  It immediately ratcheted up my openmindedness and tolerance for imperfections.  Now this all seems like a case of ‘damning with faint praise’, but trust…at this sort of price it’s hard to imagine anyone being disappointed.  It’s young, aggressive and almost certainly recognizable as Highland Park.  Even a modicum of malt experience should be enough to ensure the buyer knows what they’re getting into when the product lacks an age statement and has a sticker price that rubs shoulders with the lower tiers of Johnnie Walker.

A reluctant ‘well done, Highland Park’.  I’m still not on board with NAS (and never will be), but I get what you did here.

At the end of the day, though, if we’re going to call NAS whiskies a necessary evil (which I won’t), then at least this is the way to do it.  Dump it at the bottom of your range at an entry-level price point.

Nose:  Definitely a young’un.  Feisty and bearing all the hallmarks of what our beloved Iain MacArthur (he of Lagavulin fame) often refers to as ‘baby whisky’.  Malty and honeyed.  Not surprisingly, rather floral.  And sorta creamy.  Little bit of pepper.  Little bit of ginger.  Just a faint earthiness that hints at the pedigree.

Palate:  Now here’s where things get a bit rockier.  Some lemon curd.  A touch of rubber.  Some peat.  Drying citrus pith (but not overly citric in terms of flavor).  A tad minerally (like sucking on a pebble.  More ginger and pepper.  Surprisingly oaky back end.  And something akin to dry grape skins.

Thoughts:  All told?  This is too young.  BUT…and it’s a big but (hush up with the bad jokes)…for this price point I’m okay with it.  Outprices many blends, and definitely more interesting than most too.  Definitely needs some time to mellow in the glass.

 

 – Image and words:  Curt

 

 

Arran James MacTaggart 10th Anniversary Edition Review

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Arran James MacTaggart 10th Anniversary Edition

54.2% abv

Score:  87/100

 

Just a couple weeks back I walked the club through a range of ten single cask Arran releases that were all bottled exclusively for Kensington Wine Market.  Ten cask strength beauties ranging from seven years to two full decades of age.  Nary a bad drop in the lot.  I was already a fan of this wee island distillery, but this event cemented things to an even greater degree.

At it’s core it comes down to three basic elements:  1) Arran has a clean and estery base spirit coming off the stills that is cut just right.  2) The brand’s wood policy is excellent.  3) The talents at pulling together barrels for vatting are immense.  The sum of these pieces is a beautifully cohesive whole.  And what it ultimately leaves us is a rich portfolio of Arran malts that are always fun to sit down to and rarely leave me anything but impressed.

This particular expression just hit our shelves in Calgary a couple weeks back.  It’s a ten year old malt, composed as an homage to Master Distiller James MacTaggart, who’s been plying his craft at Arran in this coveted role for…yep…ten years.  A nice little tribute to a gent who I understand is an absolute gen of a human.  Nice to see these things in our jaded age.

As for the malt…clean and lovely.  Broadly appealing, I’d imagine and infinitely drinkable.  Almost a ‘session malt’ in my humble opinion, if maybe a tad too sweet for my own personal tastes.  But, hey…that’s just me.  My own personal leanings shouldn’t color what, ultimately, should be as objective a review as we can fathom.  The whisky is well-composed and without a trace of off-key notes.  Well worth a tip.  And the price is right for a cask strength beastie like this: ~$115.

Nose:  Clean and custardy.  White chocolate and sprinkles of ginger.  Poached pear.  Orange and cherry.  Cinnamon.  A slight popcorn note (maybe just the strong influence of ex-bourbon barrels bringing a corn-iness?).  Beignets with a dusting of powdered sugar.  Toasted oats.  White tea.  In short…soft fruits and soft white baking aromas.

Palate:  Orange.  Clean oak notes.  A lot of bourbon influence seeping through here.  I can only assume some very active barrels in the mix.  Plenty of spice.  Ginger and chili.  Some pepper.  Lots of syrupy sweetness.  Underripe Bartlett pears on the finish.

Thoughts:  Clean and easy-drinking.  Uber-sweet.  The ice wine of malt whisky (or should that appellation be reserved for Glenmorangie Nectar D’Or?)

 

 – Image & words:  Curt

Lagavulin 12 y.o. (2015) Review

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Lagavulin 12 y.o. (2015)

56.8% abv

Score:  90.5/100

 

Just realized how few of the Lag 12 CS releases we’ve actually looked at here on ATW and kinda feeling a bit of shame right now.  This is definitely a release worth following year upon year.  Buying it, however, has gotten harder and harder.  Not for lack of availability, but because of sky high pricing locally.  Over the past couple of years we’ve gone from about $120 up to nearly $180.  Ouch.

But old man grumblings aside (“back in my day, we could buy Lagavulin 12 for…”) this is a really good malt.  Some of the 12s have seemed a little thin in recent years, almost one-trick-ponies in a sense.  This 2015 limited release, however, has a little more to it than initially meets the eye.  It needs a bit of time to develop in the glass, but allowing the clock to tick away long enough for the fruits and soft vanilla notes to come forth is well worth it.

I know there has been mention for a couple years now of declining quality of Lagavulin (especially as it relates to the 16 year old), but as I’ve said before, I haven’t really bought into that camp.  The 12 year old annual outturn merits a slightly different narrative, however, in that is batch-released and maybe isn’t targeted for the same sort of consistency the 16 is.  Ergo, a bit of a game of chance with each successive release.  So be it.  The quality is fairly consistently high, if not consistent in exact profile.

This is the most recent of the 12s I’ve tried.  Now let’s see if I can’t get my hands on the more recent ones (and maybe a couple older ones too).

Nose:  Warm rubber.  Dry earth.  Wet smoke.  Oily vanilla.  Red, black and green ju-jubes.  Citrus.  Brine.  A whiff of red berries.  A touch of orange zest.  Key lime pie.  An over-torched crème brulee.

Palate:  Over-toasted notes.  Salt licorice.  Oversteeped Lapsang Souchong tea.  Fisherman’s Friend cough drops.  Boiled greens.  Lemon.  Rather herbaceous as it develops.  Granny Smith apple skins.  Cinnamon-flavoured tooth picks.  Earthy peat and waves of smoke go without saying.

Thoughts:  Juicier than expected.  Multi-dimensional.  Nice smashing together of fruit and phenols.

 

 – Image and words:  Curt

Compass Box Phenomenology Review

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Compass Box Phenomenology

46% abv

Score:  88.5/100

 

Held to impossible standards, maybe.  Such is the esteem John Glaser has written himself into.  Even the least of the Compass Box releases stands head and shoulders taller than any comparable whiskies on the market.  Glaser has done amazing things for the world of blending, especially as it relates to the world of blended malts.

A visit to the Compass Box website tells us that “phenomenology is a school of thought in psychology that focuses on phenomena or the experiences we get from our senses.”  Okay.  Leave no stone unturned in your search for intelligent and intellectual marketing.  This has always been a forte of the company that has brought us the Lost Blend, Enlightenment and Hedonism.  Tie that to packaging that shames nearly everyone else in the industry (excepting maybe Ardbeg) and whiskies that consistently hit harmonious heights that others merely gawk at and it’s no wonder Compass Box is such an industry darling.

In keeping with their stance on transparency in whisky, the good folks at CB have kindly jotted down the recipe for Phenomenology for us (on their website, of course, because to do so directly on the bottle itself is obviously such an overt threat to the dinosaurs in the SWA that we need to find workarounds to share the info).  Quite a concoction, this.  One you’d never peg blind, I’d wager.  72% Glenlossie, 24% Tamdhu, 2% Highland Park, 1% Talisker and 0.5% Caol Ila.  The latter three contributors – making up just 3.5% of the cumulative volume – bring so little heft to the final product that smoke is nothing but a suggestion.  It wouldn’t surprise me if most folks thought that was nothing more than barrel char notes.  I did.

So what do we think?  Well…it’s great, of course.  I’d expect no less.  Unfortunately it’s also almost forgettable.  Beautifully constructed, but just not enough personality to differentiate itself.  It’s like the models that grace the pages of the fashion magazines in your local grocery.  They’re all lovely, but they’re also interchangeable, nameless and soon forgotten.

Nose:  Clean grains.  Soft fruits.  Pear and underripe pineapple.  Fruit flan.  Vanilla.  Heavy cream.  White chocolate.  Just a hint of eucalyptus.  Syrup-heavy fruit cocktail.  A whiff of smoke somewhere in the far reaches.

Palate:  Firm, oaky backbone.  Crunchy apple and pear.  A touch of pineapple again, caramelized.  Lychee fruit.  Oily vanilla.  Lemon.  Alcohol-soaked angel food cake.  Decent finish that fades mostly on fruit and a slightly woody note.

Thoughts:  Quite lovely, all in.  Just maybe lacking a little of that oomph we expect from Mr. Glaser.  Especially at the $220 mark.  Left me wanting more.  Happy to drink it, but doubt I’d buy it at this price.  Compass Box aficionados should be well-pleased, though, I’d think.

 

 – Image and words:  Curt

Loch Dhu 10 y.o. Review

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Loch Dhu 10 y.o.

40% abvv

Score:  55/100

 

Loch Dhu.  ‘Black lake’ in Gaelic.  Arguably the most infamous malt in history.  Note that I said ‘infamous’, not ‘famous’.

If you don’t know Loch Dhu, take a moment to Google.  You’ll likely find a few interesting things.  First: the Loch Dhu site, full of blather and useless sales pitches.  Second: the endless written word of well-warranted criticism.  And third: a bit of history surrounding this franken-malt and its genesis at Speyside’s Mannochmore distillery.

We could turn this review into a bit of a history lesson on the Mannochmore distillery, but nah.  Let’s just revel in the black filth that the good folks at Mannochmore voluntarily elected to inflict on the malt world.  I say ‘good folks’ but if you’ve had a taste of this stuff, and are anything like me, you’re probably going to question the applicability of such an appellation.  No one, in a spirit of benevolence, offers this to the masses without insisting upon a signature at the bottom of a waiver the length of War And Peace.

If you’re still not following where I’m leading here, let me spell it out.  Loch Dhu is A-W-F-U-L.  Truly and unquestionably awful.  Like, quite possibly the worst single malt I’ve ever tasted.

So how does this stuff end up to be the color of the tar?  Twice charred casks, so the story goes.  Uh, okay.  Yeah, that and a few gallons of E150a perhaps.  And you wanna tell me artificial coloring doesn’t impact flavor?  Riiiiight.  Let’s go with that.

Betcha expected me to go against the grain and try to find something nice to say, right?  Nope.  Fug that.

This score can likely be taken with a grain of salt.  I may have been overly generous.

Nose:  Burnt…something.  Over-stewed jam.  Leather on a hotplate.  Espresso.  Hoisin sauce.  Old dead flowers.  Maybe a hint of earthiness (is that peat?).  Savoury mince.  Over-rummed fruitcake.  Bitter tea.

Palate:  Bitter.  And sweet.  But not bittersweet.  And quite savoury.  Some sort of tart jam on burnt toast.  Cold espresso.  Something sort of weedy.  Black licorice.  Burnt demerara sugar.  and heavy molasses.  Some sort of offensive, unpalatable cough syrup (Buckley’s maybe?).  Sen Sens on the finish.

Thoughts:  There are one or two pleasant notes.  Shame there are dozens of unpleasant ones.  I expect this is the drink they hand you at the gates of hell before checking in for the long haul.  Hard to believe its only 40% abv.  Feels like a dumptruck of nitroglycerine being poured down my throat.  Shudder.

 

– Image & words:  Curt

Darker Things

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Hey, friends.

Before I get too much grief for not spreading the whisky gospel here as frequently as I should, rest assured…I haven’t gone anywhere just yet.

I’ve been doing a lot with whisky and a lot with writing.  Just not writing about whisky.  I’ve been captaining a handful of whisky events here in Calgary (sharing the spoken word, and not just the written), and I’ve been rather buried in trying to knock off the last stretch of my second novel.  Almost there.

A few of you were kind enough to track down my first published foray, “Sadie”, and shared some great feedback.  Thank you for that.  Appreciated more than you know.  Breaking into the writing world is harder than you can imagine.

Earlier this year I finished my first actual novel.  It’s a dark one.  I can’t lie.  Gritty.  Nasty.  Think early Stephen King and you probably have an idea as to the vibe of seventies-homage horror I was aiming for.  All polished up, of course,  with a bit of contemporary stylings.  If you’re interested, “Darker Things” is available on Amazon here (US) and here (Canada).  E-readers only, at the moment, but hard copies will be available soon.  Early reviews have been great (and flattering), but every review/rating helps.  If you do elect to follow me down this dark path, please, please, PLEASE leave some Amazon/Goodreads feedback.

Have also started a new blog for this venture.  Feel free to pop by in its infancy.  http://www.darkerthoughts.com

Thanks a million.

More whisky to come.  Soon.

Head To Head – Ardbeg Dark Cove Committee Release vs General Release

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Head To Head – Ardbeg Dark Cove Committee Release vs General Release

 

A bit later than I expected getting to this.  Such is.  I’ve learned to stop caring about any sort of schedule for this site, self-imposed or externally-nudged.  And you good folks have been infinitely patient and supportive.  Appreciate that.  More than you know.

As with any Ardbeg release that hits the shelves in both Committee and general release, the immediate question is one of quality comparison.  How does the more readily available (and affordable) standard version hold up to the higher strength, alternately-packaged and premium-priced ‘members only’ edition?

In this case?  Quite well, actually.  As you’d expect, the Committee bottling is a better dram.  In all respects.  It’s deeper, richer and brings to the fore some notes that are either muted or non-existent in the general release.  But that’s not to say the general release isn’t a great dram.  It is.  I think Dark Cove was meant to be an Uigeadail-esque Ardbeg, redolent of heavy sherry and deep peat, dark in tone and color.  It succeeds on all fronts, but I think more interesting than this comparison would be a proper H2H of Dark Cove vs Uigeadail.  Perhaps we’ll have to do that one too.  All in the name of science, right?

Good malt, this.  Happy to have a few of each put away for future sessions.

 

Ardbeg Dark Cove (2016)

46.5% abv

Score:  88.5/100

Nose:  Deep and rich.  Dark fruits.  Pepper.  Fisherman’s friend.  Moist tobacco.  Fruit leather.  Wet ashy notes.
A touch of raspberry.  Fennel.  Smoked ham.  Clay-like and minerally.  Warm, melty caramel aromas.

Palate:  Horse blankets (no, I’ve never licked horse blankets, but the smell of ’em is the taste here).  Peat and smoke.
Gooey, jammy notes.  A tobacco linger.  Hot ginger.  Pepper.  Brine.  Seared scallops.  Dark chocolate.  Medicinal / Band-Aid notes.

Thoughts:  Not as good as Uigeadail, the other big sherried Ardbeg to which this is often compared.  But…still good, of course.

 

Ardbeg Dark Cove Committee Release (2016)

55% abv

Score:  90/100

Nose:  Coffee.  Dark chocolate.  Peat.  Licorice.  Iodine.  A new pouch of loose tobacco.  Damp earth, wood and moist dunnage.  Wet ash.  Very savoury.  Smoked ham and all sorts of BBQ notes.  Dark, dark oily vanilla here.  A mash-up of red, green and black Ju-jubes.  Big dark caramel notes.  Hoisin.

Palate:  Gooey, sticky malt.  Smoky and peppery.  Burnt shellfish.  So much bigger of a delivery here than the standard release.  The oiliness is heavenly.  Rich fruity notes.  More vanilla.  Smoked fruits.  A fresh bag of dried fruits.  Licorice.  So thick and tarry.  Wow.

Thoughts:  Flawless?  Nope.  But exactly what I wanted it to be.  Really like this one.  So much more than just the regular release at a higher strength.

 

 – Images & words:  Curt

Ardbeg Ten (2015) Review

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Ardbeg Ten (2015)

46% abv

Score:  88.5/100

 

Re-reviews haven’t really been a thing here on ATW, but the times they are a changin’ and the subject of decline is one that comes up time and again, so…let’s revisit an old favorite and a bottle that’s always open around here.

No need to spend a lot of time talking about this one.  We all know it.  And let’s face it…I do spend a lot of time on Ardbeg here.  MJ had his Macallan, Serge has his Brora, I have my Ardbeg (and PE).  We write about what we love.  (Ano…I do not consider myself to be in such illustrious company, just drawing a parallel).

I do want to say, though, that I don’t buy into the recent rumblings that An Oa will boot this from the core range.  That would be suicide.  This brand has proven time and time again that they’re nothing if not a few steps ahead.  The last thing they’re gonna do is go entirely NAS.

Oh yeah…and they’re producing at an incredible clip, with long range plans for distillery expansion.  Surprised it took so long.  Anyway…notes:

Nose:  Razor sharp and incredibly clean.  Big smoke and very organic peat notes.  Citrus (lemon and lime).  Salt water.  Vanilla.  A little orange and pear.  A nice peppery bite.  Jolly Ranchers.  Shellfish drizzled in whisky.  Ginger and more pepper.

Palate:  Peaty arrival.  Assertive lemon notes.  Pepper.  Chocolate (white and dark).  Lime and a touch of orange oil.  Love that peppery, licorice-heavy back end.  Apple peelings on the finish.

Thoughts:  As good as ever.  Arguably still the best 10 year old on the market.

 

 – Images & words:  Curt

Grace, Too

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Gord Downie has been the voice of my life for as long as I remember.  His words are the stories that play in my mind.  His music is the soundtrack that plays through my memories and colours every aspect of my life.  If there was ever any secret narrator linking together the milestones and meaningful moments of my life, it was Gord.

My heart hurts right now.  A lot.  I feel like I lost a friend.  A close friend.  One who was always there for me and always able to make the worst days a little bit better.

There’s so much more I want to say but, for once, I’m lost for words.

You’re missed, Gord.  Already.  And you always will be.  Thanks for everything.

Love and peace.

Gord Downie

1964 – 2017

“…armed with will and determination, and grace, too.”