Author Archives: antihero7

Highland Park Loki Review

Highland Park Loki 042

48.7% abv

Score:  90.5/100

 

Loki was the second release in Highland Park’s Valhalla series, following on the heels of Thor.  When word started trickling down the pipeline that these releases were imminent some of us historically-bent, Norse god hailing whisky bums began salivating in anticipation.  We knew the prices would be prohibitive, the whisky would be middling (in terms of age statements, not quality, that is) and the outturn would be quite limited.  Enough to deter many of the great unwashed, in other words.  But c’mon…a cask strength HP packaged up in a mini Viking longship?  That’s pretty badass.

Gimmickry and inflated price tag aside, Loki is a really, really good whisky.  Quite different than its forerunner Thor, but about par in terms of inherent quality.  This one wears its 15 years well, seeming maybe even a little more mature than that, and man…what a palate here.  Great late evening malt for nights when the wind is howling and the fire is roaring.

Nose:  Floral notes.  Spice and tobacco.  Some peat and pepper.  A little bit of orange, and just the faintest hint of peach.  A whiff of very dry smoke and an earthy, organic edge.  Beeswax and honey.

Palate:  Great delivery.  Some peat and smoke arrive early.  More of those orange fruit notes here too.  Sugar cookies.  Poached stone fruit with spice.  Lemon and warm honey.  A nice smoky linger over great rich fruit notes.  Thick and oily.  Probably even better on the palate than the nose, and gets fruitier with time.

Thoughts:  I recall initially liking Thor more than Loki, but I think I’ve swung back the other way.  Let’s not split hairs over scores.  Different malts, but we’ll give ’em the same marks.

 

 – Reviewed by:  Curt

 – Photo:  Curt

Bushmills 21 y.o. Review

Bushmills 21 y.o.050

40% abv

Score:  86.5/100

 

40%?  Really?  I hate to beat a dead horse, but there is simply no valid argument – if you want to present a case to me that you are offering a premium single malt experience, that is – in support of releasing an old and rare(ish) whiskey chill-filtered and watered down to this sort of consistency.  If I sound rather perturbed with this one, let me explain why…

This is really good whiskey.  The nose and palate are harmonious; the nuance and profile are pleasant and intriguing; and the balance struck across all faces of this expression is impressive.  If you have that much going for you, why the hell would you opt to strip out all of the rich and oily mouthcoating fats and lipids via chill-filtration and leave us with a mere shadow of what could be?  Boost the strength to 46% and offer the consumer the true whiskey experience.  This is a perfect example of why Irish whiskey is seen as a lesser sibling to Scotch.  It doesn’t need to be this way.

Alright…let’s breathe deep and appreciate what we have here instead of harping on what we don’t have.  Shouldn’t be hard.  After all, I am a fan of Bushmills.  This is the brand I cut my teeth on.  This 21 year old single malt is one of the apex expressions in the Bushmills portfolio.  It’s a malt composed of bourbon- and Oloroso-matured spirit whish has then been further married together in Madeira barrels for a finishing period.  Sounds like some of Richard Paterson’s sort of witchcraft, but the cohesiveness of the end product is admirable, considering I usually find this sort of triple wood maturation is often close to overkill and beckoning us too deep into tannic wine country.  Not so, here.  Very adept blending.

If you can look past my initial gripes above – and the ~$200 price tag – this is a very nice dram.  Recommended in spite of myself.

Nose:  Quite gooey and jammy.  I like the fruity, spicy balance.  Raisin scones.  Black current.  A little chocolate, and a little caramel.  Barley shows through to nice effect.  A hint of wine gums.  Really good nose, all in.  Clean and appealing.

Palate:  Frustratingly thin and lacking texture, though the flavours are nice.  Grape meets licorice in a way that again reminds of wine gums.  Love the tangy effect and mix of fresh baking and quality preserves.  Faint marzipan.  Over-steeped tea.  The oak gives a slight nip here that gives a tannic feel.  Tastes like a very young 21.

Thoughts:  The nose and palate work really well together, but this one truly is hamstrung by the low abv and lack of mouthfeel.  Oh well.  Still really good, but could have been a classic.

 

 – Reviewed by:  Curt

 – Photo:  Curt

Caol Ila 18 y.o. Cask #11143 (A.D. Rattray) Review

Caol Ila 18 y.o. Cask #11143 (A.D. Rattray)185

55.7% abv

Score:  90.5/100

 

Good whiskies are found everywhere.  We know this because we’re constantly hunting them down and sharing the word via forums such as this.  Truly spectacular whiskies, however, are unquestionably much more scarce.  And even more elusive are truly spectacular people.  Here’s a little story of how these two things came together for me in a serendipitous little meeting.

A while back I saw a message on Twitter that showed a dram of Caol Ila.  Not just any Caol Ila, but one so deep and dark I was simply blown away by the depth of brown and red in the glass.  The colour was stunning – not that we form our opinions based on colour, mind you – and obviously spoke of a massive sherry influence on the spirit.  To date there have only been a couple of uber-sherried Caol Ila expressions that have crossed my lips.  I recall one being incredibly industrial and almost unapproachable, while another was quite spectacular.  Even that oddball industrial mash-up was singular enough to make me come back to it time and again out of sheer ‘can’t-wrap-my-head-around-it-ness’.

I started asking questions and was informed that this Caol Ila was an 18 year old independent bottling from A.D. Rattray, bottled exclusively for Wine & Beyond, and was being used by my dear friend Val Bradshaw for a whisky tasting event.  She and I discussed a bit and I walked away with an assurance that she would try to let me taste this one at some point.  Whew!  Mission accomplished.  Little did I know, though…

A long while later Val came by for a wonderful evening of friends, drams and discussion.  She didn’t bring me a sample of that Caol Ila that night, however.  She brought me an entire bottle.  A beautiful gesture from a woman with a heart of gold and an infinite understanding of both the spirit itself and the spirit inside that drives my passions.  These are the things that make a whisky unforgettable and help us cement memories and friendships that last a lifetime.  Not the gift itself, of course, but the thought behind it and the place it comes from.  Amazing.

And the malt itself?  As wonderful and unique as I’d hoped.  Deeply rich sherry and earthy peat in a perfectly matched tug-of-war.  No winner.  Just a contest for the ages.  And the best part?  This one takes me right back to Islay; sipping whisky in the warehouse, right from the barrel.  Nothing like it.

I should note:  The bottle is marked as a partial cask.  Wine & Beyond took a chunk of the outturn, but where the rest wound up?  Who knows.

Nose:  Bucketloads of sweet jammy fruits and bold clouds of smoke.  Caol Ila?  Really?  I’d guess Bowmore if tasted blind.  Flint, ash and iodine.  Some rubber and tarry notes.  Menthol drops and cherry cough syrup.  Cask char.  Dark syrupy notes and strong vanilla.  Spicy tea, cold coffee and dark chocolate.  A savoury, meaty note too.  All of these descriptors are accurate (in my humble opinion anyway), but they don’t work to describe the cohesive whole.  Man, what a nose.

Palate:  Huge arrival.  Bigger than huge, actually.  Like plums and berries that have been rubbed in a tangy Asian sauce and roasted over a smoky-as-hell bonfire.  More oceanic here.  Grapeskins and good chocolate.  Ginger and cinnamon.  Dark, moist tobacco.  Again…very jammy.  Earthy, peaty and farmy.  Great juicy dram.

Thoughts:  Unforgettable, not simply due to the backstory, but because of its intrinsic nature.  Deep and contemplative.

*Sincere thanks to Val Bradshaw for the hook up on this gem.  Love ya, babe.

 

– Reviewed by:  Curt

 – Photo:  Curt

Glenfarclas 25 y.o. Review

Glenfarclas 25 y.o.182

43% abv

Score:  88/100

 

A late night stop in a local spirit seller last night landed me a couple bottles of the old standby, Glenfarclas 15, at the rock bottom price of $65 a piece.  If you’ve been following current whisky trends (and I’m sure you have) you’ll know that quality affordable age-stated malts are pretty close to a critically endangered species nowadays.  You can imagine my delight at finding such a score just blocks from home.

It was also cause for reflection.  While I’ve drunk ridiculous amounts of Glenfarclas over the years, I’ve not yet reviewed nearly as many as I should have.  Something to be remedied in the coming days, I think.  Let’s face it…second only to Springbank, Glenfarclas is the ‘be all, end all’ in traditional whisky making, and that is something that places this distillery in the top tiers of my own personal favorites.

So having said all of that, let’s dig into an iconic malt from this old school family owned and operated Speyside juggernaut.  Here we have Glenfarclas 25.  This is a whisky that tends to get glossed over in favour of the always available 15, the bombastic 105 or the rather exceptional 40 (largely depending on your personal tax bracket, of course).  The fact of the matter is, though, that this is a great dram at a more than fair price point.  It delivers almost exactly what I’d expect, and always feels like a bit of a homecoming.  Quite highly recommended.

Nose:  Jammy sherry notes with a hint of toasted caramel and sticky vanilla pod.  Apple, stewed stone fruit and tobacco.  Spicy wood notes.  Red ju-jubes and fresh cinnamon.  Crème brûlée and grilled orange zest.  Warm and familiar.

Palate:  Oh wow.  Great delivery.  Turns to apples and oranges first before plunging deeper into dried fruits and the warming buzz of all things sherry (spice, chocolate, raisin and all things Christmas cake-like).  There is a heft of fruit peel (slightly drying) and toasted wood.  Speaking of toasted notes, perhaps some roasted marshmallow.  A slight nuttiness; walnut, I think, with maybe some almond.

Thoughts:  Not the cleanest or most exciting of the Glenfarclas range, but a great old dram nonetheless.  Always a treat to revisit.

 

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Nothing If Not Consistent…

I had a strange and enlightening experience a few nights back.  I sat down with a range of whiskies and a mind to taking some notes for upcoming reviews.  This range was built with Caol Ila 30 as the cornerstone malt.  I threw in a Caol Ila 25, a 27 year old single cask of Port Ellen and an Octomore.  I figured the two Caol Ila showed a nice opportunity for compare and contrast; the Port Ellen would be a ‘sister’ malt in a way, and of a similar age and spec; and the Octomore would be easy to dissect by drawing strong points and counterpoints of comparison between the old gems and Islay whisky at youth and bombastic might.

All told I probably spent about an hour and a half on these four glasses, bouncing back and forth, using easily found notes in one malt to highlight strengths and deficiencies in the others.  Etc.  After I’d taken all my notes (and emptied the glasses, of course), I began formatting the posts here on the site.  Now here’s where things got weird.  As I started the Port Ellen template I found a post from several weeks back of this very same expression.  I do recall posting a PE review, but I didn’t realize it was this particular one.  As I started to compare my notes and scores – done in complete isolation from one another and weeks apart, I want to stress – I was rather impressed at how close they were, even picking up some very distinct nuances in both cases.  Have a look for yourself.  I think it says something for the consistency and rigidity of the tasting environment I aim for, and to ensuring nose and palate are tiptop before really digging in.

Not gonna lie…this made me a happy boy.  Check it out…

Port Ellen 27 Provenance Cask #6101
46% abv

027

Original published review:

Score:  90.5/100

Nose:  Very Port Ellen right off the bat.  Soft biscuity notes.  Old book.  Clean grist.  Faint seabreeze.  Mild citrus and wet rock.  Very faded peat and smoke.  A whiff of Werther’s Originals.  A little bit of honeydew melon and caramel.

Palate:  More alive here.  More fruits.  Oh wow.  Now we’re deeply entrenched in Port Ellen territory.  Smoke and beachside bonfire.  Lemon juice over charred scallops.  Sugar cookies.  Burnt lemon rind.  The smoke grows over time.  Something slightly herbaceous.

Thoughts:  Still a special whisky, but lacks a little oomph that would have pushed it even higher.  Can you imagine at cask strength?  A very restrained and elegant Port Ellen that suits my palate perfectly.  Love this one.

020

Second independent assessment:

Score:  90/100

Nose:  Instantly recognizable.  Light and coastal.  Fresh seabreezes over wheat fields.  Sugar cookies.  Faint whiff of sunflowers and beeswax.  Far off smoke and soft notes of cinnamon buns in the oven, though fleeting.  There is a touch of peat, but it is even less than an afterthought.  Rather typical of our older PEs.

Palate:  Fragile and endearing, as expected from a Port Ellen nearing three decades.  Very sweet.  Built on a bedrock of soft fruits.  Perhaps melon, pear, apple and lime.  Barley sugars and much like chewing on fresh grains.  Wet rock.  Seared scallops with salt and lemon.  Charred oak.

Thoughts:  Beautiful expression of Port Ellen.  Held a little too in check by the low abv, but it’s by no means dead because of it.  At cask strength though?  I can only imagine.

Pretty damn close, no?  Both sets of notes mention wet rock, seabreeze, grist/barley sugars, cooked scallops, citrus, faded/far off smoke, notes of baking, immediate identifiability as a Port Ellen, fragility/delicacy and too low of abv.

I think this serendipitous little happening will be enough of a catalyst to get me to now intentionally engage in retastings more often.  Definitely a hell of a way to keep a reviewer honest, sharp and consistent.  And if we’re not those things, we’re nothing.

 

  – Images and Words:  Curt

Dram Initiative #018 – Tamdhu

Dram Initiative #018 – Tamdhu

January 22nd, 2015

 

(We’re a little behind on some of these past DI event write-ups, so let’s see if we can’t catch up a bit over the coming day.  Between reviews, that is.)

Poor suckers.  When they signed up as members of the Dram Initiative no one told ’em they’d occasionally have to listen to me blather on for hours at a stretch.  I suppose that’s the price to pay for the opportunity to sample some of the fine ol’ drams we offer up.

A fine gent whom I love like a drunken old uncle (y’know…the kind who always wants to borrow money?), and who also happens to be the VP of the Dram Initiative, Maltmonster, once told me a secret to speaking out with confidence on subject matter for which you may be on shaky ground.  That path to enlightenment consisted of two words: ‘Bleeding Heart’.  I won’t get into the linguistic origins of this phrase and context but the theory behind the concept suggests that if you speak with enough assurance and without hesitation no one will doubt you.  It’s rather ‘Miyagi-ish’, really.  Sort of an ‘if do right, no can defense’ idiom.  I took it as such anyway while preparing my presentation for this event.

‘Cause really, let’s face it, aside from the brand ambassadors and the distillery workers themselves, who the f*ck knows much about Tamdhu?  Before this event?  Not me either.—

076

Let’s do a quick catch up then.  Tamdhu is a Speyside distillery with a production capacity of about four and a half million litres per annum.  The spirit tends to be rather innocuous, with malty and fruity characteristics.  But that could be almost any Speyside whisky, couldn’t it?  Nothing too exciting, to be honest, but when Tamdhu starts to make its way down the backside of the hill (into its 30s and 40s) it proves to be one of the sexiest old malts around.  The most wonderful thing about that, however, is that the price remains shockingly low, since they tend to be independent bottlings and are from a distillery of little renown.

We got to dig into some nifty little historical whisky roots with this event.  In fact a huge portion of the presentation was a throwback to the late 1800s and early 1900s.  We spoke to the history of early Scottish distillery innovation and architecture; Prohibition and the linguistic origins of the phrase ‘The Real McCoy’; early whisky writing (via Alfred Barnard’s incomparable tome ‘The Whisky Distilleries Of The United Kingdom’); the evolution of technical maltings; etc.  For whisky geeks like me (and a bunch of the members) this stuff is gold.

018 (2)

The name ‘Tamdhu’ comes from the Gaelic ‘Tom Dubh’ which means ‘Black Hill’ or ‘Little Dark Hill’.  The distillery was founded in 1896 and first casked new make spirit in 1897.  At one time Tamdhu was called ‘the most modern of distilleries … perhaps the best designed and most efficient distillery of its era’.  It’s architect was none other than the highly distinguished Charles C. Doig.  Doig, if you’ve done your homework was one of the most foreward thinking of distillery planners, having designed 56 of them in his day, and also responsible for the advent of the Doig Ventilator, or as we laymen know it: the pagoda.

—Historically Tamdhu has always been recognized primarily as a blending whisky, and a rather non-descript one at that.  We wondered if we’d be able to unshackle the malt from this less than flattering yoke.  Much of the distillery’s output gets dumped into Cutty Sark, so that seemed like a logical jumping off point, and a turning point for making sense of the brand’s decision to forego much of the single malt market.

027 (2)

The evening’s line-up fell out as follows:

  • Cutty Sark Blended Scotch Whisky (40% abv)
  • Tamdhu – 2013 NAS Distillery Bottling (40% abv)
  • Tamdhu 16 y.o. First Editions Independent Bottling (56.2% abv) 1998-2014     253 Bottles
  • Tamdhu 17 y.o. A.D. Rattray Independent Bottling (62.9% abv) June 20, 1990 – November 20, 2007     291 Bottles
  • Tamdhu 1989 Carn Mor Independent Bottling from a Hogshead (54.0% abv) 29/09/89-04/02/13     150 Bottles
  • Tamdhu 1971 Gordon & MacPhail Independent Bottling (43% abv) 1971 – 2011
  • Tamdhu 1971 Gordon & MacPhail Independent Bottling (43% abv) 1971 – 2013
  • Tamdhu 42 y.o. A.D. Rattray Independent Bottling Cask #6 Co-op Wine & Spirits Exclusive
    (43.8% abv) January 2, 1967 – March 30, 2009     95 Bottles

055

There were some truly special malts on offer tonight.  Namely those last three.  And unquestionably the last one in particular was a showstopper of a dram.  I have a serious history going back with this malt.  One that involves some good friends and great memories.  Or maybe great friends and good memories would be a more apt way to put it.  Either way, a roomful of collective sighs validated initial opinions and served to affirm that the DI committee is steering this crew in the right direction.  Nice to see a whisky universally adored.  That shared experience becomes something that transcends the simplicity of a whisky tasting.  I imagine many in the room look back on this one with fond memories now too.

065

All in all, another very memorable night.  We got to pick on our Irish and ginger contingents a bit, have a few laughs and pull together a tasting that is probably one of the most unique I’ve ever been a part of.  ‘Cause really…who other than the Dram would do a Tamdhu tasting?

 

– Words:  Curt

– Photos:  Curt, Steve and Scott (aka The Ginger Buddha)

Caol Ila 25 y.o. (2011) Review

Caol Ila 25 y.o. (2011)030

43% abv

Score:  88.5/100

 

I last tasted this one at home amid a small range, side by side with the Caol Ila 30 year old special release and a couple others.  While this 25 year old distillery bottling is served up at a rather anemic 43% abv, the 30 year old weighs in a much more strapping 55.1% abv.  I should also make known that there was this nagging little voice in the back of my skull that kept whispering about how spectacular the old 25 year old cask strength edition was.  Ill-advised preconceptions had me coming into this one less than enthused for the low abv, I hate to admit it, but still eager to try.

Happy to report that while it was indeed a little thin, it was certainly not lacking for character or quality.  In fact I found it not dissimilar to Port Ellen of comparable vintage.  Not much of a surprise there, really, as these two malts have almost always matured to a similar profile by this age bracket.  Delicate whisky that deserves complete attention, arrives with little bombast, but lingers beyond the last sips.  That’s an admirable quality for a low test, chill-filtered (and probably coloured) whisky.

My favorite Caol Ila by no means, but one I would love to have made available locally on a much more regular basis.

Nose:  Almost Port Ellen-esque.  Slightly grassy and herbal.  A touch of lime.  Very fresh and light.  Cooking oil on wood.  Faint, faint smoke.  Sweet and dessert-like.  Some vanilla.  Pastry and a little orange and lemon.

Palate:  Slightly leathery at first.  Again…I’d probably guess Port Ellen or older Caol Ila if tasted blind.  Oak.  Oysters on the shell.  Notes of lemon.  Very bitter and strong vanilla.  A little bit of smoke now.  It grows bigger on the tongue.  Smoked apples skins.

Thoughts:  Lovely whisky but a tad disappointing nevertheless.  So many great notes.  Should have been left intact, high strength and unfiltered.  Oh well.  We can carry on about what we don’t have or lean back and acknowledge that this is still a very special malt.

 

 – Reviewed by:  Curt

 – Photo:  Curt

Octomore 6.3 Islay Barley Review

Octomore 6.3 Islay Barley068

64% abv

Score:  89.5/100

 

It’s always a treat to spar with this heavyweight.  I somehow always come out standing at the end, but perhaps a little worse for wear, punch drunk (or just plain drunk) and somewhat wobbly on my feet.

This is the beast we’ve all been talking about since word leaked a long while back about a malt boasting a peating spec of 258 ppm.  258?  Really?!  Yep.  Sounds monstrous, I know, but the reality is a little different than that, in spite of all our preconceptions.  It is true, however, that this Octomore 6.3 is unquestionably the most scorching show of measurable phenolic heat to which we’ve yet been subjected.  I think the previous highest peating level was 169 ppm.

It’s been mentioned by others, though – and I’d have to agree – that there seems to be a threshold beyond which the olfactory and palatal sensors cease to detect any more noticeable increase in phenols.  Put simply…this tastes no peatier or smokier than some malts on the market with phenolic specs in the range of 40-50 ppm (think Ardbeg or Laphroaig).  Where we get the true test of might (the ‘put hair on your chest’ test, if you will, boys AND girls) is pairing this heft of peat with a paint-stripping 64% abv.  This is an absolute uppercut of a whisky, all told.  And incredibly awesome for it.  Much more than a novelty, I should add.  While I can’t imagine striking a balance was the aim with this one, I can say that it’s sometimes fun to simply revel in the effects of this sort of punch drunk lopsidedness.

Nose:  Smoke and peat.  Burnt rubber.  Cola syrup with A familiar Bruichladdich rich buttery note.  Very farmy and rich in dark soil.  Flinty and mineral-y.  Tart lime and citrus zest.  Slightly bittering, but in a good way.  Maybe burnt caramel.  No need to go further.  This is big, but incredibly also very sharp and seemingly delicate.  Neat balance struck here.

Palate:  So oily and mouthcoating.  Simply incomparable  Octomore is undoubtedly the most singular malt in the world.  Sharp cola notes meet farmy, earthy peat.  Smoke builds and rolls out in wave over wave of black billows.  Burnt rubber.

Thoughts:  What I wouldn’t give to drink this along the shores of Loch Indaal.  Despite 258 ppm this is not an abomination of a drink.  My score is in concession of the fact that I am an unapologetic Islayphile.

 

 – Reviewed by:  Curt

 – Photo:  Curt

Caol Ila 30 y.o. (2014) Review

021Caol Ila 30 y.o. (2014)

55.1% abv

Score:  90.5/100

 

This was one of my most highly anticipated releases for 2014.  To my knowledge it is the oldest distillery bottling of Caol Ila that Diageo has ever offered up.  It’s certainly the oldest official release I’ve tried so far.

I’ve been fortunate enough to taste a couple of 30 year old Caol Ila independent bottlings, but it’s debatable how true they are to the distillery’s target profile, irrespective of how great they were.  This opportunity to see what the brand itself would offer up as the apex expression of its mature malt is a privilege, especially in light of the hefty price tag associated.  Even if I ultimately wanted to scoop one up, the nearly four figure price tag was enough of a deterrent.  Enter the generosity of friends, and voila!  A few notes to share and some lasting memories of another glorious example of what mature Islay whiskies can be with enough time and care.

This bottling – a part of Diageo’s annual run of special releases – was a limited release of 7,638 bottles.  The price was high, of course, but so is the payoff.  Having tried it now, would I drop the coin for this one?  Nah.  I’ll save those kind of rare purchases for something a little more special.  That shouldn’t belittle the point, though, that was a special dram and one I’m pretty damn pleased to have as a notch on my bedpost, if you will.

Nose:  This is BIG whisky, and one I’d never peg as a Caol Ila.  Quite ‘meaty’ for lack of a better word.  Burnt wood.  Big spicy notes.  Well-seasoned leather.  Opens slowly into thick threads of smoke and caramel.  Citrus, but less than I’s expect with Caol Ila.  Lime candy.  Certainly somewhat coastal.

Palate:  Oh yeah.  Nice delivery.  Massive and oily.  More smoke now.  Peaty and earthy notes grow bigger over time.  Tangy fruits and an intensity somewhat like an underripe green apple.  Pencil shavings.  Caramelized ham.  Again some leather.  Slightly menthol.  Salty, and did I mention oily?

Thoughts:  This is a whisky tied up tight.  Hard to unravel and demanding of attention.  Complex and not really all that recognizable as Caol Ila.

* Sincere thanks to the kind, anonymous gent who shared a healthy dram of this with me.  Appreciate it.

 

 – Reviewed by:  Curt

 – Photo:  Curt

Dave Broom

From Whisky Advocate, Summer 2015:

“No Age is also, as I’ve said before, a perfect way to explain the difference between age and maturity, to show the whisky maker’s art.  To do that, however, the new whiskies must be as good if not better than the ones they are replacing.  Too many high profile examples have failed to do that.  There is no transparency as to what goes into the bottle, what the principles of NAS are, why it is happening now.  Again, it’s a failure to engage.”

 – Dave Broom