Category Archives: Whisky Reviews & Tasting Notes

Jura Brooklyn Review

Jura Brooklyn576

42% abv

Score:  76/100

 

Truly one of the oddest bottling strengths I’ve ever seen.  And yet another in the endless, shameless parade of NAS nonsense.  Let’s assume this one actually does have a raison d’être – and I recall reading about its genesis a long while back – but it’s really just the next schtick, isn’t it?

Playing to some contrived connection between the wee Hebridean Shangri-La of Jura and the bustling metropolis of NYC.  Ummm…sure.  Reaching here, aren’t we, folks?

Anyway…the whisky.  A mix of ex-bourbon, pinot noir and Amaroso casks.  Without even tasting it those words would be enough to tell me that this is one of offspring of the Whyte & Mackay blending house.  Parts of this whisky work to a degree.  Other facets simply leave me head scratching.  Cohesion seems to be secondary to the storyline itself, and I kinda think if we’d skipped the pinot casks and let this one mellow for a few more years maybe this would be a different review.  But we’ve all seen ‘Wayne’s World’, aye?  “If a frog had wings he wouldn’t bump his ass when he hopped.”

Apparently there are malts in here up to 16 years, but I imagine the ratios are grossly skewed in favour of under 10s.  Such is the bane of NAS marketing.  Fortunately we have our finely-attuned senses to guide us through the bullshit, right?

Now I must admit…I have a soft spot for Jura.  Probably beyond what the whisky actually deserves, to be honest, but even so, this one is…not great.

Nose:  Nut-heavy and overly-malty.  Sharp with young notes.  Barley sugars, faint fruit melange (like bland frozen berries) and a touch of peat.  A little pepper.  Smells of a freshly-opened bag of white flour.  Leather.  Berry scones and sugar cookies.  Something slightly feinty here.  Just seems too young, but to fair, it does soften with time.

Palate:  There’s an earthiness here that hints of peat.  Leathery notes.  More nuttiness, and too heavy on the wine influence.  Like chewing barley stalks.  Farmy flavours (hard to articulate).  Yeah…there’s the wine and peat fighting it out.  Slightly, very slightly tannic.  Meh.  Let’s stop.

Thoughts:  Blind, I would immediately guess Jura or Dalmore, as this has Paterson’s fingerprint all over it (even if made – apparently – by Wee Willie Tait).  In other words…wine cask tomfoolery and such.  Not my cup of tea.

 

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

SMWS 33.93 “Tarry Peppermint Tea” Review

SMWS 33.93 “Tarry Peppermint Tea”IMG_2099

55.9% abv

Score:  86/100

 

Another nifty little Ardbeg from the SMWS.  At ten years old this time, but not likely too comparable to the distillery’s flagship ‘Ten’, as this one is from a refill sherry butt that yielded up 626 bottles; not an ex-bourbon barrel.

Ardbeg SMWS releases are well-coveted nowadays.  When they do hit the market they tend to be quite young and still full of teeth.  I think the oldest I’ve yet seen hit the shores here is an 11 year old (but I should double check that before I swear to it).  What this means is that the Ardbeg we do get from the SMWS should be somewhere in the neighbourhood of the standard or limited releases the distillery puts out.  I can’t really say that’s the case though.  Only one or two of the eight or ten Ardbeg SMWS bottlings I’ve tried actually fit the distillery’s recognized profile.  Odd, in ways, but understandable when you acknowledge that a) the distillery isn’t likely to let its best casks go to anyone (despite the fact that the SMWS and Ardbeg were under the same ownership up until about a year ago) and b) every cask is a snowflake.  Additionally, as we know, the single cask path is often paved with some very wobbly stones, so any preconceptions that this would be truly ‘Ardbeggian’ may be mistaken.

As the score above should attest, though, this is a rather decent outing.  I like the singularity here, if maybe mourning the lack of true Kildalton capital ‘A’ might.  In short…I liked this one, but didn’t love it.  But Ardbeg is like pizza or sex, right?  Even when it’s bad, it’s still good.

Oh, and by the way…not so much on the tar (in my opinion), but definitely the mint.

Nose:  Mint jelly.  Cigarette (generic, I know).  Deeply phenolic, and bearing notes of clay or putty.  Deeply briny, and somewhat barnyard-ish.  The mint grows exponentially over time.  Very seaside-esque.  Smoked oyster.  Some ash.  Slightly citric and vinegar-y maybe.

Palate:  Big oaky notes redolent of bourbon.  Spice and eucalyptus.  A lot of smoke.  Sharp citrus.  Apple skins.  A Palate that reminds a tick of Corryvreckan, oddly enough.  With maybe drops of Oogie in there too.  Seafood on the shell.  Dry scones.  Tannic fruit skins at the back end.

Thoughts:  Quite aptly named dram.  Unique enough to keep me coming back for more, but quite jagged.  While this came from a refill butt, I would never guess sherry. I may be being a mite stingy with the marks, but it’s definitely an outlier for Ardbeg.  Cool to try though.

*A friend of mine, Kelly Carpenter, founder of the Canadian extension of the SMWS put this little sample away for me a few years back, knowing I was an Ardbeg junkie.  Just now tasting.  Thanks, Kelly.

 

 – Images & Words:  Curt

SMWS 33.70 “Keith Richards Meets Socrates” Review

IMG_2086SMWS 33.70 “Keith Richards Meets Socrates”

57.3% abv

Score:  74/100

 

It’s 12:15 am.  May 29th, 2016.  It is now the day after Ardbeg Day.  Or perhaps I should say Ardbeg Night, as they’ve elected to brand it this year.  Over the past few days I’ve been fortunate enough to taste both the Committee and general releases of this year’s bottling, ‘Dark Cove’.  Unfortunately, however, I have no samples of either to review at this time, nor had I opportunity to set pen to paper and capture thoughts when I did try them.  Oh well.  I’m sure I’ll get another chance at some point.  In the meantime I figured I’d go one better this eve, and – sticking to the theme – tackle four indie Ardbegs from the SMWS (Scotch Malt Whisky Society, that is).

I’ll be posting tasting notes for all of them in very short order, but let’s kick it all off with the earliest of the bunch.  This 33.70 was a cask from several years back now.  1998 to be a little more precise.  It was born of a sherry gorda that yielded 848 bottles (I know!  Whopping outturn!), and bottled as a 10 year old.  And I must admit that the name alone had me excited to try this one.

Unfortunately, high expectations and distillery fanboyism has led to disappointment as devastating as a wee boat smashed to kindling on a rocky cape.  I came in expecting to sail high on this one (rich, dark natural colour, high strength, relatively mature age and from earlier (read: better) years) but my hopes were immediately tempered.  Reality is a harsh mistress sometimes.  This decader is heavy and cloying in thick caramel (which is bad enough) and nothing – not even herculean phenolic might – can completely temper the sulphuric undertones.  Put as simply as possible:  This was a real dud barrel.  Such is the nature of the single cask game, I suppose.  Disappointing nevertheless.

Nose:  Syrupy, heavily sherried nose.  Damp horse blanket.  Almost a vague hint of sulphur.  Too much caramel.  Ok…definitely sulphur.  Something reminds of young(ish) port here.  Savoury stewed fruits (even a little tomato).  Stale ashtrays.  Wax crayons.  Poor quality Roman Nougat.  Smoke.  Organic, mineral notes.

Palate:  Ash.  Smoke.  Immediately drying.  Bitter chocolate.  More ash and tar.  Salt licorice.  Cooked greens.  Oversteeped lapsang souchong tea.  Caramel apple.  Slightly syrupy.  Very dry finish.  And yeah…hints of burnt matchsticks.

Thoughts:  Not my kind of Ardbeg.  At all.  Granted I am grossly intolerant of sulphur, but still.  I had such high hopes too.  This is just…no.  Let’s move on.

 

– Images & Words:  Curt

Laphroaig 15 y.o. 200th Anniversary Review

Laphroaig 15 y.o. 200th AnniversaryIMG_1406

43% abv

Score:  90/100

 

While the old Laphroaig 15 always seemed to take such a drubbing in its day, it’s quite interesting to see the esteem in which it is held today.  Be it a rose-colored glasses scenario or a don’t-know-what-you’ve-got-’til-it’s-gone sort of thing, either way, we’ve seen quite an about face in terms of how that malt is revered.

When it was revealed that Laphroaig would ring in its 200th anniversary with a re-release of the 15 year old a collective cheer resonated throughout the whisky world.  Unfortunately that news was sort of shackled to the revelation that we’d be waving goodbye to the beloved 18 year old.  To make matters worse it came to light that the 15 too would only be available for a short while and in limited quantity (72,000, I believe).  It would seem we’re destined to have nothing consistent in the Laphroaig age-stated range beyond a 10 year old.  Truly an unfortunate situation, as Laphroaig is a malt that tends to mature very well.

I haven’t been able to try the two 15s (older and newer) side by side as yet, but I can say that the differences are both unquestionably perceptible and not at all a bad thing.  Both malts are surprisingly gentle and subtle, but the newer expression bears bigger smoke and less soft fruit.  While certainly no new school phenol bomb, this 200th anniversary edition is rather reminiscent of older Laphroaig expressions (read: pre-market explosion releases arguably harbouring older casks in the vattings).  And while less fruity than the earlier runs, this one does bring a wealth of sweetness not seen in contemporary Laphroaig (excepting the stunning 2015 Cairdeas).

Personally, I think I prefer the earlier editions for their subtleties and complexities, but this one really is a beauty.  Glad I grabbed a couple when the opportunity was available.

Nose:  Very vibrant; moreso than I’d expected from this low of an abv.  Soft fruits, earthy peat and a clean breath of eucalyptus.  Green mint leaf candies.  Lime and melon.  Maybe a little grapefruit.  Smells like rain on the beach.  Medicinal and notes of damp paper.  Definitely more assertive than the old 15.

Palate:  Much bigger here.  Bombastic smoke.  Tar.  Charred seafood.  Lime juice.  Toasted marshmallow.  More citrus zest.  A touch of fennel.  Mineral and medicinal notes.  Drinks a little bigger than the rather anemic 43% would suggest, fortunately.  Some candy sweet notes.  Vanilla and peat.

Thoughts:  Great whisky.  Laphroaig killed it this year with their two bicentennial releases, though the Cairdeas definitely pips this one.  Would have been a knockout at cask strength.

 

 – Images & Words:  Curt

Nikka From The Barrel Review

Nikka From The BarrelIMG_1385

51.4% abv

Score:  88/100

 

Sadly it would seem that Japanese age-stated whisky is becoming even more scarce than its Scottish brethren.  We’ll be a little more lenient in this case, as Nikka From The Barrel is actually a blend, in spite of what your senses may lead you to believe.

I meant to get to this review a couple years back, actually, as a few bottles of this one have been dust-gathering in my basement ‘whisky warehouse’.  Something always seemed to come first.  Now, being couch-bound and only three days out of surgery, I figured it was maybe time to hit up a few of the outliers in the collection.  Perhaps we’ll hit the Red, Black and White series too.  We’ll see.

As to this one…

Well, like I said…no age statement.  Japan is dealing simultaneously with serious overdemand and vastly understuffed warehouses.  If this was Scotland I would suggest it had to do with poor foresight, but I don’t think anyone realistically could have foreseen the rise of Japanese malts to the world stage (or even blends, for that matter!).  I’ve read a few whisky wordsmiths suggest they raised early cautions, but 5, 6, 7 years ago is not the sort of early caution that alleviates pressures on a spirit that relies on the advancement of years for development of flavour profile.

Does this mean we’re more forgiving of Japanese NAS whiskies than Scotland’s sleight of hand?  Nah, not really.  Japan relies less on historical governance and adherence to legislated restrictions than does Scotland, ergo less need to cowtow to the party line.  Tell us it is young and delicious, share the age on the bottle and concede the cask make-up.  Let’s face it…it’s not like the SWA will come a-knocking on those eastern shores.  Unfortunately, the reality is that Japan has sort of positioned itself as the legitimate heir to the Scottish empire, inheriting (if unofficially) its standards, conventions and, in a way, exists almost like a Platonic ‘form’.  Good luck shedding that skin now.  Am I getting too deep here?  perhaps.  So let’s move on.

Long and short of it is that this 500 ml bottle of 51.4% blended whisky is a hell of a drink.  Bold and rich, balanced and nuanced.  Much to like here.  And though I don’t know the current pricing, this one was about $55 Canadian when I grabbed it a couple years back.  Not bad at all.

Nose:  Definitely noses like a Japanese whisky.  Chocolate, soft balanced spices and poached fruit.  Some savoury mince notes.  Pepper, raspberry and blackberry.  Notes of spiced dough.  Lovely nose.  I would guess malt, not blend.

Palate:  Arrives with spice and clean oak.  Second sips are softer.  Fruits and milk chocolate, like a Cadbury Fruit & Nut bar.  Tea and tart fruit juice.  Apple.  Orange and cinnamon.  Very rich and heavy in dried fruits.  Which we love.  Spicy and savoury.  Big whisky, this.

Thoughts:  This one benefitted from a fair bit of breathing time in the bottle.  Not that it was rough off the cork, but the time spent mellowing was well-invested.

 

 – Image and words:  Curt

Port Ellen (Douglas Laing Old Malt Cask) Cask #3887 27 y.o. Review

Port Ellen (Douglas Laing Old Malt Cask) Cask #3887 27 y.o.IMG_1483

50% abv

Score:  89/100

 

These little forays into Port Ellen nostalgia are about to become a lot more scarce than they have been in the past.  I think I may have three or four more malts from this closed little piece of heaven to review in the next…well…whenever, but after that the well ’round here is really running dry.  I do know of an opportunity or two in the future that may change this, but serendipity has to be on my side.  Crossing my fingers.

Anyway…this one was tasted (again) at a recent Dram Initiative event I hosted.  If you’re not ‘in the know’, the Dram Initiative is our local whisky club, named for that esoteric little conclave from Lost.  We like wordplay, and definitely like the more cerebral aspects of modern civilization (such as programming that actually had script and plot, as opposed to halfwit celebutantes and Jersey shore inbreds).  But I digress.  Suffice to say, the club put on one hell of an event for the 80 plus members in attendance.  Eight Port Ellens spread over a couple hours of history, sentiment and shared opinion.  This 27 year old indie from the Laing brothers was the second last of the eve, and, incidentally, the second favorite of the masses.

It’s a quintessential Port Ellen as far as I’m concerned.  Very typical of the distillery’s profile, and very much on ethat helps perpetuate the PE mystique.  I’ve said it many times before (but not sure whether or not I’ve done so here on the site): Port Ellen is a whisky that matures well.  Late 20s are a great (I’d argue optimal) age for this distillery.

Nose:  Citrus, and quite a bit at that (lemon and lime this time).  Vanilla.  Salt water.  Slightly herbal (hints of green tea).  Biscuity, with some nice fruit notes (orange and berry).  Chocolate.  Freshly milled grains (seems ‘dry’ and dusty).  Expected peaty, smoky notes are an afterthought.

Palate:  Very typical Port Ellen profile.  Great arrival.  Delicate.  Citric.  Quite oily.  Tastes of subtle white scone or biscuit.  Tart fruit notes.  Smoky and peaty.  Granny Smith apple skins.  Toothpicks.  Leaves behind salt licorice.

Thoughts:  Right in my wheelhouse.  A great outing from Port Ellen that wears its years well.

 

 – Images & Words:  Curt

Port Ellen (Douglas Laing Old Malt Cask) Cask #3915 24 y.o. Review

Port Ellen (Douglas Laing Old Malt Cask) Cask #3915 24 y.o.IMG_1452

50% abv

Score:  89/100

On the eve of an unprecedented Dram Initiative Port Ellen tasting (well…couple eves away actually) I thought it would be apropos to post a few notes on one of the expressions we’ll be sharing with 80 of our closest mates.

As this one is from nearly a decade ago now, we’ll not get too longwinded.  With an outturn of only 476 bottles, chances are not too many will have had an opportunity to try this Douglas Laing Old Malt Cask selection.  That being said…we preserve these things for posterity and to add to the written lore of Port Ellen.  The more details captured now, the better the record in years to come.  That’s sort of the way I look at these jottings anyway.

Slightly atypical of Port Ellen, but not too far off the path, this one still retains the signature fragility and citric tarry-ness, but instead of a background of soft fruits starting to make their presence known through age, this one rests more on the phenolic encumbrances of all things Islay.  Namely…seashores, smoke in the air, medicinal nuance and the remnants of fire.  Oh yeah…and a hefty noseful of warm rubber welly boots.

A treat to try.

Nose:  Lemon.  Rubber, tar and ash.  A touch of creosote.  Medicinal top notes.  Smoke and earthy notes.  Pepper.  White chocolate.  Not a lot in the way of fruits.  Oceanic.  Dust (as in in old books).  Wet rocks.  Barley is easily detectable.  Peat and smoke.

Palate:  Whoa.  Much more smoke now.  Dry and ashy.  Still rubber.  Now licorice.  Some dry, bitter citrus zest.  Oak.  Lemon on charred scallops.  Underripe green apple.  A little emergent fruit now.  Peaty, earthiness.  Smoke grows and lingers, almost like toasted wood.

Thoughts:  Fruity notes do eventually emerge, but this is not a fruity dram.

 – Images & Words:  Curt

Ardbeg Perpetuum Review

Ardbeg PerpetuumIMG_1428

47.4% abv

Score:  89/100

 

Ardbeg really takes a drubbing these days.  Seems to be everyone’s favorite whipping boy.  Now, I can hear the collective groans out there and know the immediate reaction will be something akin to ‘awwww…poor Ardbeg…fleecing us with NAS expressions and making a fortune once or twice a year with so-called limited releases’.  The sentiment seems to be along the lines of feeling sorry for the Kardashians for not having any privacy.

Here’s the thing: I hate – as much as, or more than, most whisky lovers – this constant barrage of shitty NAS malts that are flooding the market, but the simple fact of the matter is that Ardbeg consistently releases bloody great expressions.  Even those that don’t take the highest place on the platform are still miles better than most new whiskies hitting the shelves.  Additionally, the prices, while frustrating over the past few years, are suddenly not far out of line with most other new releases.  Not that that is justification, mind, but it is acknowledging that in this case at least the devil we know is consistent in terms of quality, while the others are suspect (at best).

The cynics out there will lambaste me for this one.  So be it.  I’m practically past the point of giving a f*ck.  Anything positive I say about NAS expressions is seen as treasonous to the campaign against this initiative.  I get it.  Unfortunately my own morality when it comes to being honest supercedes any sort of agenda.  Bloggers are constantly under scrutiny regarding their morality.  I’d like to think I still have mine in tact.  So let’s say it here and now, in hopes of deflecting some of the questions that will inevitably come afterwards:

This is an appeal to the folks at LVMH/Ardbeg:
Please start putting age statements on these expressions.
It is known and accepted that Ardbeg is generally served up fairly young.
That’s why we like it.  Peat works well in youth.
Wear that number proudly.
I’ll buy.  We’ll buy.

There.  PSA over.  Let’s get on with it.

Seems I may have liked this one more than some reviewers out there.  Granted while I have been fortunate enough to try it a few times through others and at tasting events and festivals, and was given a sample not long ago, I do not have a bottle kicking around to work through and note the evolution over time.

Perpetuum was released in 2015 to commemorate the distillery’s 200th anniversary.  I think most of us had our fingers crossed for a relaunch of the 17 to mark this special occasion (and unbelievable milestone!), but alas…it wasn’t meant to be (yet?).  We do know that Ardbeg is now able to warehouse more than they are releasing, so hopefully team green is building up to some sort of healthy surplus of mature malt.  Time will tell, I suppose, but my fingers remain crossed for a more advanced age-stated addition to the core range.  At the time of writing, word has trickled down of a new Ardbeg 21 on the horizon.  I can only imagine the cost and limited availability.

Perpetuum.  Infinity.  Or perpetuity, to be a little more precise.  Gotta hand it to the marketing team here.  There is always a clever spin at play.  My own slightly more cynical point of view falls a little closer to Sage Serge’s thoughts, though, if I’m to be honest.  But let’s let the whisky speak for itself.

BTW…I cannae recall the ages of malts that went into this vatting, but I think it was a marriage of 7 to 13 year old Ardbeg.

And did I mention how much I detest this being yet another NAS expression from Ardbeg?

Nose:  Soft candied fruits.  Lime.  Ash and smoke.  Soft doughy notes, indicative of a bit of aged malt in the mix.  A little bit of pear and a little bit of lime.  Maybe green melon.  Vanilla softens things here.  Still sooty, charry and all that.  Y’know…Ardbeggian.  But muted.

Palate:  Now some licorice.  Smoke.  Earthy peat, but also very approachable for a dram from Islay’s heaviest of heavyweights.  Wet charred wood.  Salty and tingly.  I love how soft and hard this is at the same time.  A yin and yang malt for certain.  Green apple skins.  Citrus, of course.  Charred scallop.

Thoughts:  Ardbeg back on top.  Nice to see some decently mature spirit in the mix softening things up.

 

– Images & Words:  Curt

Kavalan Solist Bourbon Cask #B100811025A Review

Kavalan Solist Bourbon Cask #B100811025AIMG_1423

58.6% abv

Score:  90/100

 

This is the 13th release I’ve tried from the Solist series.  Solist, if you’ve not been acquainted, is the cask strength, single cask range from Taiwan’s Kavalan distillery.  As with any single cask releases, we’re bound to find a mix of diamonds and coal.  I’ve tried a few of these young malts that soared well into the 90s (in my opinion anyway), and I’ve also tried a couple sulphured sherried ones that were almost grotesque caricatures.  Typically though, I’ve found the sherry cask matured Solist usually outshines the ex-bourbon.  But we’re not looking at the sherried version today.

This release, tasted with the Liquorature club a few months back, was a very pleasant surprise.  It’s big on tangy fruits and leans much more toward the sweet camp than the spices that have dominated some of the other editions I’ve tried.  The distillery’s sub-tropical setting allows for a lot of oak expansion – molecular spread in the barrels, if you will – permitting the spirit to pull from deep within the tight oak grain.  Hence the reason these malts mature so quickly, and with such big flavour.

On the plus side of things…this is hell of a whisky, mature beyond it’s short life in wood (maybe 5 years?).  On the down side…no age statement.  C’mon, Kavalan.  We know it’s young.  How ’bout telling us just how young?

Typical of these cask strength limited runs, this one came out at a shockingly low outturn.  Hefty angel’s share in this warm environment.  Only 187 bottles hit the markets after all was said and done.

Nose:  Sweet and fruity.  Soft caramel notes (surprising for a nearly 60%er).  Like all Kavalan, smells mature beyond its years.  Gummy candies.  Maybe some Roman Nougat.  Toasted marchmallow.  Red Dino-sours.  Gorgeous soft spices.  More on nutmeg than cinnamon.  Definitely a big bourbon influence from either some lively wood or just a very humid environment leading to cask breathing.

Palate:  A huge amount of fruit again.  Red fruits, juicy and sweet.  Loving the sweet barley notes that shine through.  Bigger spice here now.  Like sugar cookies on steroids.  More bourbon notes, by way of cinnamon and synthetic cherry.  Loud oaky background.  Oily.  Great long finish.

Thoughts:  Unquestionably a 90 point malt.  Absolutely mouthwatering.

 

 – Images & Words:  Curt

Kilchoman Machir Bay 2015 Review

Kilchoman Machir Bay 2015IMG_1410

46% abv

Score:  86.5/100

 

Let’s do one in honour and memoriam of a very fine man.  Just days ago John McLellan, Kilchoman’s distillery manager and native Ileach, lost his battle with cancer.  I had spoken with owner Anthony Wills just five or six months back at a local festival here and was told that John was not well, but they were hoping to see him back again as soon as possible.  Those that met John will know what a loss this is to the whisky world.  A kind man with a really big heart and warm smile.  Seeing his signature on this bottle is reminder of the fleeting nature of our time here.  Rest easy, John.  Thanks for all.

With that said, let’s keep it short and sweet in regard to the bottle at hand.  We’ve drunk plenty of Machir Bay in our time.  In fact, even going so far as to review it here a wee while back.  So let’s see how things hang together for the sake of consistency.  Also assuming this is still about a five year old malt, give or take a little on either side.

Coming into this one I’d expect nothing but a scrappy young thing with big billowy smoke and an almost aggressive edge.  That’s perfectly in my wheelhouse though.  And that’s exactly what we get here.  Peated Islay whiskies work well at young ages, as we’ve discussed here before.

My wife came home with this bottle for me a couple days back.  She’s sweet that way.  I’m currently in early planning stages for my next trip over to Islay this September, so perhaps it was the constant mentions of peat mecca that had her feeling generous.  Who knows.  Either way, timing is everything.  Fun to revisit this one.

Nose:  Young, feisty, farmy peat.  A cola-like sweetness.  Smoky and briny.  Citrus, salt and pepper.  But with all these ‘sharp’ notes it’s still somehow soft.  A touch of rubber and new make spirit.  Not too nuanced and complex yet, but it will be in time.

Palate:  A very faint touch of peach.  A lot smoke.  Ash.  Anise.  Burnt apple pie.  Pepper.  Dirt.  Tastes of the new make, but that’s ok here.  The Kilchoman new make is nice indeed.  Easy drinking youth.

Thoughts:  An absolutely beautiful strapping young malt.  And unquestionably Kilchoman.  Great testament to the ways in which young whisky can be brilliant.

 

 – Images & Words:  Curt