Category Archives: Whisky Reviews & Tasting Notes

Lagavulin 12 y.o. (2011) Review

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Lagavulin 12 y.o. (2011)051

57.5% abv

Score:  90/100

 

Can’t believe we haven’t yet covered one of these beastly young Lags here on ATW.  Lagavulin is so intrinsically identifiable as the refined old gent of Islay-  the more austere and mature dram of the big three (Ardbeg, Lagavulin and Laphroaig) – that getting to see it in its untamed youth is kinda like seeing old photos of your grandparents and finally realizing that these beautiful old souls you know and love were once young, active and full of verve.

Lagavulin is most often seen in its 16 year old flagship incarnation.  That whisky is a classic.  A touchstone.  A personal favorite.  (And, in my humble opinion, still in great shape, irrespective of what some others say regarding quality slippage).  But once a year we smokeheads and peat-o-philes are blessed with a scrappy and snarling 12 year old annual limited release of Lagavulin.  That four year age variance constitutes a world of difference in terms of what the final product turns out to be.  To be honest though…I’m not sure which I prefer more.  I suppose the truest answer to which Lagavulin is my favorite would have to be ‘the one closest to hand’.

One quick note on appearance now.  Not cause the aesthetics mean anything, but because it may speak a little about the casking for this one.  This malt looks fairly blonde.  Much lighter than the 16, which I believe has some sherry influence.  Does that mean that this is primarily (or entirely) bourbon barrels?  Or that the 16 is heavily coloured?  Dunno.  I do know, however, that the 16 carries more notes I’d associate with some sherry in the mix.  Either way…having a bottle of each on hand ain’t a bad thing.  Just sayin’.

By the way…drinking this stuff while on Islay is the stuff dreams are made of.  This is the distilled essence of the island.

Nose:  Coastal as hell.  Band-aids soaked in brine.  Ocean water.  Cracked white pepper.  Smoldering peat fire and bucketloads of tasty smoke.  Mint leaves candy and green ju-jubes.  A touch of soil.  Oysters on the shell…with a good squeeze of lemon.  Some cocoa behind it all.  A touch of coffee.  Horse blanket.  Something kinda creamy and sugary.  Sweeter and fruitier than I’d imagined it could be.

Palate:  Sweet, smoky delivery.  Very earthy.  Lemon and shellfish.  Intense salt and pepper.  Bittersweet chocolate.  A little anisette.  Grains are crisp and clear.  Sour apple peelings.  The smoke and medicinal notes echo on and on.  Man…I love a whisky that lingers on the tongue like this.

Thoughts:  Lagavulin is just as impressive in youth as it is in maturity.  Here we get to see the power of the peat before time has really knocked the jagged edges off.

 

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Compass Box The General Review

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Compass Box The General019

53.4% abv

Score:  93/100

 

Now here’s a whisky that has generated a significant amount of buzz over the past few months.  Not to mention garnered pretty much universal acclaim in nearly every printed word I’ve seen so far. 

Reading these reviews and write-ups, without having been able to taste for myself,  has been a bigger tease than the proverbial virgin prom date scenario.  It’s no exaggeration to say this was probably my most anticipated dram of the last year or so.  I’ve been anxiously looking forward to this one since first hearing about it.  Not because blends generally turn my crank, mind you, but because I think nearly all of John Glaser’s work is rather exceptional. 

Glaser has a gift for sourcing great casks.  That in and of itself is a blessing in an industry rife with mediocrity in terms of available barrels hitting the market, but that’s only half the battle.  It’s what he does with the whiskies he does secure that is cause for amazement.  ‘The General’ is a release that very possibly eclipses all that came before it in the company’s already rather impressive portfolio.

‘The General’ is a blend of two other blends, each of which was married in relative youth and allowed to mellow for further decades.  If rumour holds true, one of these blends was at least 33 years old, while the other is probably somewhere into its forties.  I’m not sure what the component whiskies are that eventually ended up coming together under the name of ‘The General’, but man…what a fateful meeting.  These are like perfectly cast pieces of a puzzle that were always meant to be together as parts of a whole.

If Compass Box, a relatively small upstart of a company, can pull off a release like this, why can’t the big guns in the industry do the same?  Or better?  If only more whisky makers would approach blended whisky with the same reverence that Compass Box does, perhaps the style would be much less maligned today.  ‘The General’ is a pristine example of the true ‘blender’s art’ whisky.  This and ‘The Last Vatted Malt’ (yes, a blended malt, not a blend) are simply in a league of their own.   

Sadly, for the masses, there were only 1,698 bottles of this whisky produced.  If you didn’t get one early on, you’re not likely to find one.

Nose:  So much harmony here.  Creamy fruits, dusted in nutmeg.  A little bit of orange.  Smooth polished oak notes.  Toasted caramel or toffee.  Creme brulee.   Meringue.  Old fashioned candy shops.  Almost notes of syrup and eucalyptus.

Palate:  Oh, my god.  What a delivery.  Thick and oily.  Mouthcoating and mouthwatering.  Chewy and rich.  Deep toffee notes.  Marmalade.  Figs.  Coffee cake.  Some sort of spiced fruit and nut mix.  Luscious.  Long finish.  All brilliant notes ebbing on the finish.

Thoughts:  This is simply beyond good.  Tastes like more.  …And that’s what I’ll have next.

 

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Port Ellen 24 y.o. Cask #2466 (A.D. Rattray) Review

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Port Ellen 24 y.o. Cask #2466 (A.D. Rattray)052

60.6% abv

Score:  91/100

 

Opening a new bottle of Port Ellen is becoming more and more a cause for occasion as the days go by.  The shelves are barren of releases from this shuttered Islay distillery, and what is out there – if you do manage to find it – is priced beyond the common man (which I most certainly consider myself).  To put it simply…Port Ellen is nearly as rare as hen’s teeth nowadays.

For this very reason, it was a treat to crack a bottle of this 24 year old malt for a group of mates a couple nights back as we sat around and pretty much behaved as you’d expect a bunch of pretentious 30-somethings to behave (even though we brought along a 40-something and a 50-something, just for their worldly ways and charm).  A great quote which I’ve long since lost the attribution for went something like this: “don’t collect the whisky; collect the memories you can make with the whisky”.  And so we did.  Hey…you can’t take it with you, right?

There’s an interesting tale behind this release.  Cask #2466 was a split cask for A.D. Rattray, in which 188 bottles were released in 2007 as a 24 year old at 60.6%, and the remaining 199 bottles were released in 2008 as a 25 year old at 60.4%.  Not an occurrence we see often, and one, I can only imagine, that would drive some completist collectors absolutely batty in trying to track down both halves to this whole.  Fortunately, that’s not me.  I just drink the stuff.

If it helps, though…I believe the 25 year old portion of this malt was released only on European shores, while the 24 year old was a bottling that landed here in Alberta and was an exclusive for Liquor Barn and Liquor Depot.  The latter is what we have in hand, have now tried a couple of times and will speak to here.  I believe it is now gone, but incredibly was still on the shelves up until just a couple of weeks back.

Before we dive into my notes on this one, I just wanted to mention that the only other tasting notes I saw for this release (again…the 24 year one) were passed on to me by a mate, and referred to it as similar to an Octomore.  Until I popped the cork on this one I was a little skeptical about comparing a 24 year old PE with a fiery young Bruichladdich, but the comparison is surpringly apt.

This isn’t a whisky with a lot of complexity, but what it lacks there it more than makes up for in personality.  A rather fascinating mix of young and old profiles from this cask that was filled in 1982, just one year before the distillery finally closed its doors for good.

Nose:  Enormous.  The biggest Port Ellen I’ve ever encountered.  Peat and smoke.  ‘Burning barnyard’ farmy notes.  Iodine.  Seabreeze.  Vanilla ice cream.  Pepper.  Tar and chocolate.  Lime zest and green Jolly Ranchers.  Herbal.  White chocolate dipped honeydew melon.  Gets better and better the longer you nose it.  Surprisingly starts to get a little creamier as it relaxes.  Apparently this came from a sherry cask.  Ummm…ok.  If you say so.

Palate:  Hell yeah!  Huge and hot.  Peaty and oily.  The cereals are everywhere.  Minerally and slightly tart.  Leaves and branches (not that I’ve ever eaten them, but it’s like the palate’s equivalent of that olfactory experience).  Slightly medicinal.  Ash and charcoal.  Much less fruit than I’d expect for 24 years on, but maybe some hard fruit candies.  Especially the green ones.

Thoughts:  Like an oily Caol Ila slamming head-on into a farmy Octomore.  Wow.  Just wow.  And more importantly…how the hell did this one manage to come out at such an astronomical, blinding abv after 24 years?!

 

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Kavalan Solist Vinho Barrique Review

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Kavalan Solist Vinho Barrique048

Cask #W080225006

59.2% abv

Score:  91/100

 

Let’s head East again for another great ‘world whisky’.  Namely, Kavalan’s Solist Vinho Barrique.

The Solist releases, as we’ve covered in past reviews, are the Taiwanese distillery’s massive, limited run, cask strength offerings.  This particular Solist expression was matured in American oak ex-wine barrels.  According to Kavalan, these barrels held both red and white wines for a little extra added complexity.

First things first…while I may only be a moderate Kavalan fan in general, I am definitely a HUGE fan of the distillery’s Solist series.  These strong and youthful whiskies are so deeply marbled with flavour and nuance that it’s honestly difficult not to get lost in the experience every time I pour one.  This isn’t hyperbole.  The Solists are malts to be slowly savoured.  The depth of character and utterly unique profile are worth complete attention and focus.

This Vinho, being a variation on a theme, was a welcome addition to the range.  I’ve tried a handful of the Solist sherry releases, a couple of the bourbon ones and one of the Fino.  All I can say is…man…I truly recommend getting out there and trying this stuff.  This particular bottling bears all the hallmarks of Kavalan’s now-familiar profile: exotic spice, rich woods, dark fruits and a surprising maturity.  What the wine cask influence brings to this one is open to debate (being nowhere near as ‘wine-y’ as I had expected), but I can certainly say that the sum total is dead on for my liking.

Great whisky.  Somewhat expensive.  Worth every penny.

Nose:  Deep, wet woods.  Aged rum.  Damp oiled leather.  Dark chocolate.  Cherries, plums and purple grapes.  Dark…almost burnt…vanilla.  Uber rich.  Some very mature notes on here, which are surprising considering the relative youth of this one (I’ll be pickled if it’s older than 5-7 years).  Reminds of some sort of Asian sauce.  Great waves of spice.  May be just a touch of smoke too.  Way less wine influence than I’d expected.

Palate:  Tart and tangy.  Juicy and mouth-watering.  Viscous, like a rich sauce.  Dark fruits and somewhat jammy (plum).  Slightly over-oaked, I’d say, but it somehow sorta compliments the over-the-top enormity of this one.  Sourness here too that is quite enjoyable.  Touch of varnish.

Thoughts:  This was a slightly polarizing one locally, but I loved it.  Something struck a chord here.  I’ll be honest and concede the palate is a little rockier than the nose, but it works for my own biases.

 

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Glenturret 10 y.o. Review

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Glenturret 10 y.o.024

40% abv

Score:  79.5/100

 

Man…I actually dreaded sitting down to write up this whisky, knowing as I do the distillery’s connection to The Famous Grouse (arguably my least favorite blended whisky).  Imagine my surprise then, when the malt in question turns out to be a rather ok, if unspectacular, dram.

While the debate about Scotland’s oldest distillery is one that is liable to rage on indefinitely, Glenturret is yet another distillery that has thrown its name into the hat for having a legitimate claim to the title.  A claim, of course, does not necessarily make it so, and while 1775 is definitely an early entry into the books, the reality may be a little different than the assertion.  Let’s just say I buy into this one as much as I buy into that 1608 claim from our good friends at Bushmills.  For those that care to read a little further, an interesting rundown of the Glenturret history can be found at the Malt Madness site.  No point in regurgitation here, when they’ve already done such a splendid job of sharing the benefit of their wisdom.

So…while the history and the bloodline of the malt is one of my favorite aspects of Scotch whisky, I imagine you’re here to read about whether or not the whisky itself is actually decent stuff, so let’s move on…

Glenturret is indeed one of the key components of The Famous Grouse.  While the distillery produces a mere ~350,000 litres of spirit annually – some of which is bottled as single malt – it still somehow manages to have a hefty influence on the Grouse.  Try the two side-by-side and you’d be hard-pressed not to recognize the DNA.  The thing is…the malt-heavy, syrupy, caramel-laden ‘blah’ that is the Grouse personified is only mildly present here, making me believe the ‘blender’s art’ is probably mostly to blame for the Grouse’s stodgy and (for me) almost undrinkable profile.

As for the Glenturret 10 though?  At the end of the day, it’s pleasant enough for a young malt.  Go into it knowing that you can expect a whisky with a rather milquetoast personality.  It’s a generic, malty, grain-driven dram.  Not overly complex…not a trailblazer in any way.  But so what?  It’s young, affordable and drinkable.  Its unpresupposing nature makes me like it a little more than the score belies.  I don’t mind drinking this when I want something simple.  I believe that’s called ‘damning with faint praise’.

Nose:  Decent nose.  Dusty grains and clean barns.  Slightly floral.  A touch of orange and grapefruit.  Sugar cookies with a faint dusting of old cinnamon.  Biscuits or scones with currants.  A little bit of pepper.  Then a little more pepper.

Palate:  Clean.  Drying barley and grassy notes.  Prickly delivery, but not tooooo aggressive.  Slightly metallic.  Spice and powdered ginger.  A little bit of apple.  Woods and walnut.  Maltier than expected.  Is that a touch of smoke?  Maybe.  Somewhat tannic.  Finish is all wood and under-ripe pear.

Thoughts:  This is a summer evening malt, not without some old school charm.  Not great, not bad.  Just…good-ish.

 

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Aberlour a’bunadh (Batch 41) Review

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Aberlour a’bunadh (Batch 41)017

59% abv

Score:  84.5/100

 

Let’s check out another batch of Aberlour a’bunadh.

This whisky is always a pleasure  to revisit.  That’s sorta why we come back to it every few months or so.  Well…that and because many folks out there tend to petition the blogs and such for updates on current batches in order to determine whether they’re up to snuff against previous releases, or if they should wait a few months for the next batch.  On that front, we may as well all share the good word, right?

While I don’t pick up every every release of this cask strength behemoth, I do nab one out of every three or four perhaps.  Let’s face it…these are very much just variations on a narrow theme.  Some a tick or two better…some a tick or two worse.  I’ve yet to run across one that I outright didn’t like, but I will concede that there has been a bit of a rollercoaster ride between shimmeringly beautiful and merely mediocre.

You’d think that would be a complaint, right?  Batch variation is a source of considerable frustration for some.  The thing is…that sort of batch variation is part of what makes a’bunadh so much fun for me.  It kinda reminds me of being a young’un and buying trading cards.  I was always happy with whatever I got when I tore into the foil (or waxed wrapper), but if there happened to be a superstar card or a ‘last piece of the puzzle’ number in there I’d be tickled pink.  A’bunadh can have that same thrill when the cork is popped.  It’s always a bit of a crapshoot.

Once more – though we’ve done this several times by now – a’bunadh is Gaelic for ‘origin’.  As in, this whisky is taken back to it’s old school purest form of origination.  Barrel strength, non-chill filtered, non-colored.   It’s bold.  It’s big.  And it is an instant love for many.  It’s not hard to see why as soon as you nose your first dram.

A final note:  Unlike some out there reviewing spirits for masses, I utterly refuse to believe that packaging or appearance has any place in scoring.  To keep it as honest as possible, all that should ever really count are the flavours and aromas in the glass vessel.  Even so, I have to concede an appreciation for good presentation, and this malt has to be the most aesthetically appealing malt on the market in my humble opinion.  I adore the squat bottle with the red wax seal.

Let’s check out Batch 41…

Nose:  A big fruity, sherry monster, of course.  Cinnamon.  Mincemeat and maraschino.  A touch of mint.  Figgy.  Tobacco in a leather pouch.  Pepper.  Kinda meaty and nutty.  Dry bitter cacao.  Deep dark cherry and jammy fruit notes.  Kinda wine-ier than expected.  Just the faintest afterthought of sulphur (took me a while to be certain that’s what the more astringent characteristic was).  Decent.  Not great.

Palate:  Melted chocolate immediately coats the palate.  Damp woody notes.  Purple fruits, fruit skins and grape jammy flavours.  More chocolate (as if poured over fruits).  Raisin and some figgy dryness.  Finding this one more on the savoury side than the sweet side.  Palate is not up to the challenge of the nose.

Thoughts:  I hate to say it, but…a rather middling batch of one of my favorite young malts.  It doesn’t carry the depths of sweet fruits that have characterized the best of the a’bunadh batches.  In all fairness, though…even average a’bunadh is still a treat.  I’m not sure there is a more ‘go-to’ affordable malt in my house at any given time.  Any night I’m not particularly leaning to one malt or another, I always seem to reach for this one.

 

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Talisker 30 y.o. (2010) Review

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Talisker 30 y.o. (2010)041

57.3% abv

Score:  93/100

 

Let’s look at another sexy old Talisker.  Right up front, this is a beautiful, beefy 30 year old dram from a great distillery, and is one of the best Talisker I’ve ever met.  If you’d prefer not to read a paragraph or two of my felating this whisky, move along and wait for me to eviscerate a cheap blend in the near future.  Otherwise…let’s talk Talisker.

All malts, as they mature, will carry on a bit of a dialogue with the cask in which they sleep.  They’ll interact with the oak, mellowing and shedding their feistier notes, while inheriting a depth of complexity and definition.  I’d argue it’s not so much what they lose, though, as what they gain from the process that is at the forefront.  Let’s face it…much of the volatility of the spirit has already been stripped away by the interaction with the copper in the stills and the careful cut of the spirit run.  After this, it should just be a mellowing process over the years.

But the maturation of peated spirits is a bit of a different story.  It’s not just simply what is gained from the time in oak, but also what is lost.  The distillate that hits the barrel, generally at about 63.5%, is already inbued with that smoky, earthy and sometimes medicinal (depending on locale) flavour we know and love.  As you likely know, in order to be legally labelled as a Scotch whisky, the spirit must mature for a minimum of three years.  With a peated whisky, that three year old would be fiery and smoky as hell.  But leave that juice to percolate for a couple decades and that big smokiness begins to fade off, take a backseat, and let the estery side of the whisky come forward again.  This loss of character, in a way, is paramount to the subtle beauty of mature peated whisky.

Think of it like a set of scales or a see-saw, where in the early days the peat far outweighs the sweet.  Over time the peat loses some weight and the sweet gains a bit, resulting in a bit of a balancing act.  Neat stuff.

All of this is simply a lead-in to what makes this 30 year old Talisker so special.  Not only are we seeing a balancing off of peat against fruits, but also of peppery notes against fruits.  Talisker is reknowned for both its peat and pepper.  Both are bold influences that lose their pomp over time.  And this, my friends…is a great thing.  We love ’em young and full of attitude, but we love ’em even MORE as they gain some maturity.

This Talisker is an incredible old whisky.  One at arguably the apex of its charm.  Simply wonderful. 

Nose:  Soft white fruits.  A heaping helping of peaches.  Fruit cocktail.  Just a hint of strawberry.  Beyond the fruits there are notes of smoke, peat and pepper, of course.  Latex and wax and old book aromas show the age of this one.  More soft fruits.  Clean white fluor-y notes.  Beautiful light spices.  Rather soft and friendly.  Love it.

Palate:  Wow…what a delivery.  All the promises made by the nose are kept by the palate.  Dark cacao and white chocolate bring an initial softness.  Then we move into pepper, ginger and chili.  Citrus and mild licorice notes.  Salty toffee.  Oak and fresh hay.

Thoughts:  Incredible harmony.  One of the top three Talisker I’ve ever met.  It’s amazing that it maintained such a respectable abv after 30 long years. 

 

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Springbank 25 y.o. Review

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Springbank 25 y.o.barry's place pics 025

46% abv

Score:  90/100

 

Any chance to try a rare old Springbank is cause for great excitement in these camps.  Unfortunately, these opportunities don’t come along often, and are getting more and more scarce by the day.  All related to the laws of supply and demand, my friends.  Short supply…high demand…emerging markets…soaring costs.  Sigh.  Such is, unfortunately.  A few years back, finding those extra special whiskies was like shooting fish in a barrel.  Now it’s more akin to hunting the white whale.  You can still find ’em, but it’s much less of a sure bet now. 

Here we have a lovely old Springbank 25 from several years back.  Not one you’re likely to come across often (if at all), but let’s have some fun parsing it to pieces anyway.  What say? 

I recall this one initially underwhelmed me when I first tasted it a couple years back, but on subsequent revisits I can’t imagine what the hell I might have been thinking.  There is one particularly unique note in here that lights me up like a kid at Christmas.  But we’ll come to that shortly. 

Springbank is beloved by the whisky world for a multitude of reasons, but to break it down to what I think are the brass tacks…this is a whisky of great character, singular profile, traditional values and old school charm.  In short…everything Scotch whisky should be is exemplified by this distillery.  It’s no wonder the malt is so highly prized, especially in its more mature offerings.  While you may have to dig deep into the coffers to afford some of these old gems, trust me…they ARE worth it.  This 25 is no exception.   

So…while this may not be my favorite Springbank (I think we’ll save that honour for either the beautiful older 21 or an amazing Signatory 1969), it is still a special dram, and certainly notches above most of the single malts that are hitting the shelves nowadays. 

Here’s hoping there is plenty of stock gaining years in the warehouses in Campbeltown, because Springbank with a few years behind it is a truly an experience. 

Nose:  Smoky.  Kerosene lamp or creosote or something.  I’ve only ever found this note in a couple whiskies, and it is one of those absolute game-changer smells for me.  Love it.  Fresh paint on high quality wood.  Deep oak notes.  Beautiful.  Caramel-drizzled fruits begin to emerge now.  Sprinkling of spices.  Wax.  Bird’s Custard.  Pears, orange and a bit more.  Man, what a unique nose.

Palate:  That same familiar smoky, oaky kerosene note comes through here as well.  (Only ever found this in very old whisky.  Is there something ancient buried in here somewhere?)  Dry old spices.  Something kinda weedy.  Not nearly as pleasant as the nose hints at.  Tart orange pith and rind.  Dries into autumn grasses and green tea.  Slightly tannic.

Thoughts:  Great dram of unlimited personality.  These glorious one-offs are what makes the quest we’re all on for that elusive ‘grail-malt’ worthwhile.  Extra point for the nose.

 

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Talisker 20 y.o. (2002) Review

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Talisker 20 y.o. (2002)049

62% abv

Score:  94/100

 

I’m hard pressed to say whether this or 2012’s spectacular 35 year old is the absolute ‘best of the best’ Talisker I’ve tasted so far.  Either way, this big and bold 20 year old is simply incredible. 

Talisker, as you are likely well aware, is a Diageo distillery of much fame, and deservedly so.  It’s one of a handful of distilleries that boasts an almost immediately recognizable profile.  Its peaty salt and peppery edge allows it to stand out from the crowds, and to serve almost as a gateway malt to the big peated whiskies from fellow Hebridean island Islay. 

This rare and special 20 year old from the Isle of Skye’s one and only distillery is also a stand-out amongst its own Talisker brethren, due to having been matured in sherry casks.  The Talisker you’d expect is definitely captured here as well, but it’s been tweaked a bit to frightening success.  There is such a deep complexity of fruit notes knotted up with the smoke and pepper you’d expect in Talisker that the integrated whole is infinitely more than the sum of its parts.  For some reason I hearken back to the Lagavulin 2010 Distillery Only bottling as the closest approximation of juicy sweetness and deep, dark smokiness.  Different malts, to be sure, but similar in their incredibly succesful marriage of disparate flavours. 

Saying this whisky is unique and compex is not enough, however.  This one is almost ethereally beautiful. 

Before anyone out there gets too excited and starts scouring the local shops, I should note that this is a long-gone dram.  Born in 1981.  Tragically left us in 2002.  Now…much mourned.  This is the kind of dram that comes along only a couple of times in a lifetime (if you’re lucky and have the resources).   

As I said in the first lines above, I can’t decide whether this or the 35 year old is better, so let’s not split hair on scores either.  Call it a draw. 

Nose:  Crème caramel.  Pepper and mocha.  Smoke.  Sweet and syrupy.  Salted caramel.  A neat barbecue note, from the sweetness of the sherry mingling with the peppery peat.  Touch of rubber.  Dark rich fruits (cherry, blackberry, etc) in dark chocolate.  Peaty and smoky.  Some lemon and salt too.

Palate:  Oily and viscous.  Barbecue notes again.  Red ju-jubes.  Charred honey ham skin.  Peat, pepper, smoke and salt.  A lot of vibrant red fruits.  The delivery is like velvet.  There is no way I’d ever peg this as boasting an abv of 62%.  Gorgeous drink with a looooooooong finish.

Thoughts:  Amazing.  Stunning really.  Right in my wheelhouse.  If only this were still readily available.  I’d be doing my utmost to stock up (likely at the expense of my kids’ future university tuitions).  This is a ‘wow’ whisky.

 

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Jameson Irish Whiskey Review

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Jameson Irish Whiskey010

40% abv

Score:  76/100

 

Jameson.  The world’s bestselling Irish whiskey.  By far.  But much as I suspect that many of the folks pushing Glenfiddich to the top of the charts are more the ‘scotch and soda’ crowd than the connoisseurs and collectors, I have a feeling that many of the good people downing Jameson are probably not sitting around sipping this stuff from nosing glasses.  It’s just not a dram of that caliber.  This is more a shotglass kinda drink, I think.  Or maybe best used in Irish Coffee and the like. 

Jameson is a blended Irish whiskey, built from a bit of pot still distillate and – based on the profile – what I assume is a lot of grain spirit.  Apparently there are sherry casks used in maturing some of the spirit that goes into this blend, but I’m hard-pressed to pick up on much of that influence in the final product.  It seems to be more of a concentrated bourbon profile driving this one on than sherry making much of an impression.  Sadly too, I gotta say that the pot still component of this whiskey is simply crushed beneath the heft of the grains and the relatively youthful bite. 

With a bit of time in good barrels this all could all come together nicely, but I honestly don’t believe this whiskey is given even close to enough time in wood to allow its more rambunctious nature to settle down into a well-behaved middle age. 

So…let’s see if we have this straight…1) the component of the whiskey with the most personality is grossly under-represented, to the point of being almost invisible and 2) the overall product tastes young and unripe.  Mmmmmmm.  Recipe for success!

I must admit that I’m a Bushmills guy, first and foremost.  That’s the juice I cut my teeth on.  And even better than the Bush (easy now) is Redbreast.  But hey…there’s enough love in my heart to go ’round.  Or so I thought.

At the end of the day, this isn’t a bad whiskey.  It simply needs to be noted that you get what you pay for.  When you’re picking up a $25 bottle of whiskey, you’re getting a $25 bottle of whiskey.  If you’re looking for a somewhat smoother ride, you gotta go for something a little longer in the teeth and less reliant on neutral spirit to constitute so much of its make-up. 

My advice?  Pour it in a shot glass, toss it back, slam it down, order another.  Rinse, repeat.

Nose:  Not dissimilar to some of the better Canadian whiskies, character-wise.  But with more fruit.  Big oak notes.  Bourbon spices.  Lemon rind.  Custard.  Toasted marshmallow.  Not a lot more.  Smells young, but not feinty.  Still carries an alcohol-nip that would fade with a little more time.

Palate:  Ouch.  Vodka.  The neutral spirit that props this one up must constitute 80% of the mashbill.  This is spirity to be sure.  Green apple.  Oak.  Cinnamon.  A little Cream Of Wheat porridge with brown sugar.  Citrus.  Vanilla extract.  A lot of wood on the finish.

Thoughts:  To be fair…this is a very clean drink, and would mature well.  Older Jameson can be stunning.  Not my thing, but decent, for what it’s worth.  At the end of the day though, I’ll stick with the 1608 distillery.

 

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt