Ardbeg Uigeadail

54.2% abv

Score:  92.5/100

Can you hear the distant rumblings?  Imagine the sky turning the color of bruises and black eyes?

This…this is the fearsome dark storm of Islay.  Its enormity is almost intimidating.  Its might and majesty so beyond the scope we’re used to seeing in such a young and core range bottling.  This is like standing on the shores of Islay while the skies tear open above.  Like being lambasted by gusts of rain and hurricane winds.  And also like feeling grateful simply for having stood so close to the vortex and lived to tell.  This is nature’s fiercest, distilled and decanted.  This is one of the most blindingly original whiskies I have ever tried.

At once sweet, salty and smoky.  A deep sherry influence, while not overburdening, is held in check by dense layers of smoke.  There are notes of chocolate and warm leather carried, no doubt, by the sherried casks.  Tendrils of salted meat and roasting…well…just roasting something.

The smoke, brine and seasoned meat carry to the palate as well, here gaining a sharp little prickle from a thread of anise.  The chariot that delivers this complex amalgamation of all that is Islay (and so much more) is the perfect vehicle at a respectable 54.2% (When will all of the others learn?).

This is a sublimely heavy and brooding dram.  A ‘noir’ whisky, if ever one was made.  Deeper and darker than a Lynch movie, this is a whisky for the most introspective and dark-hearted to mull over in the most forbidding depths of the darkest lounge.

There is simply no doubt about it…this is one of the best whiskies I’ve yet to find.  Spectacular.

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Ardbeg Airigh Nam Beist (2008)

46% abv

Score:  93/100

Airigh Nam Beist, the ‘shelter of the beast’. Named for a legend that suggests something primeval and threatening lies in wait in this dark place (Loch Airigh) high above Ardbeg. This is a whisky that, while still 100% Ardbeg, is miles away from any of the other core expressions. Its delicate creamy complexity has made it the subject of adoration for many. This is closer to the ‘17’ (sadly gone now), though with a wee bit more heft in ABV.

Typical of this distillery’s philosophy, we’re given a whisky in its natural and beautiful naked state. Un-chill-filtered and bottled at a respectable 46% (though I ache inside to think what this could have been if left at cask strength). I suppose however, stocks would have been even more limited in such a case. Sigh.

The Airigh Nam Beist is a delicate and complex Ardbeg. Soft and creamy and rich in fruit. Grapefruit…pear…a touch of orange…keylime pie and firm fresh lemon. Smoke and creamy vanilla dance perfectly in step. A sprinkling of salt and maybe the finest dusting of dill. A drop or two of sherry as well. Restrained for an Ardbeg though of course peat and smoke, no matter how subtly woven throughout, are omnipresent.

Creamy, malty delivery. Smoke and toasted marshmallow. Unassuming brine and the barest hint of chocolate.

Three mentions of the word ‘creamy’ in one review…and an Ardbeg at that…what gives? Utterly true and completely at odds with what logic tells me to expect on this one. A perfect analogy I read (can’t remember where, and certainly can’t take credit) was eating ice cream on the beach. Exactly so!

Sadly, one more for the vaults. This is the latest Ardbeg expression to have its jersey hoisted to the rafters in retirement when it was succeeded (though not replaced) by the Corryvreckan. Though I realize stocks only stretch so far, the irrational sentimentalist in me mourns the loss of this one. The cautions were given early on to stock up, and I, like many others, neglected to heed the word. For the last two years I’ve been on the hunt. Fortunately a couple have fallen into my eager palms (but, man…I’ve paid dearly).

A couple of important notes:

First…this is the only Ardbeg expression to boast an age statement of greater than ten years in the recent range.

And second…distilled in 1990, and bottled from 2006 through 2008, you may run into 16, 17 or 18 year old vintages.

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Ardbeg Blasda

40% abv

Score:  88/100

It’s hard to imagine that anything made by Ardbeg could be considered an underdog.  Interestingly enough however, that is precisely the case with Blasda.  Aggressively marketed as an unpeated Ardbeg (in hopes of broadening the appeal of Islay’s smokiest malt, I imagine), Blasda is Gaelic for ‘sweet and delicious’, so they say.   Okay…can’t disagree so far.  And what do I say?  Well…I think launching a whisky like this took balls (with all due respect Ms. Barrie, I use this term metaphorically).  Legions of adoring peatheads look to Ardbeg as the pinnacle of Islay malts, and rightfully so.  The distillery rarely missteps.

So what happens when a distillery lauded for its bruising heavyweights (often at cask-strength, rarely below 46% abv and never chill-filtered) elects to release a 40%’er?  And…uh…chill-filtered to boot?

Well…backlash.  Lots of it.  Derogatory names such as ‘Ardbeg Light’ were tossed around in the forums and unfair comparisons were made against its elder siblings.  Of course when held up against the others in the core range this one comes up a little short in some of the categories you’d expect an Ardbeg to dominate.  However…stop and listen please…however…this is a damn good whisky.  Make no mistake about it.

The nose…

Unpeated Ardbeg, huh?  Not likely.  Lighter peating…sure…that I’ll buy.  Apparently this is still peated to about 8ppm (higher than Bunna and some ‘Laddie).  First thing to hit the beak is a waft of peat and smoke.  Fairly typical of an Islay dram.  This is much more like a spritely young Caol Ila though, than an Ardbeg.  The citrus here is more lime than lemon.  Keylime pie…crust and all.  This ‘lime-iness’ brings a little extra tartness and some rich green sweet notes.  It is salty (of course) and its youthful ebullience carries a gentle prickle amid creamy waves.  Neat.  Refreshing.

Touches of oak sally forth on the delivery.  I didn’t pick this up on the nose, but it is certainly a prevalent characteristic on the palate.  In logical succession the oak brings some mild vanillins.  Ebbing notes are soft fruit and wood.  The finish is short, but not abrupt.  Pleasant and charming.

I really like this whisky.

Now…I refuse to keep mum on this one…

Dear Ardbeg,

As you know (or should by now) I am adoring fan.  I count myself among the legions hopelessly devoted to you and yours.  As such I feel I am in a position to say this (cause we only hurt the ones we love)…

I will accept an Ardbeg at 40%.  I will also accept an Ardbeg which has been (shudder) chill-filtered.  I will further accept that I have to pay handsomely for that green bottle I so adore.

…but…

I do NOT accept that the price point of a whisky such as this has to be as high as it is.  Sadly I admit…it said Ardbeg on the bottle and I had to have it.

In the future please take this to heart.

Yours forever…

One last thing…regarding that ‘underdog status…never forget…

“Little Davids strike hard and deep.”

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Ardbeg Corryvreckan

57.1% abv

Score:  92.5/100

In a little over two months I’ll be wending my way through the rocky coastlines and esteemed distilleries of Islay.  Like any traveler, I have preconceived notions in my head as to what I’ll see and what I’ll experience.  Also, like any traveler, I know I shouldn’t let my mind do this.  There is no better way to spoil a beautiful trip than with preconceived notions not met.  One of the things I most want to do while on this tiny island is spend my evenings walking the oceanside…bottle in hand…and set down on the rocks or shore to sip whisky and meet the ocean head on.

I can’t imagine a better way to realize this than with a bottle of Ardbeg in hand.  The sun sets over our lone gunslinger (or keyboard jockey) as he forlornly stares the sky down and greets the evening.  Or…y’know…something like that.

I have actually spent a considerable amount of time debating which whisky would most capture the essence of Islay for me.  That is the bottle I want to buy on night one.  Something to nurse through the week.  A big bottle of smoke and peat, briny and massive.  Something as big and bold as the ocean itself.  I think I’ve finally figured it out.

Ardbeg Corryvreckan.

There is something about Ardbeg that resonates with me.  Something deep and dark and mysterious.  The packaging hints at it.  The whisky delivers it.

Corryvreckan is named after the famous whirlpool in Scotland, and the legend that accompanies it.  It is a tale of a brave Scandinavian prince named Breacan, who seeks the hand of a Princess of Jura, the daughter of the Lord of the Isles.  The Lord consents but challenges him, saying that Breacan must show his courage and skill by anchoring his ship for three days and nights in the whirlpool of Corryvreckan.  Breacan, after consulting with the locals, chooses his three ropes.  One rope of wool, one rope of hemp and one rope made from hair of maidens of ‘spotless fame’.  On the first night the woolen rope breaks.  On the second night it is the rope of hemp that gives way.  Finally on the third night the last rope breaks as well.  The story goes that perhaps one of the maidens, whose hair was used to make the rope, was not quite as ‘spotless’ as made out to be.  Alas poor Breacan paid the price for this maiden’s lack of chastity.  I have heard two tales of Breacan’s final resting place.  In one Breacan is said to now lie in the lair of the hag goddess of winter, Cailleach Bheur, beneath Corryvreckan.  In the other Breacan was said to have been dragged ashore by his faithful hound and carried to a cave.  This cave, known fittingly as Breacan’s cave, was excavated years ago, and interestingly…a stone coffin was found.

You pick the ending you like best.

Enough of the background.  Hope I’ve painted enough of a picture for you.  On to the whisky…

Corryvreckan, quite simply, is another Ardbeg masterpiece.  Can this distillery do no wrong?   Big notes of smoke and peat are complimented with citrus zest and salt.  The briny edge is almost burn-your-nose sharp…but in a good way.  I dare you to not be swept away with images of the windswept Scottish coast.  There is a hint of smoked fish and oak.  Black pepper and a burnt coffee and sugar edge.  Spicy…you bet.  You’ll get a bit of fruit too.  Mostly in the finish that lingers with that dry tangy green bite that seems to follow most peated whiskies.

It is oily and thick.  Beautifully so, and deliciously mouth-coating.  The finish echoes on into infinity.  Let this be the whisky that closes your night of dramming.  No other whisky out there could possibly follow this.  Well…maybe the Uigeadail.

Reviewed by:  Curt

Photo:  Curt