Category Archives: Silent Stills

Brora 34 y.o. (2017) Review

2 Replies

It never sucks to drink Brora. You could waterboard me with this stuff and I’d probably be okay with it. Ok…that may have crossed a line. Sorry.

We just reviewed a Clynelish, so how ’bout Brora? Sort of a VW/Audi thing. Or something. Unfortunately, I have less than a dozen bottles of Brora left in the bunker, so unless something drastically changes in the coming years, reviews of this Sutherland beauty are bound to be as scarce as oases in the Sahara. Recently, however, I had occasion to pop the cork on a special bottle to mark a celebration: I promised some mates that if Trump was booted from office I would open a Brora. I also promised myself a mental health break from the political divisiveness that seems be tearing civilization apart and a return to whisky jotting in my spare time. So…here we are.

Brora has a reputation, of course, but Brora also has a complicated personality. Not only are there some nearly impossible ties to unknot between Brora and Clynelish (especially in the earliest years of tandem distillation at the neighboring sites, but also between the more heavily-peated outings and those that are more fruit/wax/caramel-driven. I’ve had both. And both can be utterly dazzling. And, though it won’t put this conversation to bed, it will at least allow us to hit ‘snooze’ for a bit and return to this rather big subject later on. Let’s just say, I have my theories.

This 34 year old is one of the more restrained Broras I’ve yet tried. The nose, especially, is a wee bit shy, but the palate is much more expressive. If you’re chasing big phenols, you’re looking in the wrong place. But at 34 years, you’d be looking in the wrong place no matter which expression you were tasting. There’s a nod to the peatier years here, but it arrives like the fashionably late party goer. Albeit…maybe a bit more well-behaved, when all is said and done.

This release was a part of Diageo’s Annual Releases back in 2017, before they nixed the inclusion of Brora and Port Ellen in those outturns. It was limited to 3,000 bottles. 51.9% abv.

Tasting Notes

Nose: Little peat to speak of. But of course, there’s some wax. A touch of milk chocolate. Orange juice. Warm chamois leather. Incredibly soft fruit mélange. Apple pie (easy on the cinnamon and such). Putty. Even a faint hint of capers. Clay. An unlit Cuban, where the aromas are subtle and pretty.

Palate: Oh, wow. Juicy and mouthwatering. Orange and tangerine right up front. There’s a bit of smokiness come the mid palate, but it arrives with vanilla, melon and much more wax. Some more citrus, mostly lemon. Now we have some peat, by way of a slight earthy funk. A touch of blanched almond.

Finish: Clean and long. Some honeydew melon and deeply herbal notes.

Thoughts: Not sure why this one isn’t held in higher esteem than it is. May take a wee bit more concentration, but peeling back the layers shows just how elegant and layered it is.

Score: 92/100

Coleburn 21 y.o. Rare Malts Review

Leave a reply

Only the second Coleburn review on ATW. Tsk tsk. For shame. It’s almost like some strange factor is limiting access to malts from this Speyside distillery. Hmmm. Oh…right.

For the record, Coleburn was yet another casualty of that devastating extinction event that claimed so many distilleries in the early 1980s. The distillery was a bit of a Frankenstein’s lab throughout a fair chunk of its existence, used mainly for production experimentation, and largely dedicated to providing malt for the Diageo family of blends. Seems a shame in retrospect, as we begin to realize the long term ageing potential the malt had. We say that far too frequently of late, I realize. I also concede we sentimentalize a bit too often as well. Such is.

This 21 was one of the iconic Rare Malts releases that sits in high stead and coveted pride of position for many malt drinkers. And rightfully so, I’d argue. We may see more nuance and subtlety through other ranges (and bottlers), but for pure bombast, it really is hard to pip the Rare Malts.

Coleburn was founded in 1897 and shuttered in 1985. RIP.

59.4% abv. Distilled in 1979, bottles in 2000.

Sincere thanks to my mate Brett Tanaka for the opportunity to taste this. The range of bottles he’s been opening for what we’ll call ‘The Brett Sessions’ are simply beyond comprehension. And I am beyond humbled to be able to partake. I’ll be reviewing dozens of them in the coming weeks/months.

Tasting Notes

Nose: Sour and just slightly cheesy. Sour Ju-jubes and quality eau de vie. Greengage. Orange, apple and cranberry. A wee bit of smoke. White chocolate. Honey. Riesling and green grape skins.

Palate: Oh, wow. Great arrival. Enormous, actually. Malt and rubber. Grapefruit zest (and a bit of pith too). Kinda makes it a bit weedy and bitter. Adds complexity. Rubber bands. Vegetal notes. Crunchie bar. Band-Aids. Reminds a bit of old Ledaig (a ’72 Cadenhead, in particular). Kinda dirty.

Finish: Drying, with firm tannins (though not overly aggressive). Let’s call it a ‘fair’ wood presence at the back end. Somewhat grassy. Some rubber. Vaguely industrial or chemical-y. In a great way.

88.5/100

Millburn 25 y.o. Rare Malts Review

Leave a reply

Lord t’underin’ Jaysus, b’y, what a dram!

And what’s this? Our first Millburn on ATW? Not all that surprising, I suppose. Even our mate Serge Valentin of Whiskyfun fame has only managed to wrap his paws around a couple dozen examples of spirit from this long lost distillery. Fear not, though: I have one more sample in the wings that I’ll try get to soon, while this one is still fresh in my memory. To be fair…these things are nearly as rare as Trump truths. And we all know…well…never mind.

Millburn. The distillery that once was, is no more, but now, according to Brian Townsend’s fantastic book ‘Scotch Missed’, is a steakhouse that goes by the name of ‘The Auld Distillery’. A better fate, he argues (and rightfully so), than that of most lost distilleries in Scotland. Shameless plug for Townsend (which benefits me not at all): buy this book. It’s a brilliant wee read. Probably no more than 200 pages, but crammed with enough knowledge to sate even the fiercest malt historian.

This utterly fantastic expression of 25 year old Millburn came from Diageo’s brilliant Rare Malts line. I came in not knowing what to expect and found myself utterly blown back by this one. If you get a chance, do not hesitate. Though I imagine those chances are pretty damn hard to come by nowadays. At least affordably.

61.9% abv. Distilled in 1975, bottled in 2001.

Sincere thanks to my mate Brett Tanaka for the opportunity to taste this. The range of bottles he’s been opening for what we’ll call ‘The Brett Sessions’ are simply beyond comprehension. And I am beyond humbled to be able to partake. I’ll be reviewing dozens of them in the coming weeks/months.

Tasting Notes

Nose: Fruits and chocolate. Pineapple…fresh, grilled, juiced, whatever! Melted honey. Fruit salad. Sandalwood. Melon, orange and more. Man…so much cool fruitiness! Chocolate covered almonds. A slight earthiness. And a very gnarly yogurt note. Beyond unique. Beyond incredible.

Palate: Oy…a very hot arrival. Chocolate (milk!). Smoke. Cherry and orange. Yogurt covered Fun Fruits (anyone else remember those ’80s lunchbox snacks?). Lindt milk chocolate. Oh, so fruity. Nice toasty malt notes. The wood is singing loud and clear.

Finish: Long and fruity. Goes on a wee bit longer than forever.

Thoughts: Whiskybase has this at 89.40, based on 122 ratings. To clarify…122 people are wrong. Simply unforgettable.

93/100

Pittyvaich 25 y.o. Review

Leave a reply

Not a single tasting note on here for Pittyvaich? Pffft. In fairness, we’ve only had our grubby little paws on three of them locally, but that’s no excuse for delinquency in sharing the word on those we have tried. The goal is, after all, trying to maintain a broad horizontal swath of distillery notes for those who want to hear a bit about all of it. Not to mention…with an expression such as this – the Diageo special release from 2015 – there will undoubtedly be more folks interested than there would be for one of the OMC single casks or something.

Pittyvaich was founded in 1975, and produced for a mere 18 or so years, before being shuttered in 1993 and ultimately razed in 2002. It was a purpose-built distillery, meant to supply malt for the Bells blends. The distillery (and brand) changed hands in the mid-1980s, finding a new home in the ever expansive stables of, you guesses it, Diageo. The distillery (more an addendum to the Dufftown distillery than a true matter-of-fact distillery) somehow managed to fend off the mad rash of early ’80s closures, which sort of suggests that maybe Diageo was unwilling to concede that such a young and probably still immaculate facility should be surrendered less than a decade after what was almost certainly a substantial investment of capital to get it off the ground. By 1993, however, the writing was on the wall for Pittyvaich (and Rosebank, for that matter). The doors closed and stayed closed.

Fast forward a few years and the DRFSR at Diablo HQ saw the windfall potential in feathering out the remaining stocks from another lost distillery to the whisky cognoscenti. Albeit at greatly inflated prices from what this rather innocuous style of malt would have sold for in more sane and sober times. Such is. We whisky history buffs are always going to shell out a bit extra to taste the spirit of a bygone age, aren’t we?

Ultimately, though, this is a so-so malt from what was almost certainly just a so-so distillery. That’s my two cents, anyhow. 131 people on Whiskybase were more generous with their scores than I. Goes to show, this is all just one guy’s opinion, aye?

49.9% abv. Distilled in 1989, bottled in 2015. Refill Bourbon Hogsheads. 5,922 Bottles

Tasting Notes

Nose: Immediately one to only fall ‘in like’ with. Damp hay, with some notes of green tea. Herbaceous. Popcorn. Bittersweet chocolate. Clean malt. White flour and cereal tones. Some soft, almost unidentifiable fruits. Heavy cream on popsicles. Cedar.

Palate: Wine gums. Rather firm oak. Some odd sort of dental note (reminds of being in a dental clinic). More of those tea notes. Vanilla. Chardonnay. Ginger and white pepper. Grape skin tannins. Somewhat drying.

Finish: A little tired and lazy, if I’m being honest. A bit flat with no real standout notes that carry on.

Thoughts: I like it just fine, but wouldn’t go so far as to say I love it.

83/100

Glen Albyn 26 y.o. Rare Malts Review

Leave a reply

Oh, man. What a spectacular surprise. This Rare Malts Glen Albyn was tasted as part of a spectacular range of expressions from closed distilleries and, I can’t lie, it wasn’t even remotely on my radar as one of the ones to look out for. It ended up being one of my favorites of the night.

Glen Albyn has become as scarce as sober uncles at backwoods barbecues these days. This is largely due to the fact that the distillery never really enjoyed much in the way of prestige and, in fact, there have only ever been a couple of official bottlings released. When you then consider the distillery was made redundant in 1983 as part of Diageo’s clean-up and downsizing, well…it’s not to hard to see why we’ve only had our hands on a few releases.

And if I’m being honest? This is the only one that has wowed me.

54.8% abv. Distilled in 1975, bottled in 2002. 6,000 bottles.

Sincere thanks to my mate Brett Tanaka for the opportunity to taste this. The range of bottles he’s been opening for what we’ll call ‘The Brett Sessions’ are simply beyond comprehension. And I am beyond humbled to be able to partake. I’ll be reviewing dozens of them in the coming weeks/months.

Tasting Notes

Nose: Smoke and char. Awww, hell yeah. This is right in my wheelhouse. Tangy fruit. Some great lime notes. Ammonia. Mocha. Savoury BBQ notes. Jolly Ranchers. More chocolate. Coal smoke. Some sort of insect repellent. A hint of Old Spice (yup…that Old Spice). Hardwood glue. Burnt plastic. Indian rubber ball. Mineral notes. Grilled tomato. Almost a grilled cheese (or cheese toastie) sort of funk. Brilliantly integrated, despite the disparate list of aromas.

Palate: Kerosene and burning leaves. Pepper. Bitter chocolate. Really fuel-ish, in such a profoundly cool way. An absolutely ancient style of malt. Melon rind. grapefruit and tangerine.

Finish: Kinda drying, actually. And bitters out a but in the end (grapefruit-like). All pleasant. And very long.

Thoughts: Splendid. Keen. Neato. Love it.

92.5/100

Inverleven 30 y.o. 1967 Cask No. 3824 (The Bottlers) Review

Leave a reply

Perhaps the most nomadic pot stills in the UK. Inverleven was a malt distillery secreted amidst the complexities of the Dumbarton grain complex in the Lowlands, just a hop, skip and a jump from both Glasgow and the Highlands ‘border’. It fell silent in depressive early ’80s, was mothballed in 1985, and finally decommissioned for good in 1991.

When the clever (and frugal!) folks at Bruichladdich learned of the distillery’s pending demolition, they sent a team – spearheaded by engineering specialist extraordinaire, Duncan MacGillivray – to loot the distillery of anything worth taking. That turned out to be nearly everything. Including the both wash and spirit stills, along with an old Lomond still. It took a canny sense of what was and wasn’t possible (in fact, they knocked out a wall to get at the goods!), but in the end, Team Teal made off like ruddy bandits. The Lomond is now pumping out the Botanist gin. The wash still ended up sitting courtyard, behind the iconic ‘Laddie barrels, as nothing more than decorative display. The spirit still went into storage.

After the Remy takeover of Bruichladdich, and subsequent ousting of (re)founder Mark Reynier, the stills eventually made their way over to Ireland, where they are now bubbling away the beer and low wine at Mark’s latest endeavor: Waterford.

Whew. Moving on.

I don’t know much about The Bottlers (or TB, as they’re also known), but if you check ’em out on Whiskybase, they have a heck of a run of bottlings, almost all scoring very high. And some incredibly cool distilleries too.

And Inverleven itself? Well…the malt is scarce, though not unattainable. I’ve only ever tasted two or three, myself, but they were good. And I will hunt more.

53.2% abv. Distilled in 1967, bottled in 1997.

Sincere thanks to my mate Brett Tanaka for the opportunity to taste this. The range of bottles he’s been opening for what we’ll call ‘The Brett Sessions’ are simply beyond comprehension. And I am beyond humbled to be able to partake. I’ll be reviewing dozens of them in the coming weeks/months.

Tasting Notes

Nose: Spicy and citric. Slightly stew-y. Salty pastry dough. Some salted dark chocolate. A vague smokiness woven throughout. Notes of orange and orange juice. And a decently robust malt profile.

Palate: Hot and a little sharper than expected. Smoky and carrying a bit of a rubber note. Almost…but maybe not quite…acrid. Strong orange zest. Dark chocolate. Something like Terry’s Chocolate Oranges. And…for my Canuck friends…sour cream Timbits.

Finish: Smoky, with that stew note again. Toasted oak. Fruit skins with some dryness.

Thoughts: No gamechanger, but a very cool dram nevertheless.

87/100

Ben Wyvis 1968 31 y.o. Cask #686 (Signatory) Review

Leave a reply

Some malts leave you at once speechless and tripping over your tongue. You know…the ones where you find yourself gobsmacked simply at the opportunity to try them (yes…fortunately that does still happen, even this deep into the game) and stuttering to make sense of what you’re tasting. This Ben Wyvis is just such a one.

The distillery was one of the shorter lived in Scotland, shuttering with resounding finality in 1977 after a mere dozen years of production. Releases are nearly non-existent, somewhat controversial (a misleading offering by Invergordon under the Ben Wyvis name), and not particularly held in the highest of esteem. None of which matters, though. These sorts of drams are the reason Scotch whisky has stoked the fire in my belly for all these long years.

I think it goes without saying that this is a piece of liquid history. And if you’re not in the know…the Ben Wyvis stills (and much of the other equipment) were scooped up by Hedley Wright for a song and carted off to Campbeltown to be used in the rebirth of the Glengyle distillery. You know that funky and delicious young Kilkerran you love? Yep…that spirit bubbled away in the Ben Wyvis stills.

50.1% abv. 84 bottles. Distilled in 1968 and bottled in 2000.

Sincere thanks to my mate Brett Tanaka for the opportunity to taste this. The range of bottles he’s been opening for what we’ll call ‘The Brett Sessions’ are simply beyond comprehension. And I am beyond humbled to be able to partake. I’ll be reviewing dozens of them in the coming weeks/months.

Tasting Notes

Nose: Antique-y, in a way. Or at least a near-extinct style of malt. Char and dunnage. A decently lively cask. Some tangy fruits. Also some strangely spiced fruits. Old books and a spice cabinet long neglected and gone to stale and fading. A bit of an odd funk that’s stubborn and elusive when it comes to tasting notes. Vegetal, maybe? Sticky candied walnuts. A slight licorice-y note in there too. Buried in there are some rather neat fruit tones too.

Palate: Plum (neat!). Some smoke and a bit of cask char (is it maybe lightly peated?) Black current. Burnt pastry. Pepper and ginger. Under ripe guava. Someone mentioned dirty water or something of that ilk.

Finish: Gristy. Quite long. A bit tannic.

Thoughts: Quite difficult to unravel, actually. Or maybe it’s just that the notes are some that I either can’t pinpoint or haven’t yet met. Either way…no masterpiece, to be sure, but one fuck of a cool malt to try. I may be overscoring a tick. But maybe not. I really don’t know.

85/100 (ish)

Rosebank 20 y.o. Rare Malts Review

Leave a reply

How ’bout some Rosebank? I’ve been delinquent here when it comes to arguably the most iconic of Lowland single malts. In fact, I think there are only two reviews posted thus far. Fear not. I have a few more to come.

Diageo’s Rare Malts series is held in very high esteem. Rightfully so. The distilleries represented are revered and coveted, and the expressions themselves are, generally speaking, near-forms in terms of representing their respective brands. Not only that…they’re also offered up about as naked and natural as can be, and at blindingly high abvs. This Rosebank was tasted as the last malt in a ridiculous closed distillery tasting and was big enough to cut through all that came before. Not bad for a triple distilled Lowlander, aye?

62.3% abv.

Sincere thanks to my mate Brett Tanaka for the opportunity to taste this. The range of bottles he’s been opening for what we’ll call ‘The Brett Sessions’ are simply beyond comprehension. And I am beyond humbled to be able to partake. I’ll be reviewing dozens of them in the coming weeks/months.

Tasting Notes

Nose: White chocolate. Lemon. More lemon. And some more lemon. Orange. Furniture polish. Slightly floral. This could maybe be a light style of malt if it weren’t for the blistering abv. Herbal. Some cinnamon and dry dunnage-y notes. Fresh cut apples, drizzled in lemon juice. A little boozy.

Palate: Huge! Bigger than that even. Lemon again, as we’d expect. Prickly. Wood spice. Ginger and apple. Oily vanilla bean. A touch of potpourri. Good firm oak; very clean. Chocolate, both white and milk.

Finish: What a clean, long and beautiful finish. Ends on citrus peel and tongue depressers. Maybe a wee bit of apple.

Thoughts: One of my all time favorite Rosebanks. A beauty in all its facets. This is the reason for Rosebank’s reputation.

91.5/100

Brora 35 y.o. 2014 Review

Leave a reply

For all our access to rare drams, unique bottlings and bespoke casks, there’s one glaring shortfall in Alberta’s access to whisky: Brora. I literally can’t think of more than ten or twelve expressions that have hit our shelves. We’ve landed a few of the Diageo Annual Releases, a DL O&R Platinum 30 y.o., and maybe a G&M or two. I know we should be grateful for what we do get, but when it’s your favorite distillery that can be a hard pill to swallow. Enough whining. Moving on.

This is quintessential Brora. I know other vintages are more coveted, but that doesn’t necessarily lesson the impact of stunners like this 1978. It has all the hallmarks of what makes the distillery monolithically iconic, but it’s also all very much more subdued than I expected. Is that the vintage? Or the age? Who knows? And who cares, actually? The reality is…this is a beauty and I want more.

And did I mention that this is birth year Brora for me? 😉

48.6% abv. Sadly, only 2,964 Bottles.

And once again…sincere thanks to my mate Brett Tanaka for the opportunity to taste this. The range of bottles he’s been opening for what we’ll call ‘The Brett Sessions’ are simply beyond comprehension. And I am beyond humbled to be able to partake. I’ll be reviewing dozens of them in the coming weeks/months.

Tasting Notes

Nose: Peat and that celestial Brora waxiness. Somewhere between spent candles and honeycomb here. Green tea. Gorgeous peach tones. Salty dough and a bit of minerality. Slightly oceanic, actually. Some orange. Some melon. Some very soft, creamy pineapple. And still more fruit. Chamois leather. Soft smoke. Peach pie and peach tea. Old candy. Stunning really.

Palate: More of that peach. Smoke and wax carry all the way through, as we’d expect with good Brora. Rather coastal. Seashells. A bit of chocolate. Perfect pastry. Honey again. Putty and clay. Just vaguely floral. Some orange fruit notes. Rich, rounded and oily.

Finish: Exceptional long slow ebb (that’s the beauty of such a heavily oily dram!). Earthy and slightly smoky. Thankfully that peach note lingers too.

Thoughts: Absolutely beautiful, but we knew this one would be, even before we cracked it open. Reputation casts a long shadow.

93/100


Port Ellen 28 y.o. (Douglas Laing Old & Rare Platinum) Review

2 Replies

Alright. Let’s us start off 2020 with a bang, yeah? How ’bout a sassy lil indie Port Ellen weighing in just a couple years short of a full three decades?

This one was tasted in a spectacular range of eight different expressions of Port Ellen, including six of the Platinum series from Douglas Laing. The whole range was provided by our mate, Maltmonster, under the guise of ensuring that the whiskies were tasted before those horrible wax seals failed and the malts were compromised. Uh…sure. Let’s go with that. The event itself was a tag team affair between MM and another mate or two. And on behalf of those select attendees privileged enough to attend…all I can say is that we were humbled and grateful to be invited.

While the event was some time ago now, I do still have a few sma’ samples put aside for future reviews. In other words…we’re not done talking Port Ellen. Not by a long shot.

I know some of you love these Port Ellen porn reviews, while others simply roll their eyes. Hopefully there’s more value in archiving notes for these old gems than not, though.

This particular expression – a big, bold 28 year old matured in sherry – is a real cracker. Though I prefer PE in ex-bourbon, these outliers are a real treat from time to time.

54.6% abv. 227 Bottles.

Tasting Notes

Nose: Big sherry notes masking most of the PE-ness. Tar and smoke, of course (else this wouldn’t really be a Port Ellen, would it?). Chocolate. oiled leather. Menthol drops. Cold coffee. Caramelized bark of a perfectly cooked ham. Savoury, smoky and rather brisket-y as well. Some notes of aloe. Licorice All Sorts. Fruit leather. Under-steeped Lapsang Souchong tea. Polished Wood.

Palate: More immediate licorice now. A nice smokiness, neither huge nor one-dimensional. Dried fruit and jammy notes. Raspberry and balsamic. Charred ham again. Black current (real and of the mentholated cough drop variety). Smoked tea again. Some underlying shy notes. And green apple.

Finish: Quite drying (there’s the tannicity from the sherry, I suppose). Fruit skins. Strawberry and raspberry, but…in a reduced form. Long and lovely.

Thoughts: In a way, this is almost not identifiable as a Port Ellen. Strange mash-up of coastal Islay charm and big wet fruitiness. A little bit of a sherried Bowmore-esque quality as well.

89/100