Thursday, December 31, 2020

Memorable Pours of 2020 - Jack Daniel's Single Barrel Barrel Proof


Straight away, one assumption is very safe to make about this post - there will be no complaining about low bottling proof. Just as the name Jack Daniel's Single Barrel Barrel Proof  leaves one linguistically satiated, the bottling proof does the same in terms of ethanol punch. Only two other whiskeys in the stash compete with this Jack in the potency department, both bourbons - Jim Beam's Booker's and Heaven Hill's Elijah Craig Barrel Proof - each of which often topping 65%+ ABV. While both are delicious, this Jack is entirely unique to its Kentucky siblings and as such is frequently my pour of choice when I settle in after dinner most nights.

I first sampled Jack Daniel's Single Barrel Barrel Proof in month 10 of our whiskey group's year-long tasting extravaganza. I was an immediate fan, but fully admit that this whiskey, for me, is impossible to enjoy neat. I must add water, sometimes a lot of water. Elusively, that quantity of water is often different - some nights it is a tablespoon, other nights upwards of half an ounce, but when I find the 'perfect' dilution, whoa momma, does this whiskey come alive. This is potentially controversial, particularly in some bourbon-biased areas of the Internet, but when I find that dilution sweet-spot in a pour of Jack Daniel's Single Barrel Barrel Proof, the experience not only rivals, but exceeds that of virtually all super-premium, nearly-impossible-to-find bourbons that are out there; to my tastes at least.

One downside to be aware of however, as the verbose name indicates, this is a single barrel product. A bottle you really enjoy may or may not be equaled by the next bottle you purchase (assuming it came from a different barrel of course). Thus far, I've enjoyed four bottles, each from a different barrel. While all four were fantastic, there was one that really stood out. Since I did not keep a sample of that star barrel, who's to say how trustworthy my nostalgia is. To combat nostalgia, beginning in 2019, if a single barrel product really curls my toes, I immediately transfer four ounces of it into a smaller bottle to keep archived away for future reference. Full disclosure - not all of those toe curling whiskeys remained so as I revisited them at later dates, almost certainly due to a disproportionate romanticization of them initially.

As for Jack's specifics, as I said in my initial impressions back in 2018, the barrel proof version is radically different than Old No. 7. This is a dense, mouth-filling whiskey. Caramel, charred oak and vanilla are certainly present, but so too is an amazing cooked corn, think corn pudding or creamed corn combined with the smell of sugar being torched atop a crème brûlée. For Jack purists out there, the hallmark smell and taste of banana is indeed there, but I'd say it takes a back seat to the corn, vanilla, and oak.

Throughout the bulk of 2020, my much better half and I typically spent late afternoons on weekends and holidays lounging in our home cocktail lounge (formerly known as a Florida room). Affectionately called the Snaggletooth Lounge (long story, perhaps another time), filled with Tiki and cocktail memorabilia, we'd sip away the final hours of the Sun's time with us for a given day. After a round (or two) of cocktails, I'd typically go grab a bottle of the good stuff, and pour an ounce to sit and contemplate life with. One such night, I poured a bit of the Jack and upon smelling the glass, my better half grew wildly enthusiastic. I took a sniff, and sure enough, she was right - there was a symphony wafting up from the glass. It smelled sweet, smokey, savory, complex, bold, but not obnoxious and certainly not harsh. She summarized it best - 'this smells like a world-class whiskey that is not here to waste anyone's time '. Oh how I agree.

Happy New Year!

Jack Daniel's Single Barrel Barrel Proof
Classification: Tennessee Whiskey
Country: United States of America
Region: Tennessee (Lynchburg: 35.285N, -86.368W)
Mash Bill: 80% Corn, 8% Rye, 12% Malted Barley
Strength: Varies by barrel, ~60-68% ABV (120-136° Proof)
Color: Natural Color
Filtration: Non-Chill Filtered
Maturation: Unknown Age (thought to be 6-8 years) in 100% New Charred Oak
Price: $64.99 (Most Bottle Shops)

Sunday, December 27, 2020

Memorable Pours of 2020 - Woodford Reserve



Well 2020 was certainly a year. I'll leave the superlative recaps of the year to other commentaries, but I do hope all have coped as well as can be expected in what was a remarkable year. As for me, while our extracurricular activities were greatly curbed, there was still a fair amount of hooch consumed in the household. Over the course of the following week or two, I'll post some quick blurbs on some of the pours that stuck out for me over the course of the year. 

I'll open with what some might consider an unlikely standout, but throughout the year, this seemingly 'ordinary' bourbon consistently reminded me that being rare and/or expensive guarantees hype, but not quality. If you were to scour many of the whiskey-centric corners of the Internet, you'd discover that Woodford Reserve is unlikely to garner any significant hype. Perhaps a victim of its early success being regarded as a 'boutique' bourbon or perhaps being widely available wherever spirits are sold, Woodford tends not to wake up the echoes of the whiskey enthusiast world. Owned and produced by Brown Forman, Woodford Reserve was first helmed by master distiller Lincoln Henderson who sought to create a bourbon that satisfied all tastes and had no emphasis in any one area. Woodford Reserve's website proudly shows a flavor wheel that highlights their bourbon touching every area of the wheel, with no single attribute dominating the experience.

It had been some time since I had a pour of Woodford, the bottle sitting in a distant, infrequently visited corner of the whiskey stash. But then the quarantine-centric days of the summer inspired a bout of cleaning and organizing which brought the bottle of Woodford out of hiding and into the glass. Sip after sip left me rather amazed at how tasty the bourbon was. Intrigued, I decided to taste Woodford alongside a handful of other favorite bourbons to determine if my enjoyment of Woodford was due to absence making the heart grow fonder or if Woodford really was bringing a gun to a knife fight. Time and again, I kept coming back to the Woodford - it really held its own against the competition for me. Side note: a silver lining to the quarantine was eliminating the need to drive anywhere which simultaneously opened up plenty of time to sample hooch.

Bottled at 45.2% ABV, Woodford is easily enjoyable neat, in fact, I don't even bother adding water. To me, Woodford sips perfectly just as it pours from the bottle. One secret to Woodford's success, to my palate at least, is just how well it tames the charred oak and wood astringency that is found in a lot of bourbons. The oak is really well controlled, which allows so many other flavors to emerge from the glass. All the classic bourbon hallmarks are there - brown sugar, caramel, vanilla. But there is so much more - oranges, cocoa powder, dried fruits (apple, raisins, apricots), and baking spices (clove and cinnamon).

Because nothing in life is perfect, Woodford does have a handful of shortcomings for me. Foremost, the finish is a tad too short. I would describe the finish as medium in length, it lingers for a bit, but oh how I would love it to linger longer. The second criticism is probably related to the first - the bottling strength. 45.2% ABV is good, but I'd personally prefer an even 50% bottling strength. While 45.2% ABV is perfect for sipping neat, the downside is there is not much room to play with when using in any application that will dilute the whiskey. A bit more proof would ensure robustness in cocktails and allow neat drinkers to adjust how they see fit. In recent years, Woodford has produced a 'batch proof' version of their bourbon bottled undiluted (typically in the 60 - 65% ABV range) which has earned heaps of praise on the Internet, but sadly, I've never sampled the batch proof personally. Perhaps one day...

Woodford Reserve
Classification: Straight Bourbon Whiskey
Country: United States of America
Region: Kentucky (Versailles: 38.125°N -84.854°W)
Mash Bill: 72% Corn, 18% Rye, 10% Malted Barley
Strength: 45.2% ABV (90.4° Proof)
Color: Natural Color
Filtration: Non-chill Filtered
Maturation: Unknown age in 100% new charred oak
Price: $29.99 (pretty much everywhere spirits are sold)

A few final footnotes for Woodford - The Woodford Reserve Distillery uses only traditional copper pot stills rather than the more-common column stills used at most bourbon distilleries. The finished bourbon however is actually a combination of this pot-distilled whiskey and column-distilled whiskey from Brown Forman's Old Forester/Early Times distillery in Shively, Kentucky. If you ever happen to be remotely close to Versailles, Kentucky it is absolutely worth the time and effort to visit Woodford Reserve. They offer a number of different tours, each easily worth the price of admission, and the grounds are truly spectacular.

Saturday, December 26, 2020

The Brooding Manhattan

Keeping up with the previous posts's theme, I return this holiday weekend with yet another concoction I first had at a Disney property. Located adjacent to Disney's Boardwalk Resort, the AbracadabraBar is a small space themed after a 1920s speakeasy, a favorite haunt of the magicians that work the boardwalk's various venues... or so the Disney story goes. While the theming story is a bit of Disney magic, the actual space is indeed well worth a visit - intricate and interesting decor in a fairly small space. The cocktail menu, in keeping with the theme, features many brown-liquor based cocktails - negronis, side cars, whiskey sours, and manhattans.

It was here at AbracadabraBar that I was introduced to a cocktail I'd never heard of - the black manhattan. After enjoying one (or three) on that trip, I returned home inspired to master the drink myself. 

Most, but not all, Manhattan recipes (black or not) call for rye, but I've found bourbon works to my tastes in this drink a tad better than rye. The next variable is the amaro - there is no standard amaro and in fact I am led to believe that the variance among amaros is quite high. Thus far I've used Montenegro Amaro with good results, but as soon as that bottle is finished, I'll be trying other amaros out of sheer curiosity.

Below I've listed two different proportions for a black manhattan that I came across on the Internet. The first is a 3:1 bourbon:amaro ratio, the second is a 2:1 ratio. Because I enjoy the herbal bitterness that the amaro brings to the drink, I tend to stick with the 2:1 version. If however that does not sound to your liking, give the 3:1 a whirl.

Ingredients
1.5 ounces (3:1 ratio) - 2 ounces (2:1 ratio) bourbon
0.5 ounces (3:1 ratio) - 1 ounces (2:1 ratio) amaro
2 dashes Angostura bitters
2 dashes orange bitters
Cocktail Cherry Syrup as desired

Composition
Because I garnish this drink with Luxardo cherries, I typically prep the garnish first and then put a small amount (~1/2 teaspoon) of the cherry syrup in the bottom of the cocktail shaker. Add all ingredients to the shaker, stir and taste. Adjust to your preference in terms of sweetness, booze, bitters, etc. 

Once the drink tickles your fancy, add ice to the shaker and stir until well chilled. Strain into your preferred glass. Here I deviate from tradition and serve in a double old fashioned glass with a large chunk of ice. Garnish with cocktail cherries.

Cheers to the holiday weekend(s) conclusion to 2020 - a truly remarkable year...



Tuesday, November 17, 2020

An Apple a Day

In the time before COVID, my much-better-half and I would routinely spend a weekend afternoon meandering around Disney Springs. The lap would start at Rick Bayless's Frontera Cocina for lunch and concoctions of an agave nature. Following lunch would be the traditional attempt to secure a Gideon's Bakehouse cookie, something that we had a ~50% success rate through the years as the sole place to procure the said cookie was the Polite Pig BBQ restaurant. So popular were these cookies, that staff at the Polite Pig took to randomly putting out trays of the cookies sporadically through the day as well as strictly limiting sales - one cookie per person. Despite these measures, the cookies routinely sold out within an hour of being displayed. Happily, I've read that Gideon's Bakehouse is opening a dedicated store for their baked goods at the Springs in the near future which should address the short supply of the cookies nicely.

Following the cookie hunt, but before concluding our day with the traditional late-afternoon dinner at Morimoto Asia, we always found ourselves swinging by both Raglan Road Irish Pub and Jock Lindsey's Hanger Bar for more libations, particularly their seasonal offerings. One such offering in the fall at Raglan Road was called Samhain Sangria - a punch made with Jameson's Black Barrel Irish whisky, apple cider, sauvignon blanc white wine, cinnamon syrup, and seltzer water. On paper, an interesting combination and one that I was reminded of when I saw the first jugs of apple cider appear in my local grocery store's cooler recently.

The cider sighting inspired a desire to not only reverse engineer the sangria, but to also devise a bourbon-based cider-cinnamon cocktail. After numerous weekends of trial and error, tinkering and sipping, I am proud to present not one, but two Fall-inspired libations. Quarantine does indeed provide ample time for self-improvement

Because both require a cinnamon syrup, let's start there. Thanks to the power of the Internet, I stumbled across a recipe that I felt worked well from Mr. Donkey Sauce himself (halved for my purposes):

Cinnamon Syrup
Ingredients
  • 1 cup of water
  • 2 cinnamon sticks
  • 3/4 cup of sugar
Composition
Place the water and cinnamon sticks in a saucepan and bring the water to a boil. Simmer for 10 minutes. After 10 minutes, remove the cinnamon sticks and stir in sugar. Continue to stir until sugar is fully dissolved. Allow to cool before using and strain as needed.

Now onto the drinks, first up Raglan Road's Samhain Sangria. Note, I only have the ingredient list of this drink from the restaurant's menu. The proportions you see below are to our tastes and most reminiscent of how we remembered the drink tasting. A happy consequence of this recipe was the discovery of Jameson's Black Barrel whiskey. Initially I purchased this whiskey because Raglan Road specifically calls for it, but after tasting a few pours of the whiskey neat, I am happy to report that I found the product quite tasty. Yes, it is still a 40% ABV blended Irish whiskey, so it will not be competing with a Redbreast, but it is an order of magnitude step-up from the standard Jameson's in terms of character and depth; a whiskey that is wonderful in cocktails but is also not entirely out of place in a snifter.

Samhain Sangria
Ingredients
  • 2.0 oz Jameson Black Barrel Irish Whiskey
  • 3.0 oz sauvignon blanc
  • 2.0 oz apple cider
  • 0.5 oz cinnamon syrup
  • seltzer (one to two ounces)
  • fresh cranberries, apple and orange - for garnish (optional)
Composition
In a cocktail shaker combine the whisky, wine, cider, and syrup. Add ice to shaker and stir well. You can pop the top on and shake as well, but I found the drink was better without any froth, so I preferred the stirring. Strain the shaker into an ice-filled glass of choice and top with seltzer, at least an ounce, but two is twice as nice.

Next up, the bourbon-based cider cocktail that I have been enjoying lately. I have yet to settle on a specific name for the drink, it has been called Quarantine Quencher, Falling into Self-Isolation, and the woefully uninspired Bourbon Cider; feel free to call it whatever you please.

Bourbon Cider
Ingredients
  • 2.0 oz Bourbon whiskey
  • 2.0 oz apple cider
  • 0.75 oz fresh lemon juice
  • 0.5 oz cinnamon syrup
  • 4 dashes orange bitters
Composition
In a cocktail shaker combine all the ingredients, stir and taste. Adjust the balance of the drink to your tastes, personally I liked a bit more lemon acidity than sugar sweetness. Also, the orange bitters can help cut the sweetness and introduce a lovely herbal citrus vibe, so feel free to add more or less to taste. Once the drink tickles your fancy, add ice to the shaker and stir well. Strain into a glass containing fresh ice and enjoy.

Bourbon Cider with a #SpoilerAlert for an upcoming post


Thursday, October 15, 2020

Spontaneous Writeup - Lagavulin 9-Year




Lagavulin 9 Year (Game of Thrones House Lannister)
Classification: Single Malt Whisky
Country: Scotland
Region: Islay (Islay: 55.636°N -6.126°W)
Mash Bill: 100% Malted Barley
Strength: 46.0% ABV (92.0° Proof)
Color: Unknown (suspect artificial coloring)
Filtration: Unknown (suspect chill-filtration)
Maturation: 9 Years in ex-bourbon barrels
Price: $29.99 (Lueken's Liquors)

Well well well, the bargains keep coming. First the Scapa 10 year for $32.00 and now this. Originally released to huge fanfare in the build-up to the final season of Game of Thrones, Diageo flexed its Scotch whisky portfolio depth by releasing a different malt for each of the show's major factions:

House Stark - Dalwhinnie Winter’s Frost
House Tully - Singleton of Glendullan Select
House Targaryen - Cardhu Gold Reserve
House Lannister - Lagavulin 9 Year Old
House Greyjoy - Talisker Select Reserve
House Baratheon - Royal Lochnagar 12 Year Old
House Tyrell - Clynelish Reserve
The Night’s Watch - Oban Bay Reserve

I am rather curious about the supply of these Game of Thrones whiskies, at least in my neck of the woods. In late 2018 through early 2019, store shelves were bombarded with the malts. Hailed as a one-time release, it was not surprising that as stores sold their stock, the shelves were not replenished. By the fall of 2019, most stores had cleared their inventory and life moved on. Then, suddenly and with no explanation, the Game of Thrones whiskies began popping back up in my local stores in the summer of 2020. Offering pure speculation, I'd say this was not due to Diageo releasing a second wave, rather it was distributors and/or the stores themselves holding back some of their stock on the off-chance the malts became 'collectible'. When the champagne wishes and caviar dreams of collectibility didn't pan out, the storage rooms were cleared out and the shelves repopulated (again, this is pure opinion and speculation).

Many of the Game of Thrones releases were well received by the various whisky critics, blogs, vlogs, and InstaTubers. Fans of Lagavulin particularly enjoyed this 9-year expression as it offered an interesting comparison to the distillery's standard 16-year version. Of the eight entries in the series, I personally found all but the Talisker version quite easy to come by and noticed prices remained stable through their initial run and into their reemergence this summer. This meant the Lagavulin's debut price in the $80ish dollar range remained consistent and a bit too rich for my blood. For me, I found it impossible to justify the $80 purchase of a 9-year old Islay malt when I typically score a bottle of 10-year Ardbeg for $50. Recently however, things changed drastically when a local retailer marked their remaining bottles of House Stark and House Lannister down to clearance prices. With the Lagavulin marked down to $30, resistance was futile, there was simply no reason not to bring this malt home. Impression time.

Nose
Peat, peat, peat. Once the nose acclimates to the peat, other aromas emerge - spearmint, vanilla, green apple.

Taste
Well the nose didn't lie - peat, peat and more peat. Not exactly shocking as one would expect peat to be front and center in a whisky from an Islay distillery. This is a damp campfire vibe in terms of smoke. Mild black pepper, a bit of salt/brine, gentle caramel sweetness. On occasional sips, a taste entirely reminiscent of peanut butter. There is a surprisingly dense/oily texture to this whisky; for perhaps misguided reasons, I was expecting this whisky to be severely filtered and stripped of a lot of its texture.

Finish
Medium to long. Unsurprisingly the peat continues, but the damp campfire transforms to a dry, smokey campfire. Zero astringency and near-zero tannic drying. Gentle sweetness accompanies the smoke. A subtle pine needle vibe as well. Slight bitterness on the tail-end of the finish, certainly not the dominant note, but it is present.

Overall
Simply impossible not to recommend at $30 for fans of Lagavulin or peated Islay malts. I'd go as far as to say this Lagavulin is worth picking up at a price-point in the $50-$60 range. To my tastes, the malt needed a few splashes of water to help tame a bit of alcohol prickle. The addition of water has no impact on the peat level, but it does open up some interesting fruit and spice notes.

Back in January of this year, I tasted both of Lagavulin's neighbors in a side-by-side comparison. It would be a dereliction of duty not to repeat that tasting, this time with the 9-year old Lagavulin joining the party. Look for that in the coming winter months.... (did I just imply winter is coming??) 

Tuesday, October 6, 2020

Scapa 10 Year - An Impromptu Tasting



Scapa 10-Year (Gordon & MacPhail)
Classification: Single Malt Whisky
Country: Scotland
Region: Highlands (Orkney: 58.964°N -2.985°W)
Mash Bill: 100% Malted Barley
Strength: 43.0% ABV (86.0° Proof)
Color: Natural Color
Filtration: Non-chill filtered
Maturation: 10 Years in unknown casks
Price: $32.00 (ABC Fine Wine & Spirits)

tl;dr summary - A thoroughly enjoyable malt whose positive impression might have been exaggerated by the low expectations I entered the experience with. Fruit, gentle oak, pepper spice, and an unexpectedly long and enjoyable finish from a whisky whose proof would have you expecting the exact opposite. A malt that holds its own with others at its retail price point, but exponentially outperforms at its clearance-sale price point.

In a previous professional lifetime, I spent a significant chunk of time in the great northern state of Alaska. Due to the nature of the work, my colleagues and I were dispatched to distant corners of that wild state for long stretches of time, each trip typically lasting three to six weeks. While Anchorage is certainly a modern city by any measure, it only served as a layover point for our travels - a place where the large 757 or 767s that shepherded us from the 'Lower 48' deposited us and where the small Dash-8s then whisked us off to our remote final destinations.

A colleague and dear friend of mine once remarked that the parts of Alaska we were visiting were as close to going back in time as is possible. Indeed, during my years of travel up north, departing Anchorage also meant a departure from cellphone service and broadband Internet connectivity. So secluded were our final destinations, that our typical living accommodations were only connected to the civilized world by a dirt road and an emergency-use-only satellite phone. 

It is a staggeringly beautiful state; huge mountain ranges running straight to the sea - as though Colorado was situated directly on the Pacific Ocean. While my colleagues and I deployed to one of three possible regions in Alaska, I spent the lion's share of my time in two of the three. One was south of Anchorage and coastal. The other was north of Anchorage and a bit more tundra. 

It should be noted that we typically visited in the winter months - when the sun would rise at 11ish in the morning and set a few hours later by 2ish in the afternoon. Weather-wise, the coastal location was capable of wildly variant conditions, but the overwhelming majority of days were cold, windy, and rainy. Often times, the rain was more horizontal than vertical and you had a coin flip's chance of the rain crossing over to snow and sticking to the ground. The tundra location on the other hand was more stable in terms of weather, but it was an order of magnitude colder than the coastal location. It was here that I experienced what double-digit negative temperatures, ambient, not wind-chill adjusted, feel like (spoiler alert - <expletive> cold). There was no coin-flip in the tundra - if precipitation was in the forecast, it was automatically snow that not only stuck to the ground, but piled high and wide. 

The work in Alaska was typically stressful - ambitious goals were typically accompanied by even more ambitious deadlines. One of the Big Dogs (I'd say the biggest dog at one point in time) of the whole Alaska project used to tell all the worker bees how lucky we were to be working where we were. "Y'all should be thanking me, one day you'll be sitting around a fireplace telling your grand children all about your wild Alaskan adventures" he'd proclaim, particularly when we'd begin to gripe about time away from home. 

With hindsight, I can say the Big Dog was indeed correct on that count. I often find myself reflecting back on those Alaskan days and nights with fond memories. Granted, memories tend to filter out a lot of the stress and angst one actually felt at the time, but the work was particularly satisfying. Meeting those ambitious goals (not necessarily the deadlines) always resulted in a tremendous sense of satisfaction for the whole team. And speaking of the team, many of my colleagues became far more than just co-workers, they are people I developed a great deal of personal and professional respect for. Despite most of us now being scattered across different projects and companies, we remain in contact, we remain friends, often gathering to share a meal, a frosty libation, and talk about what's both new and old in our respective lives. 

I take this reminiscent detour because the whisky I am currently enjoying comes from the second-most northern distillery in Scotland - Scapa. A half-mile to the north of Scapa lies Scotland's northern-most distillery - Highland Park. Both distilleries call Orkney home and the Scapa distillery is located at a whopping 58.964 degrees of north latitude. For comparison, the most northerly Alaskan location I worked from, the tundra location, was 58.740 degrees North, a mere ~15.5 miles difference (spherical distance in latitude only). Researching and digging into Scapa, pictures of both the distillery as well as Orkney have stirred plenty of nostalgic feelings in me - from a terrain perspective, Orkney looks damn near identical to what I experienced in Alaska.

Established in 1885, Scapa remained in operation until 1994. For ten years, the distillery sat unused and and appeared to be heading for demolition. Instead, in 2004 then-owners Pernod Ricard decided to rebuild and reopen the distillery and whisky began to flow again shortly thereafter. By production output standards, Scapa is a small distillery - just two stills (one wash, one spirit) and ~1 million liters of annual output. For comparison, Glenfiddich operates 32 stills yielding ~13 million liters of output. All of this to say it's not surprising that Scapa only offers one official label, a non-age stated expression named 'Skiren'. 

What I am enjoying is not officially offered by Scapa. Instead it is offered by the independent bottling company Gordon & MacPhail. The label for this particular malt indicates the whisky in my possession was bottled in 2015, which means it was distilled in 2005, shortly after Scapa's reopening. My understanding is that Gordon & MacPhail purchased this whisky as new-make spirit and had it barreled into a barrel of their choosing. From here, the details are a bit murky as Gordon & MacPhail claim their barrels can be aged either at the source distillery or in warehouses owned by Gordon & MacPhail in the UK.

Regardless, it is important to note that while this is certainly Scapa whisky, it might, and most likely does, taste different than the official bottling of Scapa. This is the allure of independently bottled whisky - unique twists on well-established favorites can often be found. There is a risk of course that the independent offering falls short of the official offering, but this in my experience is rare. To date, for me, independently bottled malts have been whiskies that are comparable to their official counterparts in terms of quality but different in overall experience, think a bit more herbal or a bit sweeter. If you are a fan of a particular distillery, I'd recommend giving an independent offering from that distillery a shot, especially if the independent is bottled at a higher proof than the official offering.

As for this specific bottle, it's a bottle that I have seen sitting on the shelf of a local store for at least two years. My personal curiosity was piqued when I first saw the bottle, knowing the malt hailed from a remote distillery that not only happened to be in close geographical proximity to a personal favorite distillery, but whose location tapped into a strong sense of personal nostalgic lore. Two critiques kept me from purchasing through the years: 1) it was bottled at a standard 43% ABV and 2) the retail price was a lofty $63.99. On a recent Oktoberfest beer hunting trip however I noticed the bottle had been placed on the clearance table with a too-good-to-pass-up price of $32.00; there was no saying 'no' at that price. So how did the bargain-basement find fare? Impression time.

Nose
Green Apple, white grapes, vanilla, peach, watermelon candies. An A+ nose - definitely not a mega-aged malt, its youthfulness is apparent, but so too is a myriad of delightfully pleasant aromas. If only other 'younger' malts had this aroma.

Taste
Crisp, clean, gentle chili spice. Fruit and grain, mild sweetness. Gentle oak, zero char. No prickle or alcohol harshness. Unlike its Orkney neighbor (Highland Park), not a trace of peat to be found. There are no rough edges here, I'd feel safe in saying this malt spent ten years in a quality barrel with minimal shortcuts taken during its maturation. 

Finish
Medium length finish nudging towards long. Zero astringency/tannic drying. Warm chili spice tingle. Gentle oak, more oak on the finish than the smell/taste. Shocking how long this finish is given its 43% strength.

Overall
Straight away, I'll say this is far more tasty and enjoyable than I was expecting for a 10-year 43% malt. I find very little to complain about here - it is a quintessential Scotch whisky experience to me - barley, grain, a bit of sweetness, gentle oak, and a crisp, clean, straightforward taste. Offering up a pure guess, I'd say this whisky was matured in an ex-bourbon cask as there are zero traces of sherry notes or that 'twang' I get from European/French oak. This whisky is proof that long maturation periods are not mandatory for a quality experience. I get the sense that both the distillate and the barrel were produced in accordance to lofty quality standards. This whisky left me profusely wondering why other 43% whiskies cannot deliver such an outstanding experience in smell, taste, and finish... Well done Scapa and Gordon & MacPhail!

Wednesday, September 9, 2020

Redbreast Lustau Edition



Redbreast Lustau Edition
Classification: Single Pot Still Irish Whiskey
Country: Ireland
Region: County Cork (Midleton: 51.913°N 8.170°W)
Mash Bill: 100% Barley (mixture of malted and un-malted barley)
Strength: 46.0% ABV (92.0° Proof)
Color: Unknown (Internet speculation claims natural color)
Filtration: Unknown (Internet speculation claims non-chill filtered)
Maturation: No Age Statement (distillery claims 9-12 years in ex-bourbon and ex-sherry then 1 full year in first-fill Oloroso sherry from Bodegas Lustau in Jerez, Spain)
Price: $79.99 (Total Wine)


Overview

Well friends, I'm afraid I have used you as pawns. As I've mentioned a few times in various entries, I generally have four requirements when deciding to purchase a new/unknown whiskey - 1) strength greater than 43%, 2) non-chill filtered, 3) natural color, and 4) feature an age statement. While none of these are absolutely mandatory, I do try to avoid betraying these criteria as doing so in the past has yielded some disappointing duds.

But here's the rub - for the past year I've genuinely enjoyed Redbreast's 12-year cask strength whiskey. Outstanding pour after outstanding pour led me to purchase their 15-year variant which also proved to be utterly delicious (and expectedly featured a bit more oak than the 12-year). And so, totally enamored with the 12 and 15 year variants, I began to wonder about Redbreast's Lustau Edition. Technically, Redbreast's Lustau Edition only satisfies one of my four requirements (strength > 43% ABV) and so time and again I resisted the urge to purchase. Granted, very reliable and trustworthy Internet sources indicate the whiskey is indeed natural color and non-chill filtered, but since there is nothing on the label, box, or producer's website confirming this, I cannot proclaim conclusively either. 

Regardless, the striking orange box of the Lustau Edition beckoned and seduced me trip after trip to my favorite bottle shops over the previous six months. Many times I would grab a box only to return it to the shelf.

"It has no age statement"

"Why don't they say if it's non-chill filtered"

"It costs almost as much as the 12-year cask strength version, just stick with that"

Oh how i tormented myself. But then a moment of genius - what better way to honestly assess and experience a whiskey of mysterious pedigree than to send blind samples to the whiskey tasting group. And because I would be purchasing the whiskey on behalf of the group, not solely for personal consumption, those four pesky criteria can justifiably be shelved! Of course facilitating such a tasting implies I too would get to play along, but that's neither here nor there, especially when you are grasping for any remotely applicable rationale to break your self-imposed rules.

So thank you malt mates - your presence on my mental chessboard provided the check and mate in bringing home a whiskey that I have long wanted to try. Now the question is - was Redbreast Lustau Edition worth all the mental gymnastics....

Officially the youngest offering from Redbreast, the Lustau Edition begins life just as all Redbreast whiskeys do - single pot still Irish whiskey that is sent to both ex-bourbon and ex-sherry barrels for maturation. According to Redbreast's website, the Lustau Edition is created by taking 9-12 year old barrels of each ex-bourbon and ex-sherry, blending them together, then transferring the blend to first-fill ex-Oloroso sherry barrels from the Bodegas Lustau to mature for one additional year.

Tasting Impressions


“The newest addition to the Redbreast family, Redbreast Sherry Finish Lustau Edition offers fans a new way to experience our signature sherry taste, thanks to an old friendship. Born of a unique collaboration between the Bodegas Lustau and the Midleton Distillery, Redbreast Sherry Finish Lustau Edition is initially matured in traditional bourbon and sherry casks for a period of 9-12 years. It is then finished for 1 additional year in first fill hand selected sherry butts that have been seasoned with the finest Oloroso sherry from the prestigious Bodegas Lustau in Jerez. We are confident Redbreast fans will enjoy this new angle on Redbreast’s beloved sherry character.”

Group Impressions

A mighty thank you to all who played along for this tasting. Each and every time, I am continually amazed and delighted by the group's impressions of all the whiskeys we have tried together. Yet again, the group zeroed in on a consensus regarding many aspects of this whiskey - alcohol prickle (to a surprising degree), wood, caramel, and two tasters even picked up on the same candy apple vibe. In addition there was nearly a complete consensus that water added to the enjoyment of this whiskey but at the cost of reducing the whiskey's vibrancy. 

Interestingly, many thought this whiskey was American - bourbon or blended. Wagering a guess, I'd suspect this was due to the large oak influence on this whiskey, typically a safe indication of American origin. Bravo to Carol Baldwin though - while she thought it might be a bourbon, she also tossed out the possibility that it was an Irish whiskey and an Irish whiskey it was indeed. 

Michael Doheny
First sample was taken straight. The pour had a bright, inviting smell and a soft amber color. The taste was reminiscent of the air at a carnival, with wisps of angry candy apples and earth rolling about the tongue. The flavor was light and airy, with a slight numbing of the tongue, triggering my mouth to water, as I finished off the sample.

The second tasting was taken with ice. The smell was sharper, with more prominent notes of honey, but more fleeting than the previous sample. There was virtually no burn at all with the introduction of the ice. The flavor was muted, but distinct.

I would guess low to medium strength well crafted Blended American Whiskey

Zeus
Appearance: Light amber. Seemed very wet on the glass, took a while for the legs to form.

Smell: BURN! Very woodsy smell. Cedar. Maple. Cinnamon? A hangover if I drank this in excess. Getting ready for a wallop on this due to the high alcohol smell.

Taste: SMOOTH! Damn it nose, you failed me again! Sweet. Not overpowering, light on taste.

Finish: No major after burn. Maple aftertaste. Stays warm in my throat so it's definitely high proof.

General Thoughts: This is really nice. I'm thinking this is a bourbon. Adding ice smoothed this out even more. Despite its apparent high proof the flavor is not overwhelming. I can drink a lot of this in a sitting and not feel the need to move on to something else.

Oh whiskey, if I find out who you are and buy a bottle I might be drinking too much of you in a night. Then again I say that to all the sexy whiskey's. My liver is such a tease.

Guess: bourbon whiskey

Apollo
This one had the look of a decent whiskey. It was somewhat dark and had long legs. Taking a sniff revealed some alcohol smell, but also a hint of fruitiness and caramel.

The taste was not bad at all. It was hard to pick out individual flavors but I thought it tasted pretty close to how it smelled. It had a little bit of a caramel taste. There was a fairly long tongue-tingle but the flavor didn't really change much during this phase. So there was not a particularly distinctive finish.

My overall feeling is that this is a pretty good whiskey that I wouldn't mind drinking regularly. I still prefer my old standby (Glenfiddich 12 year), but this was not bad at all. It didn't really make a big impression on me, but it was perfectly fine.

Jonathan Quayle Higgins
Nose
Brown sugar, vanilla, barley sugar, green grass, candy apple, hazelnuts

A sharp alcohol prickle if you smell too deeply or for too long

Water calms the alcohol prickle/punch significantly. Post-water, I start to detect red fruit, cocoa powder, vanilla syrup, almond syrup

Taste
Barley, fig, gentle clove/ginger spice, almonds. A bit of that ‘twang’ I associate with French oak influence. Occasionally I get an iodine/bandaid vibe, perhaps a bit of pencil shavings/graphite. This is not a consistent impression for me though, so I am not convinced it is an actual component of the whiskey’s experience. 

Sipped neat there is a far larger youthful ethanol punch than I’d expect. Adding water helps tame the fire but use caution here - you can easily add too much water which washes out what comes next, the finish.

Finish
Oak, mild fruit (plum/apricot) sweetness, almond, spice (clove). The finish is medium length when sipped neat, but frustratingly short when too much water is added. Neither finish, neat or with water, is drying.

Overall
Hmmmmm, I am not all that enamored with this whiskey. For me, the aroma is far and away the best part of the experience with this whiskey. It has appealing characteristics, but I feel I set the bar too high due to my unbounded enjoyment of other Redbreast offerings. 

In my opinion, this whiskey tastes a bit too young. I know Redbreast say this is 9-12 years old plus another year on top of that in the Lustau barrels, but this whiskey tastes younger, hotter, feistier than its standard 12-year counterpart. Water helps tame the prickle, but care must be taken, adding too much water diminishes the vibrancy of the flavors and also radically shortens the finish.

Through pure happenstance, I did stumble upon a weird compromise with this whiskey - splitting a pour into two parts. The first part I’d enjoy with water, the second part I’d enjoy neat. Acclimating my palate to the prickle with a slightly diluted pour really led to a far greater enjoyment of a neat second pour. Of course, the idea of splitting a nightly pour into two parts is a bit annoying. Personally, there are many nights, I just want to pour, sip, enjoy, and not worry about ratios and adjustments.

In the end though, regardless of ratios and adjustments, I just don’t enjoy the Lustau Edition of Redbreast as much as I enjoy their 12-year old version. I still have yet to try Redbreast’s 21 or 27 year old expressions, but for now, the 12-year will remain a staple on my shelf and a constant go-to whiskey.

My negatives for this whiskey:
- Punchier than expected alcohol prickle. It tastes younger than Redbreast’s 12 year offering despite purportedly being very close in terms of age.
- Nose promises a better taste and finish than what is actually delivered
- Finish could be longer

My positives for this whiskey:
- Delightful nose - barley and fruit sweetness accentuated by that classic fresh green grass smell of single pot still Irish whiskey. With time and water, cocoa, almonds/hazelnuts, and vanilla appear, what an aroma!

Carol Baldwin
Appearance: Golden honey color; thin legs quickly appeared.

Smell: Sharp, alcohol. Resin. Warm Oak. Soft butter caramel.

Taste: Sharp alcohol, very sharp. Woody and tannic. Hints of soft caramel. Numbs the tongue so that it's hard to taste the flavors after a few sips.

Finish: Lingering Alcohol finish. Tannic. Tingles on the tongue and warms the throat.

General Thoughts: Straight up the experience was very sharp, the alcohol flavor is forefront and the tannic qualities tingle and numb the tongue. The warm wood still comes through slightly however. Using a proper whiskey glass that allows you to experience the nose along with the taste is ideal for this whiskey; for some of the nuances, the soft caramel and the complexity of the woods are best experienced through the nose. Adding a splash of water did open up the scent a bit more.

Guess: leaning towards bourbon, but also could be an Irish whiskey

Wednesday, August 5, 2020

Glen Scotia 15 - The Details

An off-kilter malt


Glen Scotia 15 Year
Classification: Single Malt Scotch Whisky
Country: Scotland
Region: Campbeltown (Campbeltown: 55.430N, -5.604W)
Mash Bill: 100% Malted Barley
Strength: 46.0% ABV (92.0° Proof)
Color: Unknown (reliable sources indicate artificial color)
Filtration: Non-chill Filtered
Maturation: 15 Years in American Oak
Price: $69.99 (Luekens Wine & Spirits)

Well friends, I've ended my Internet embargo on Glen Scotia and decided to see what both the distillery and various whisky sites have to say about this whisky that I've spent the past month with. One historical nugget I came across while digging into Glen Scotia was in regard to the distillery's region - Campbeltown. In the early 1900s, Campbeltown was considered the whisky capital of the world, home to over 20 distilleries. By 1934 however, only two remained - Glen Scotia and Springbank, the rest shuttered, never to return due to the impacts of Prohibition in the United States and the Great Depression across the globe. Today, Glengyle joins Glen Scotia and Springbank as the three distilleries operating in Campbeltown, a mere wisp of its former glory in terms of quantity, but the region's legacy is preserved by being recognized as an official Scotch producing region by the Scotch Whisky Association.

Jumping into the whisky itself, Glen Scotia's official site describes the 15-year as such:






Reviewing my four sets of tasting notes, I definitely concur with the spice notes. What's interesting is many characterize Glen Scotia's spice as ginger-based whereas I was more along the lines of black and white pepper. Vanilla and oak were fairly obvious to me as well, but many noting fruits, particularly apricot caught my attention. I adore apricots, sometimes to an explosive degree (apricots like prunes promote 'healthy digestion', I'll leave the rest to your imagination), yet I failed to detect any apricot in Glen Scotia. As promised, I plan on leaving the Glen Scotia on the shelf for at least a month, perhaps sitting for that long with the extra air now in the bottle will help reveal those mysterious fruity notes that others have reported. I did catch a passing whiff of some in my later tastings, but nothing that I'd consider close to dominant.

As far as Glen Scotia's reviews on the Internet - they range from sub-par to excellent, which is to say that whisky reviews always, ALWAYS need to be taken for exactly what they are - subjective opinions. 

Personally, I am more interested in reading tasting notes and much less interested in reading a score; scoring a whisky always seems rather arbitrary to me. Along with tasting notes, I also like to quantify my enjoyment of any given whisky as whether I'd buy another bottle of that whisky or not (more on that below). 

Some Internet sleuthing uncovered a few interesting tidbits, folks who have toured the Glen Scotia distillery relay that Glen Scotia's 15-year is overwhelmingly matured in first-fill ex-Bourbon casks with a smidgen of ex-sherry American oak as well. I must say, if this is true, if Glen Scotia really is predominately using first-fill ex-Bourbon casks for 15 years of aging, then why oh why would they color the whisky!? Perhaps their branding/marketing team desires a color uniformity that cannot be guaranteed without artificial enhancement, but to that I say - boo! If you (rightfully) bottle the 15-year without chill filtration then it makes sense (in my opinion) to also bottle the malt in its natural color. It just seems woefully counter-intuitive to go to the expense of using first-fill ex-Bourbon only to mask the beautiful color that those barrels impart. Oh well.

So this almost concludes my time with Glen Scotia 15-year. As stated, i do plan on leaving this bottle alone, safely tucked away on the shelf until this Fall or Winter. When I do revisit this whisky, I promise to post a follow-up to record my impressions. That being said, I do applaud the evolution of Glen Scotia over the past month. When I first opened the bottle I was rather ho-hum regarding the whisky, but each successive night yielded a better experience. Sitting here tonight with yet another pour, I'd recommend this whisky to anyone who enjoys a malt whisky heavily influenced by ex-bourbon barrels, a spicy rather than a sweet dram, and someone not afraid to tinker with water to dial in the whisky to personal preferences.

Finally, would I purchase a second bottle of Glen Scotia 15-year? Eventually, yes, however not until I've finished my current bottle, and even then, it would not be an immediate priority. It is a good, enjoyable, and ultimately unique whisky, particularly when tasted alongside other single malts matured almost exclusively in ex-Bourbon casks. The label on the back of the Glen Scotia's box proclaims "Campbeltown whiskies are intriguing - appealing to those consumers looking for something a little off the beaten track." To that I say mission accomplished and job well done Glen Scotia - your predominately ex-Bourbon cask matured single malt is definitely intriguing and quite different than the beaten path of your Scottish counterparts also matured in ex-Bourbon casks.

Until next time malt mates - stay healthy, stay positive, and most of all, stay frothy.

Friday, July 31, 2020

Glen Scotia - Night Four



Another night, another tasting of this Glen Scotia. As I approached the shelf to grab the bottle, I saw the Japanese-imposter that I procured not too long ago and was reminded that it, like this Glen Scotia, is also fifteen years of age. Finding the numeric coincidence interesting, I decided to pour a bit of the Shin to accompany tonight's dram.

Same rules as before - capture my impressions in real-time and post at the conclusion with minimal editing. No TV viewing companion this evening, instead the heavenly sounds of Oscar Peterson and his Trio are gently wafting through the room.

The Smell
Holy moly.... this is genuinely mind-blowing. These two whiskies smell *very* similar to each other. I'll admit, I poured the Shin as a bit of a goof, thinking it would be nothing like the Glen Scotia, but alas, the joke is on me. These are so close in aroma, I'm wondering if the Shin's mystery distillery of origin is a Campbeltown distillery? Statistically unlikely of course, but these two really do smell similar. As an aside, smelling these two side-by-side really brings into focus how little Mizunara influence there is in the Shin.

As for specific smells in the Glen Scotia, caramel, faint vanilla, not-so-faint oak, toasted oak though, not charred/burnt oak. A bit of leather furniture and white pepper. There is a grassy, fresh grass vibe just lingering in the far reaches of the nose. 

The Taste
Neat from the bottle, the Glen Scotia still has too much of an alcohol punch. The electricity running over my tongue blocks out most of the flavors. I definitely feel the Glen Scotia needs some water to be totally enjoyable. As for the Shin - these two are similar in taste, but not as similar as they were on the nose. Not only does the Shin have a good bit more oak than the Glen Scotia, but the oak is of a different variety - more charred than toasted. I am going to put the Shin to the side for the moment and continue on with the Glen Scotia.

The peppery spice remains front and center on the taste. That impression has remained consistent from the beginning. Barley sugar, a molasses sweetness rather than a brown-sugar caramel sweetness, think a savory, not overly sweet dessert. After the sweetness fades, a rush of more spice and oak and then slightly drying tannins lead into the finish. The drying finish is reminiscent of a very gentle black tea.

I know this sounds wackadoo, but there is a rye-bread impression to the tail-end of a sip tonight. I am flashing back to visiting some of my favorite Jewish or German delis and having a pastrami/corned beef on rye. There is a distinctive pungent spice that rye bread can deposit on the back of your tongue/throat and that is precisely the impression I am getting tonight. That is a first for this whisky.

The Finish
The finish remains medium-length for me. We start off with a nice mouth-coating of pepper, then toasted oak, a bit of lightly-sweetened black tea, and then the spice reemerges and remains until the finish fades away into the ether. All in all, a very pleasant finish that is totally consistent with the nose and taste of the whisky.

Fourth Pour Overall
I've tossed around plenty of flip-flopping speculation on whether the Glen Scotia is artificially colored or not. Tonight, alongside the Shin, I am less positive that the Glen Scotia is artificially colored. The Shin proclaims on its label that it is indeed natural color, yet it is darker than the Glen Scotia. Both are the same age, both were aged in American oak (though the Shin had a finishing in Mizunara oak), and yet the Shin is darker. Of course, this could be due to a number of variables, but taking the Shin at its word that it is natural color, I am still leaning that the Glen Scotia is artificially colored due to its mild orange glow compared to the Shin's reddish-brown hue.

As for night four, I'd say a comparable level of enjoyment to night three. I feel like this whisky has plateaued for me in terms of improvement. It has been a solid improvement however - after night one, I was not all that impressed by the malt and was not convinced there would be a night two. Yet night two marked such an improvement that I eagerly anticipated a night three with Glen Scotia. This whisky has gone from meh on night one to a pretty good on night four. While I don't plan on always keeping a bottle of this malt on the shelf, it has proven itself to be a solid, respectable whisky.

In the coming days, I'll plan on having a fifth tasting where I share reviews and tasting notes that I find on Glen Scotia. I will at some point, a handful of months down the road, crack the bottle again to see if an extended period of rest with a good chunk of air in the bottle changes the experience to any degree, perhaps even revealing new smells and tastes.

Until August my good friends. Cheers and salutations. Oh and OP, you sir are a piano player for the ages.

Wednesday, July 29, 2020

Group Tasting - Pandemic Edition

No refunds, consider your refund escaping this death trap with your lives!

It's been six months since we've had a group tasting and heck, we're enduring a pandemic, so what better excuse to raise a glass and dilute our concerns. While this tasting won't be as grand as the taste-off spectacular between some of Ireland's most affordable whiskeys, I suspect all will find something to enjoy in these samples. Look for the reveal sometime in August.

All samples guaranteed COVID-free*!

*At the time of shipping. No one can guarantee what happens to them once you filthy animals get your grubby paws on them.

Wednesday, July 22, 2020

Glen Scotia - Night Three


What better night for a third pour of this mostly-a-mystery-to-me - Glen Scotia 15 Year - than to cap a hump day. Tonight, as I poured the whisky I was struck by its color. In my first tasting I proclaimed that the whisky did not have an overly fake orange glow leading me to believe that if it was artificially colored, it was not to an excessive degree. I'd like to amend that observation. The lighting in the kitchen is a bit cooler than the lighting in the room where I poured the first two pours. In the cooler light, this malt does indeed have a bit more unnatural orange glow so now I'm thinking this whisky does indeed contain artificial coloring and it is colored a fair amount.

As I departed the kitchen and trundled to my trusty chair of contemplation, smelling the whisky as I went, I was surprised at how different the malt seemed to me. Perhaps there are some surprises in store for me tonight. Same rules apply - a real-time capture of my impressions as I sip. Tonight's malt companion is the tenth episode of the hit 1964 series from Great Britain - Stingray.

The Smell
Whoa, now this is interesting, tonight I am getting a grassy honey vibe. The immediate memory that comes to mind is the smell of Drambuie. Baking spices, toasted oak, and a bit of vanilla are also present. 

The Taste
Surprise surprise, the spice is still front and center, but there is a bolder oak influence this time around. The second half of the sip reveals a bit of citrus sweetness, a dusty grass note, and just a bit of cigar tobacco. Three pours in and a savory spice (thyme, cayenne, and black pepper) still dominates the taste - think three parts spice to one part sweet and one part oak with just a whisper of aged tobacco.

The Finish
The finish is every bit of medium length. Definitely not short nor long to me. In order of proportion, spice, oak, and sweetness are the characteristics most observable to me. I do not detect any of that cigar tobacco that I encountered in the taste, but there is a taste sensation in my mouth reminiscent of a sauvignon blanc wine - an acidic, vibrant citrus-sweet yet tart paradox. Unlike a sauvignon blanc however, the presence of toasted oak also persists in the finish.

Third Pour Overall
For reference, tonight's pour was 1.5 ounces and I added ~1 teaspoon of water early in the tasting. After adding the water, I feel the nose became less interesting - lost was that grassy Drambuie vibe but a cotton candy sweetness emerged. 

While water muted the nose a bit, it absolutely improved the taste for me. The spice level dropped just enough to allow honey sweetness, toasted oak and cigar impressions to surface. Very interesting change in taste for me. 

Far and away, I'd say tonight's pour has been the most enjoyable of the bunch. I was disappointed after my first pour, thinking this whisky's profile was not a good match for my palate. The second taste was better, but not by a large margin. Had you asked me after night one or two, I would have said that I would not purchase another bottle, nor would I often reach for this whisky. Tonight however is a much different experience, I quite enjoyed this malt. Is the whisky opening up a bit in the bottle now that it has a bit more air as the fill-level has dropped? Perhaps my palate is just a bit more open to this whisky's uniqueness? I have more questions than answers at the moment.

I suspect there will be a fourth pour, I am most curious to see if this improvement trend continues. By the by, tonight's ounce and a half took three episodes of Stingray to complete. Troy and Phones make excellent hooch buddies.

Thursday, July 16, 2020

Glen Scotia - Night Two


For the second tasting of Glen Scotia 15-year, I thought I'd bring some friends along. The first companion is Balvenie's 12-year 'The Sweet Toast of American Oak'. The Balvenie joins tonight's party because like the Glen Scotia, it too was matured exclusively in American oak. The second friend - Talisker 10-year - joins the Balvenie because my dominant memory of Talisker is it being a spicy dram which is precisely the impression that dominated my first tasting of Glen Scotia.

Just as with the first tasting, I am recording impressions 'live' and will post with minimal editing at the conclusion of the tasting.

The Smell
Uh-oh... we have a problem. Smelling each whisky exposed an immediate flaw in my memory. I selected the Talisker because I remembered it to be a spicy malt, but as soon as I uncorked the bottle, I was reminded of what is almost certainly Talisker's most dominant note - peat. Isn't memory a funny thing, vivid yet often flawed. Oh well, the Talisker is poured, but I will avoid tasting it while tasting the other two for fear of the peat unfairly polluting my palate.

Glen Scotia - a bit more alcohol on the nose than I remembered, but there is also a candy-apple vibe this time around. Reminiscent of the smell emanating from a candy apple stall at the local fairs of my childhood; notes of caramel, boiling sugar, and yes, fresh apple. Incredible, tonight this whisky smells quite different than how it smelled to me the first night. Alongside the caramel, there is a candied-vanilla smell as well tonight, not like vanilla extract, but like a cream soda. 

Balvenie - less alcohol on the nose than the Glen Scotia. A very enticing sweetness with a hint of sawdust believe it or not. Citrus, specifically lemon and orange jump out as well. A faint vanilla, but this is more of a vanilla extract smell compared to the Glen Scotia's vanilla syrup vibe.

The Taste
Glen Scotia - There is that rush of spice that I remember from the first tasting. There is minimal fruit on the taste for me - spice and oak dominate. There is a passing impression that comes across every now and again that I just can't put my finger on. It is an impression that is frustratingly within my grasp, yet just beyond range of coming into focus. It is a dark, stewed fruit kinda impression, a bit similar to Cognac. I need more time with this malt...

Balvenie - The taste progression is pretty interesting and (overall) satisfying - a gentle alcohol harshness in the beginning then a strong lemon-peel impression and then a sweetness that reminds me of honey. Present throughout the sip is a smell of sawdust - think the smell of those old-school lumber yards that were cutting boards nearby. This is a dry sawdust smell, not a resign type smell.

The Finish
It's difficult to discuss the finish of each whisky when tasting two at a time. I'd say both have comparable finishes in terms of medium length and intensity, but it's difficult to say who is bringing what to this party.

Second Taste Overall
Well that was interesting - the nose of the Glen Scotia yielded some radically new impressions this time around. The taste however was quite similar to what I remember from night one. As for the head-to-head with the Balvenie, I'd say the Balvenie is more my speed in terms of experience - citrusy sweet vs the Glen Scotia's oaky spice. The biggest knock on the Balvenie is being a bit too prickly in terms of a youthful alcohol presence.  For the second tasting in a row, the spice level of the Glen Scotia remains my biggest criticism.

As an added bonus, just because I poured it, some Talisker 10 impressions. Peat on the nose along with a briny salt air like driving down a coastal road. The peat continues on the taste, but just as remembered, a good dollop of peppery spice accentuated by a gentle sweetness as well. The peat level is ~50% less than what I'd expect from an Ardbeg, but is similar in character. I'd say the finish of the Talisker is longer and more intense than either the Balvenie or Glen Scotia but in all fairness, the presence of peat really makes the Talisker's finish stand out and linger and could be skewing my impressions.

At least one more tasting of the Glen Scotia before I compare to any official tasting notes and reviews. I must admit, I have been supremely tempted to Google Glen Scotia to see what others have said about the malt, but I promise, I have resisted those urges. I remain blissfully in the dark regarding Glen Scotia.

Tuesday, July 7, 2020

Glen Scotia 15 Year - Night One



Typically, before posting a writeup for a whisky, I try to have (at least) three separate tastings, recording impressions for each. Once the tastings are complete, the process of creating the actual blog writeup begins. This process takes anywhere from two to three weeks as I spend a few hours on a handful of nights shaping, editing, and finalizing the structure of the entry. Tonight, I am trying something different, essentially a live tasting of a whisky. I foresee posting two more such entries as I conduct more tastings with this whisky in the coming weeks.

Tonight, my much better half and I will be tasting an impulse purchase that is a total mystery to me - Glen Scotia 15 Year. Just as with my impulse purchase of Loch Lomond 18 Year, this Glen Scotia satisfied three of my four requirements for purchasing an unknown whisky - age statement, non-chill filtered, and higher-than typical proof. Coming in at $69.99 and having never read a single review nor visited the producer’s website, I decided to take the plunge. My goal - taste, record my impressions in real time, and then once complete with three or so separate tastings, post the official tasting notes as well as review consensus to see how closely my impressions were.

Here is what the box and label tell me about this Glen Scotia: Single Malt Scotch Whisky. 15-years of age. Distilled, matured, and aged in Scotland. Classic Campbeltown Malt. Gently Matured in the Finest American Oak Barrels (the label on the bottle; the label on the back of the box proclaims gently matured in old American oak barrels). 46% ABV. And on the box’s back label: Campbeltown whiskies are intriguing - appealing to those consumers looking for something a little off the beaten track.

The appearance is somewhere between dark gold to medium amber. The label offers no proclamation that the whisky is indeed natural color, so it's a fair assumption the whisky is artificially colored. The appearance is not a glowing orange, so if this malt does indeed have a fake tan, it is not done so to an excessive degree.

The Smell
The smell is quite nice. An intense honey/vanilla sweetness leaps from the glass. A barley sugar note is right behind the honey/vanilla sweetness. There is also a subtle dried grass vibe here, but it is dwarfed by the sugar vibes. Zero peat on the nose, so I feel it safe to say this is an un-peated malt. A mild alcohol punch, nothing too excessive here. There is a gentle oak but a toasted oak, not a heavy char or wood resin. This absolutely smells of a bourbon barrel aged malt, so the label's proclamation of American oak maturation is totally believable.

The Taste
Holy moly, what a tongue punch. The initial sip packs way more of an ethanol punch than expected based on the smell. There is near-zero sweetness in the taste which also defies the expectations set by the smell. After the explosive arrival there is a meteoric rise of spiciness that continues well into the finish. This spiciness is much more than simple alcohol burn, there is a sharp, intentional spice here. Off the top of my head, the spice level is reminiscent of Talisker 10-year. Based on the initial wallop, I added a few splashes of water in the hopes of taming the malt. 

Water definitely helps tame the initial wallop. The spice remains however; what surprises me is how little sweetness there is. In a totally unscientific guess, I'd say the spice influence is four times that of the sweet influence. Towards the end of the sip there is an interesting, and pleasant, gentle bitterness. Perhaps the only area where the smell and taste are in total agreement is the lack of peat - this is definitely not a peated malt.

After a bit of time, I'd say the spice does subside enough to reveal some fruit sweetness, but make no mistake, the fruit sweetness appears like sporadic light beams breaking through a dense, overcast cloud layer of spice. 

The Finish
The spice found in the taste absolutely remains in the finish and lingers for some time. As the spice subsides, there is a whisker of sweetness followed by a slight tannic drying sensation. That pleasing, gentle bitterness on the conclusion of the taste reappears on the tail-end of the finish. Usually, one would not describe bitterness as a pleasing attribute, but in this malt, it not only works, but seems perfectly complementary to the overall experience. The finish lingers for a respectable amount of time - absolutely a medium-length finish, flirting with a long finish.

First Taste Overall
What a rollercoaster ride. Based on the smell, I was expecting a far sweeter dram than what I experienced. The level of spice was really unexpected and in my first taste, I'd say it's a few notches too strong. If I could rebalance this malt, I'd leave the sweetness where it is but dial down the spice two clicks. 

Re-reading the prose on the box's back label: Campbeltown whiskeys are intriguing - appealing to those consumers looking for something a little off the beaten track, I'd say mission accomplished. This malt is entirely intriguing and I cannot think of another malt on my shelf that is similar. Perhaps Talisker 10-year for spice, Deanston 12-year for sweetness on the nose, but as a complete package, this Glen Scotia 15-year is very much unique. If pressed to give a recommendation, I'd say to pass on this malt, unless spiciness is your thing. Please note though, this is the very first tasting, let's see how the malt evolves to my tastes over subsequent tastings.

More to come!

Saturday, May 2, 2020

A Little Daisy Will Do Ya...


Well, it's the time of year where you are bound to see plenty of Cinco de Mayo themed recipes. While it may seem cliched, allow me to toss one more at you - the Tequila Daisy, also known as the Margarita (margarita is Spanish for daisy). At its core, the Daisy is as old school as cocktails get - a combination of spirit, something sour, something sweet, and perhaps a splash of something effervescent. While Daisies are as varied as fingerprints, all share the same end goal - to be cold, refreshing, and dangerously easy to consume.

As for the tequila daisy, there are two critical guidelines - use a tequila distilled from 100% agave (no mixtos allowed at this party) and use fresh-squeezed lime juice. After that, the daisy is at your complete disposal, feel free to add and tweak to your personal preferences. For example, my much better half typically doubles the amount of lime, but adds a half-ounce of a peach liqueur to offset the added sour. I sometimes enjoy integrating orange juice and bitters. Think of the basic daisy recipe below as a jumping off point - delicious on its own and infinitely customizable.

The Tequila Daisy

Ingredients
  • 2 ounces 100% agave silver tequila
  • 1 ounce Cointreau
  • 0.75 fresh lime juice

Composition
Put the tequila, Cointreau, and lime juice in a cocktail shaker along with a good handful of ice. Plop the top on and shake vigorously to give everything a good chill and break up the ice. Dump the contents of the shaker into a glass unstrained (called a dirty dump!) and enjoy.

Speaking of tequila - as you see above, there are three different silver tequilas on the shelf at the moment. A few weeks ago, there was a fourth - Don Julio. Tasting all four neat and side-by-side was pretty interesting. I found all four enjoyable, despite the reputation of un-aged spirits being too harsh to consume outside of mixers. In a very unusual coincidence, my better half and I each rated the four silver tequilas identically in regard to favorite to least favorite:
  1. Casa Noble - great agave smell, sensational agave taste, smooth, long finish
  2. Patron - great agave smell, good agave taste, just a tad harsh, short finish
  3. (Tied with Patron) Herradura - a gentle smokey smell and taste, not like mezcal, but on the road to mezcal. The most unique of the bunch due to the smokey note and I'm likely to keep a bottle around as a result.
  4. Don Julio - outstanding agave smell, the best of the bunch, but the alcohol harshness/rough-edges was the most pronounced of the group. Of the four, the only one I'm not likely to purchase again unless it's being offered at an enticing sale price.
Hope everyone is well. ¡Hasta luego amigos!


Tuesday, April 28, 2020

You Sit on a Throne of Lies! ... possibly



What you see above; what I have before me, are two potential imposters. I cannot forecast to you the true identity of either - they are each a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma; but perhaps there is a key. The key is the present day's sheer hysteria over Japanese whisky.

Lionized in pop culture by Bill Murray's Lost in Translation character - "for relaxing times, make it Suntory time". Awarded World Whisky of the Year in Jim Murray's 2015 Whisky Bible (specifically the Yamazaki Single Malt Sherry Cask 2013). Japanese whisky has transcended being a simple beverage of leisure to become both a status symbol and for some examples, a commodity whose valuation on the secondary market easily exceeds its retail price.

The two whiskies above are not such examples. In fact, thanks to the scandalously loose labeling laws for Japanese whisky, there is a chance neither were distilled in Japan proper. Incredibly, a producer can import whisky from any country, simply re-bottle it in Japan, and label it legally as 'Japanese Whisky'.

So what do we have on our hands and why in the world would I fiscally support what amounts to legal loophole shenanigans? Well, before we dive into the two whiskies, let's discuss one common trait that both proudly proclaim on their label - the use of Japanese mizunara during maturation.

Mizunara is a species of oak native to Japan that has gained a near-mythical reputation for its ability to impart a totally unique set of flavors into a whisky during maturation. Sandalwood, incense, tea, pear, and coconut are hallmarks of a mizunara matured whisky. Unfortunately, mizunara is far from an ideal wood to make barrels from due to three main problems - first, the tree requires an average of 200 years before it is mature enough to fell (as opposed to ~80 years American oak requires). Second, the tree itself rarely grows straight, instead taking on a beautifully random growth pattern reminiscent of a meticulously trimmed bonsai tree. Lastly, the oak's moisture content and porousness are significantly higher than American or French oak resulting in staves that are harder to shape and far more prone to leakage once formed into a barrel. All of this translates to an oak variety that is not that prevalent in whisky maturation warehouses around the world. Those that have used mizunara - Suntory, Bowmore, Macallan to name a few - have done so with great success, albeit it in extremely small and extremely expensive releases. Which brings me back to the two whiskies sitting before me. Both claim to use Mizunara oak - one with no indication of duration in mizunara and the other labeled as 'Mizunara Oak Finish'. Let's dive in and break each down.

First up, on the left, is Kaiyo Cask Strength whisky. Kaiyo's label offers very little insight into the whisky's provenance - Japanese Mizunara Oak, Un-Chill Filtered, and 53% ABV. Purchase price: $89.99 at my local Total Wine. No mention of a distillery, no mention of a country of production, not even a mention of the grain used to make the whisky. Some internet sleuthing yields more information, but be warned, there is no way to cross-check this information on Kaiyo's website.

The most useful backstory was provided by K&L Spirit's blog: https://spiritsjournal.klwines.com/klwinescom-spirits-blog/2017/10/24/introducing-kaiyo.html.

According to K&L, Kaiyo acquired barrels of new-make 100% malted barley whisky from a Japanese distillery that were 'teaspooned'. Teaspooned barrels are barrels that the producing distillery literally adds a teaspoon of another distillery's whisky to thereby preventing the purchaser from labeling the resulting whisky as a single malt from a specific distillery. K&L also claims the folks at Kaiyo transfer their new-make Japanese whisky into mizunara oak barrels that were produced at the Ariake cooperage in Japan. Here is where K&L's specifics begin to falter, there is no mention of how long the whisky spends in the mizunara barrels, but there is a rather intriguing plot twist - all the barrels are aged partially at sea in cargo ships (precisely the technique used in Jefferson's Ocean Series). As I said, there is no way to cross-check any of this information on Kaiyo's website so it's up to the individual to determine its merit. Personally, I was willing to accept this information as true in good-faith, but I also understand why others would remain justifiably unconvinced. Assuming K&L's information to be true, I could not resist the urge to taste a Japanese whisky matured in mizunara oak, even betraying my rules on avoiding whiskies whose labels provide more mystery than provenance.

The second whisky is the Shin. In contrast to the Kaiyo, the Shin's label discloses far more information - malt whisky, mizunara oak finish, 15 years old, natural color, un-chill filtered, 48% ABV, and 'Product of Japan'. Purchase price: $99.99 at my local Total Wine. On paper, the Shin runs circles around Kaiyo, but remember, a producer can import whisky from any country, re-bottle it in Japan, and label it legally as a product of Japan. Though I cannot prove it, I suspect that is precisely what has happened with the Shin. For starters, the two major Japanese whisky distillers - Suntory and Nikka - have almost completely eliminated age-stated malt whiskies from their portfolios due to a crushing shortage in their respective whisky stocks. How probable is it that a new producer in Japan could somehow get their hands on barrels of 15-year old Japanese whisky? Highly unlikely. Even if they could somehow get 15-year old Japanese whisky, the asking price would be much higher than $100. Offering a pure guess, I believe what is sitting in this bottle was distilled and matured in Scotland. From there, the whisky was shipped to Japan and transferred into mizunara oak barrels for period of time (hence the label's 'mizunara oak finish') before finally being bottled for retail. Legal labeling sleight-of-hand aside, the mystery whisky does indeed carry some nice production pedigree, which is precisely why I decided to purchase - it is a 15-year old malt, natural color, un-chill filtered, finished in a very interesting variety of oak and bottled at 48%. If this was a bottle on offer from say a Balvenie or a Macallan, the asking price would easily be in the $100 to $150 range, so I decided to take a chance.

If my hunch about the Shin is correct, we find ourselves in the bizarre situation where the whisky that discloses more information on its label is actually less authentic than what it implies to be! It could be that the Kaiyo, which doesn't even proclaim to be a product of Japan, is in fact actual Japanese whisky whereas the Shin, that proudly proclaims to be a 'Product of Japan', is in fact the imposter. Welcome to the dangers of loose labeling laws and regulations.

Oh well, enough semantics, how do these whiskies actually taste?

Kaiyo
Nose - sweet, cinnamon, spice, orange marmalade, light sandalwood, light coconut
Taste - sweet, cinnamon, orange, Grand Marnier-esque, gentle sandalwood
Finish - medium length, light oak, orange, cinnamon, incense
Overall:
Each aspect of this whisky was remarkably similar throughout the tasting experience. The smell matched the taste matched the finish. Orange is the dominant fruit for me, whispers of coconut exist, but more dominant is an incredible incense/sandalwood vibe. On the nose, the incense/sandalwood vibe is very reminiscent of how Drambuie smells. In the mouth however, the taste is very reminiscent of Grand Marnier. On the finish a gentle oak and incense impression, think orange spiced tea.

Along those Grand Marnier lines, this is a sweet whisky - not as sweet as Grand Mariner, but also far from what I would consider dry or savory. Straight from the bottle, 53% ABV is too hot in my opinion. The alcohol punch is too great and the overall balance of flavors suffer as a result. I added enough water to bring the malt down to the 45% range which dials back the alcohol punch just enough to let the flavors emerge. Final verdict, would I purchase a second bottle of this? Yes. Yes I would. I have quite enjoyed my pours from this bottle when proofed down a bit and would like to keep this on my shelf.

The Shin
Nose - sandalwood, incense, orange marmalade, faint cinnamon, medium oak, cafe au lait, red apples
Taste - sharp, drying, oak, gently astringent, mild orange, mild barley
Finish - medium, leaning towards long, very gentle bitterness, some oak, slightly drying
Overall:
The most dominant impression the Shin makes initially is oak. There is a moderate amount of oak on the nose, a giant dollop of oak on the tongue, and a lingering oak/tannic dryness on the finish. The second most dominant impression, in regard to taste at least, is a tongue-punch of alcohol. The alcohol is far harsher than I expected given the malt's 15-year age statement. But here's a secret I discovered with the Shin - time is its best friend. Allowing this whisky some time (and a splash of water) to sit in the glass undisturbed does wonders - the oak retreats a bit as does the harsh alcohol. On the nose - gentle orange and incense and sandalwood are mildly present, aromas reminiscent of coffee and apples emerged. On the tongue, the oak remains, but is less tannic. There is less fruit on the tongue than on the nose, but what is there reminds me of a bold Highland style of whisky. This is not a sweet dram, nor is it a gentle dram, but it does have an enjoyable bit of moxy. Final verdict, would I purchase a second bottle of this? Probably not, at least not for $100. $70 feels more reasonable for the delivered experience and the possible labeling deception.

Comparing the two head-to-head, the mizunara influence is less in the Shin than the Kaiyo. Yes, they share some common characteristics, particularly that sandalwood/incense vibe that reminds me of Drambuie, but it is about half as potent in the Shin as it is in the Kaiyo. Further, the Kaiyo has far more ripe fruit influence than the Shin. In contrast, the Shin has far more oak influence than the Kaiyo; think a sweet, fruity pour compared to an oak-ey, drying/tannic pour. Using a wine analogy, the Kaiyo is like a jammy Malbec to the Shin's oak-driven Cabernet Sauvignon. Both are quite enjoyable, but it all boils down to what the individual taster enjoys and is looking to experience.

One final footnote. Happily the whisky producers in Japan realize the serious liability their lax labeling laws present. Unscrupulous producers not only can, but will produce crap product, label it as Japanese, rinse and repeat, and before too long, the entire industry will be regarded as crap. There are improvements on the horizon however. Not perfect improvements, but certainly positive first steps to righting the ship and ensuring Japanese whisky is properly represented by dedicated professionals rather than fly-by-night charlatans.

Cheers until May my friends.

P.S. A special thanks to Winston for this entry's opening inspiration.