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.

Thursday, April 2, 2020

Loch Lomond 18-Year

Click to enlarge

Obersalzberg, Germany V-E day

Dear Dennis,
The man who might have written on this card once controlled Europe - three short years ago when you were born. Today he is dead, his memory dispised (sic), his country in ruins. He had a thirst for power, a low opinion of man as an individual, and a fear of intellectual honesty. He was a force for evil in the world. His passing, his defeat - a boon to mankind. But thousands died that it might be so. The price for ridding society of bad is always high.
Love,
Daddy

The letter above was written by Richard Helms, to his son Dennis, on May 8, 1945 while Richard was serving in the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) in the European Theater of World War Two. Specifically, Richard's group was scouring the Berghof, Adolf Hitler's personal residence in the Bavarian Alps region of southern Germany. During the scouring, Mr. Helms came across Hitler's personal stationary and decided to pen the letter, beautifully summarizing the catalyst for so much pain and destruction.

So why the historical detour in a space that is dedicated to adult libations? Well dear readers, I've been in a contemplative mood lately. Two common companions during my evening contemplations tend to be a wee pour of whisky and whatever happens to be the book du jour that I am working though. Lately, said whiskey has been Loch Lomond 18 year and the book has been Inside Hitler's High Command by Geoffrey P. Megargee. The book dispels the myth that Germany's military leadership was impaired by Hitler's meddling and strategic blunders. The book illustrates quite decisively that Germany's military leadership was itself far more flawed than many realize. As I've been working through the book, my mind kept flashing back to that letter Richard Helms wrote his son.

Richard Helms went on to serve in the successor of the OSS, the Central Intelligence Agency, culminating as the Agency's Director during the Lyndon Johnson and Richard Nixon administrations. Today that letter hangs in the CIA Museum in Langley, Virginia. I've kept a picture of that letter in an archive of special mementos for the past nine years - at first because of the breathtaking symbolism of writing a note on Victory in Europe day, on the personal stationary of the very man that incited the need for a V-E day in the first place. But deeper than that, Mr. Helms perfectly captured the trifecta of personality traits that when possessed by a single person can induce unmeasurable pain and despair on entire populations - a thirst for power, a low opinion of man as an individual, and a fear of intellectual honesty. Mr. Helms's career in the CIA was not free of controversy and even today, his impact and policies remain debated and contentious. Rarely do simple encapsulations properly capture and reflect complex figures and complex times. Yet Mr. Helms's letter defies this phenomenon; I contend it is one of those exceedingly rare occurrences of a simple encapsulation perfectly capturing the root cause of a complex evil wrought on a complex world.

That's one companion down, let's shift gears to my second companion these recent nights - the whisky.

Loch Lomond 18 Year
Classification: Single Malt Scotch Whisky
Country: Scotland
Region: Highland (Alexandria: 55.994N, -4.577W)
Mash Bill: 100% Malted Barley
Strength: 46.0% ABV (92.0° Proof)
Color: Unknown
Filtration: Non-chill Filtered
Maturation: 18 Years in American Oak
Price: $72.99 (ABC Fine Wine & Spirits)

tl;dr summary - An impulse inducing price tag for an eighteen year old malt that is ultimately enjoyable, but behaves like a whiskey a few years younger than its stated age. Calm peat accents a sherry/tidal pool vibe that sits alongside dried grass and a bit of caramel/toffee. A good, but not great whisky for your shelf whose price is its saving grace.

This Loch Lomond was an impulse purchase pure and simple. I was perusing a local store when I noticed the 18 year variant was marked down from it's lofty $89.99 all the way to $72.99. Typically, one can expect the price of an 18-year single malt to command three digits to left of its decimal point. I was instantly intrigued, but not automatically sold. When purchasing an unknown single malt, I scan the label for four criteria - strength (ideally something > 43%), filtration (non-chill filtered please), natural color (highly desired, but not a deal breaker), and an age statement (only consistently good reviews can overcome the absence of an age). Satisfying three of the four wishes combined with an enticing price meant the malt was whisked away and added to the tasting rotation.

Some post-purchase research relayed a few interesting tidbits about the Loch Lomond distillery. Loch Lomond produces their single malt scotch using both traditional copper pot stills and the so-called 'Long' stills which are copper pot stills whose necks contain rectification plates, similar to what you'd find in a column still. Another fascinating tidbit is Loch Lomond uses a myriad of different yeasts during fermentation - including two wine yeasts (French chardonnay and French sauvignon blanc). The different yeast fermentations are kept separate through distillation and blended only after maturation is complete. Floral, light, and grassy are the typical characteristics of a spirit produced by a Long still and as you'll see below, I would certainly concur.

Nose
A very interesting nose - first impression is of a salty tidal pool. A whisp of peat emerges shortly after, followed by a nice sherry sweetness. After adding a touch of water, a dry hay/grass note emerges as does barley sugar and even a bit of toffee.

Taste
The taste is less interesting than the nose - sipped neat, there is an alcohol punch and prickle that borders on harsh. A bit surprising given its age, but a splash of water calms the harshness completely. Peat, some baking spices, particularly cinnamon emerge and that sherry note lingers throughout the taste. The tidal pool note is not present, but what is present is a bit of band-aid/iodine/rubbery note. It is reminiscent of a sherried malt which is quite odd because I do not believe Loch Lomond uses any ex-sherry barrels in their maturation.

Finish
Oak and peat jump out and are the boldest components of the finish, I'd say 85% oak to 15% peat. This is not an Islay peat bomb by any measure, but the peat is there. There is a toffee/brown sugar aspect to the tail-end of the finish that is quite enjoyable. Some grape fruitiness as well, but a whisper, not a shout. Overall I'd classify the finish's duration as medium, leaning towards short. I'd expect a longer finish given the strength and age, but it is what it is as they say.

Overall
If I were to taste this whisky blind, I'd swear there was ex-sherry maturation involved, but alas, there is none. Loch Lomond uses exclusively ex-American oak, none of which ever held any wine. Internet sleuthing indicates it's Loch Lomond's mixture of yeast types as well as still variations that produce these varied impressions, which is quite remarkable.

How does this malt stack up for me? On the negative side, the whisky has more alcohol harshness than I would expect from an 18-year old malt and likewise, the finish is shorter than I would expect from a whisky this old and bottled at 46% ABV. On the positive side, a small addition of water resolves the alcohol harshness. The aroma of the whisky is quite enjoyable and unique, a mixture of peat, seashore, and hay, and last but certainly not least, it's value cannot be beat. You will be hard pressed to find an 18-year single malt for less.

Would I purchase a second bottle? Not for the typical un-discounted $90 retail prices I've seen. But the good news is that the 18-year is seemingly perpetually on sale in the $75 range. I won't purchase a second bottle straight away before I finish the bottle I have on hand, but I certainly see myself picking up a second bottle at some point in the future. It is a solid pour to have when you are craving a bit of peat but don't want an Islay bomb or when you are craving a bit of fruity heaviness but don't want a sherry bomb.

I have a long lineup of tastings in the hopper at the moment. Who knows what fun detour we'll take in future posts, perhaps an in-depth discussion of America's Cup yacht design evolution or yet another chapter in my on-going life's opus: Magnum P.I. - The 9th Season We All Deserve: Requiem for The Lads.

Stay safe everyone.