The arrival of the Glasgow Rare & Old Show last February was a welcome tonic for whisky enthusiasts north of the border. It felt only apt that the home of whisky should play host to an event that celebrated the vast range of whiskies Scotland and other countries have provided us with.

Everything nowadays is focused around London as it’s more convenient and accessible in general – not just whisky – although such factors don’t necessarily equate to it being superior. Speaking of which, the event organisers would admit not everything was perfect with the 2017 incarnation. For a first stab at an event north of the border it was a successful experience and I left fairly satisfied and more appreciative of whiskies in general. Plus there was a very memorable Masterclass Rare & Old 101 with a stunning array of whiskies.

Prior to the show there were various commentators criticising the entry fee and 1cl pours. Speaking to some of these negative voices, post-show their attitudes had somewhat changed upon reflection. Arguably realising that their pride had prevented a treasure-filled whisky nirvana of delights and experiences, they looked ahead to the 2018 incarnation and redemption. My own recollections were that 1cl can work with the correct glassware (not a Glencairn) and it was more rewarding as a social event with friends from further afield than just the UK. Since last February, the benchmark has been raised again with the Whiskybase Gathering show in Rotterdam. This successful Dutch event has given me food for thought with a cheaper entry fee, a real sense of community and 2cl measures. It felt, well, that’s the thing – it’s difficult to put into words. The Gathering experience was more organic, relaxed and an enriching celebration. The Rare & Old show had more of a stuffy – for want of a better word – or formal vibe, no doubt enhanced by its plush surroundings. Whereas the Gathering was in an old industrial building that has been kitted out to host raves.

Still, I really enjoyed my Glasgow experience. All set for the sequel then huh? In reality yes, but then there was the change in ticket price, which dropped the starter pack of tokens in favour of a buffet. This seemed like an odd decision but was apparently driven by feedback. The decision for whatever reason was enough to prompt those critics to resurrect their concerns. Being set in the middle of Glasgow, food is never far from the venue so it felt a bizarre choice. I guess some attendees are on a very limited budget and it’s easy to overlook this if you’re jetting in from afar. Having a clutch of starter tokens may have been a psychological boost for some. At least for 2018 the whole token dynamic was ditched in favour of a cash-only approach with some stalls actually accepting card payment. With some whiskies fetching £200 for 1cl it does seem like the future.

For the record I didn’t immediately snap up a 2018 ticket once they went on sale. There are so many other whiskies out there that you have to budget for releases and trips up to Sutherland. However, a windfall with an old Spacemen 3 t-shirt meant that the entry ticket had essentially become a freebie. Not can you give me a free-entry-freebie but a quick PayPal deposit and within seconds I had purchased a ticket.

All of this turned the wheels inside my head. I know from my recollections of the 2017 Rare Old Show that it’s a great experience to try some illustrious and legendary whiskies for a fee. That’s a given. How about for those on a limited budget that have already splashed out on the £75 ticket price and walk in with just £50 for an afternoon of whisky? The silent majority. They could, in theory, visit the famous Pot Still bar nearby and have an excellent few hours with £50 and a bunch of strangers, or they could take a chance and step into the Rare & Old realm. Thus motivation acquired, I’m doing the 2018 incarnation on a budget for you.

To last the afternoon at the show, I’ll just be spending £50 at the stalls. This probably won’t go down well with the organisers or vendors, however, I feel it’s a different tact to show it’s possible to enjoy such a show without having to save up for months in advance. Potentially I could mix things up and have a couple of attractive whiskies by some lesser unknowns. My own preference is to sink right to the bottom and discover what hidden gems are being overlooked and ignored in favour of the bright lights of the closed ranks and legendary bottlings. We’re going to have a wee bit of fun and save some cash – what’s wrong with that? It’ll prove hopefully that you too can attend a show such as this without destroying your bank balance.

Introduction completed. Let’s jump ahead to the Saturday 24th February. Yes, that’s the same day as Scotland were playing England in the rugby. Maybe the Sunday show might have been a better option? A slight error with the weekend choice? Potentially, but with bottles being scarce you could miss out on something special…

Initial word of advice. Ditch the standard glass you’re given at the door. This is purely only good for sizeable measures and in this hall of 1cl pours you have to change tact. This means the 1920’s blenders glass that works better with minute measures and amplifies the aroma and character of the whisky. There were more tables this year to sit at but these were constantly full meaning you had to often move away from the main hall for a seat or leave your bag – German beach towel style – occupying a space whilst you grabbed another dram. Not ideal, but thankfully when I attended on the Saturday, the event wasn’t a sell-out so there was more space to move around in.

Outline done. Let’s kick off with our £50 budget spree that did last me most of the day quite easily. Events like this there is a large proportion of socialising to be done with friends new and old appearing on a constant basis. We kick off with a classic blend in the form of a 1960’s Cutty Sark from the Fiddler’s Loch Ness. The nose has plenty of character with toffee, orange peel, roasted coffee beans and chocolate with a malty vibe. On the palate it’s light and wholesome with more milk chocolate, orange and the grain comes through towards the end. That’s £3 down and a nice warm-up piece. In fact, the Fiddler’s has some great value drams we plump for a 10 year old Mortlach Scottish Wildlife bottling from Signatory. This is a different beast from Dufftown sherry releases we all fondly chase annually. Light and zesty on the nose with delicate vanilla pod you’d never pick it out as a Mortlach. The palate is timid with a gentle caramel, white grapes making for a pleasant sipper with a drying finish. Price again £3.

We’re moving over to the Whisky-online auction stand for a taste of a historical Deanston when it was bottled in the 1970’s as Deanston Mill. Yes, always a favourite of mine it’s good to see others are catching onto this up and coming distillery. More blending fodder or white label Bannockburn back then, just £3 again for a malty whisky upon nosing with delicate floral and perfume notes and a touch of white pepper. On the palate more of that floral aspect followed by lemon sponge, vanilla, marzipan with an oily nature and cask char on the finish. That’s another £3 spent wisely. Where next? It’d be rude not to visit the Whisky Show stand and depart for another era. A whisky that’s hard to ignore for just £7 is a pre-1914 Finest Scotch Whisky from B.McMillan of Dundee – possibly the last great thing to come out of Dundee? The nose is surprisingly fragrant given the low level of the bottle – which was finished off soon afterwards – with apple pie, pears, pine nuts and raisins with a touch of smoke. The palate is very gentle and distinguished with apple, caramel and a herbal nature.

While we’re at this stand let’s check out a constant favourite at Malt in the form of Caol Ila. About time we had a pre-demolition whisky from this distillery that was bulldozed and rebuilt in the early 1970’s. For £7 we’re helping ourselves to a 1969 Caol Ila from the Connoisseurs Choice range. Jonny suggests that this is a different style to the whiskies we associate from this distillery today. All I know is we’ve jumped into the £20 bracket as we touch upon half way on our spending. There’s a different type of peat from this Caol Ila on the nose. More herbal in nature and less coastal with black tea and resin with that traditional Gordon & MacPhail taint or style this range delivers. The palate offers more gentle peat, black tea, liquorice and vanilla with cinnamon. A whisky for deep thought before it’s time to move on again.

Diageo had a small assortment of whiskies on their stall. It’s an odd corner as you’d expect such a huge corporation to bring a wide range of goodies. Instead, the 1947 Johnnie Walker acquired from Argentina seems a good place to pause given it’s just £5. Ah, perhaps the blend should be first on the list? Perhaps but I’ve always recalled these old Johnnie Walker’s to possess more body and gusto that today’s equivalent. The nose is dusty reflecting its opening today and lower fill level, but there’s still a vibrancy with oranges, juicy fruits with coffee beans and a herbal note. The taste has a light diesel nature and enjoyable texture. More coffee notes and burnt vanilla cream with delicate notes of basil and thyme.

Time to make this around £30 on the budget. There are plenty of £1 and £2 offerings but I’m tempted by the Malts of Scotland range given that 28 year old Tormore in 2017. The 1995 Malt of Scotland Benrinnes 20 year old seems like a perfect midway point. At £2 the aromas are strong and thick with wood varnish, vanilla, mushroom, crème caramel, roasted coffee beans and a metallic tint. The palate is more fruity than the nose suggests with an oily texture, allspice, cardamom, rubber and toffee.

A £5 oddity treat on the Whisky Auctioneer stand and a lightly peated whisky distillate you’ve probably never heard of before known as Dunglass. It was an experimental style produced at the closed Littlemill distillery in the 1960’s for a year or so. Just a handful of bottlings exist – all independent – as the stock exclusively went into blends. This is a first even for me. The Dunglass 1967 The Animals Moon Import nose is nutty with orange peel and a faded peat with an odd perfume aspect. The palate confirms the issue. It’s soapy but not full on like the Blair Athol Manager’s Dram that did taste like a bar of soap. Almost peat soap with a peppery aspect and a gentle aspect. Perhaps this was when Littlemill was churning out any old rubbish, but it’s another notch in the book of whisky experiences.

Now I did make a promise to a friend on Instagram (@fromwhereidram) that I’d sit down with a Bruichladdich at the show. There are multiple choices however I’m always drawn to the pre-closure efforts of the distillery – basically before Jim turned up and got his hands on the production side of things and the quality suffered. Oddly it represents the big purchase on our budget of £8 over at the Whisky Show stand again. The Bruichladdich 10 year old Moon Export is bottled at 54% and being from the 1980’s would feature 1970’s distillate. Again, there’s a nuttiness, caramels and a touch of smoke that’s more prominent in these old Bruichladdich’s. Worn books, walnuts, a touch of cherry menthol and very wood driven. The plate again features that wisp of smoke, honeycomb, toffee, figs, tobacco, blackberries, caramelised apples resulting in a simple and pleasurable balance.

By my reckoning we have just £7 left to spend and a whole realm of whiskies are left at our disposal. There’s a clutch from Chichibu or a fantastic 21 year old Strathisla, but we’ll save those for other reviews. Instead it’s over to Michiel’s stand and a 1974 North Port (Brechin) Sestante, bottled at 15 years of age and residing in sherrywood. The nose is oily with lemon peel, peaches, lychees, Kiwi fruit and apricots. The palate offers more sherry influence with hazelnuts, praline, toffee, vanilla pod, brown toast and caramel wafers.

This brings our £50 spree to an end with £1 to spare, which I could have spent on several other options but it felt right to step away from the mission and meet old and new friends including guys from the San Francisco Whisky Club, but what of the event itself?

Conclusions

As much as I enjoyed the event this year and showed it’s possible to have a great experience on a modest budget, this doesn’t detract from the costly nature of the event itself. The venue brings nothing to the experience and arguably only inflates the cost. It’s a soulless empty room, adding to the stuffy feel and the £75 entry fee is too much. Charging this at the door can limit the spending power or desire to open a wallet inside. Empower the attendee with a reasonable ticket price and they’ll feel more willing to unleash their hard earned cash across the vendors.

The offer of a buffet this year was a disappointment – even more so after tasting it – with overcooked pasta, new potatoes with herbs, some cold options and little lasagne dishes. It was substandard for an event which deems itself to be prestige and somewhat taking the ££ piss. In reality, I actually had a better lunch during the 2017 event by going downstairs to the bistro for a hearty soup and fresh sandwich for under £10. The stodge served up instead meant I left my plate unfinished and departed quickly back to the event hall. Apparently the buffet was only open for a certain period and some attendees were surprised to discover it was closed when they ventured along the corridor later in the afternoon. Unfortunate if so and an oversight if it was only open for a certain period as this was not communicated, as far as I’m aware.

The minor details were also missing such as the cloakroom being open during the key hours just after arrival. Thankfully there were more tables this year but these weren’t enough and some attendees were left to prop themselves against sofa’s or hang around tables. Far from ideal. Then the lack of signage upon arriving at the hotel – I only knew where to go from attending in 2017 but the theme continued with aspects such as finding the buffet. Located at the end of a long corridor and through a door that was not highlighted. I’m sure some attendees may have wandered into the champagne bar by mistake! However, the staff were always to hand and very friendly. I felt that the 2018 Masterclasses were generally excessively priced without a full range of whiskies during each option to warrant the entry fee. Only the Scotch Malt Whisky Society offering on the Sunday attracted my interest but this was on the wrong day…

Last year we did have some exclusive show bottles that remained on the shelves due to the pricing strategy. This year the shop was more of a Whisky Exchange old and rare offering with very few show bottlings despite the website claiming these would be revealed nearer the time. Yes, Berry Bros had an interesting Ardmore for £120, or the Whisky Show offering of a 42 year old Benriach for £750. The prices were excessive at the shop and the best sellers seemed to be the 1cl sample bottles (25p) and the 1920’s professional blender’s glass. In general, I also felt the social media aspect was lacking. Very little information online and despite asking a question via Twitter earlier in the week, I did not receive a response regarding my glassware query. On Malt if you make a comment or ask a question its automatically emailed to the author who can respond directly below. Despite the team here having day jobs we manage to respond in a timely fashion, which begs the question…

Yes, in general the online aspect was disappointing. The website itself is a shell of 2017 and the guests of the show page still suggests more details coming soon as does the show bottlings page. If you’re not going to support a function or offer content then please just remove it. Otherwise it’s misleading.

After a successful start in 2017, the 2018 incarnation feels like the team has rested upon its laurels. Whether that’s an oversight, laziness or just pure greed I’ll leave down to you. In reality, it’s probably a mixture of everything, yet the chance to build and develop the show has somewhat stalled this year. No doubt I’ll be back in 2019 for further whiskies and meeting familiar faces, however, more work needs to be done to fully capitalise on its potential. For a more thoroughly enjoyable whisky experience, I’d still recommend the Whiskybase Gathering wholeheartedly as the better experience for the vendors and attendees. Yes, I know the Whiskybase team personally – full disclosure on Malt as always – but I was blown away by the whole event and it was a celebration of whisky. Whereas the Old & Rare Show feels more like a stuffy, genteel old friends club for a select audience. Still, let’s remain positive as its fantastic to actually have an event such as this in Scotland and hopefully audience feedback will prompt several desirable improvements.

Following on from the Whisky and Women piece which recently appeared on Malt, I was emailed by Story PR, working on behalf of Diageo, with the press release for Jane Walker and an invitation to ask any questions. So I did.

I only had four questions (I’m no Dimbleby) and they were fairly straightforward. In addition, I also let the PR company know in advance that their responses might be used in a follow-up piece. So there’s no issue with posting them here. I’m not going to paraphrase; these were their responses – a simple cut and paste job – which can be attributed to a Johnnie Walker spokesperson.

Q: According to your press release, “Elizabeth Walker, the wife of founder John Walker, was also fundamental to the creation of their own blended whisky”. So why wasn’t the whisky named after her?

A: We want to tell the stories of the women in this industry and celebrate them and those enjoying our whiskies every day around the world – Jane Walker gives us another opportunity to do so. The campaign is about giving Jane Walker her own recognizable identity vs commemorating and celebrating a particular individual from our brand history.

Q: Who is Jane Walker? Does/did she even exist as someone fundamental to the whisky industry?

A: Jane Walker is the first-ever female interpretation of our brand’s iconic logo – she is a fictional creation who enables us to tell the stories of the women in this industry and celebrate them and those enjoying our whiskies every day around the world.

Q: Why does the name Jane Walker appear as some kind of subtext on the label?

A: Jane Walker appears as the special edition name on our label. We wanted to be clear that this special edition pack contains exactly the same Johnnie Walker Black Label that people across the world already enjoy.

Q: If Diageo sells all of the 250,000 bottles, it will donate $250,000 to women’s causes. What does it plan to do with the other $8,250,000 generated from those sales?

A: Johnnie Walker has committed $1 for every bottle produced of the Jane Walker Edition up to $250,000 to support various organisations which champion women’s causes. In addition to this work, Diageo is proud to contribute to very many worthwhile organisations across the globe, including those which support female empowerment. For background, you can find out more here.

Justine: This reminds me a little bit of when I used to conduct French-speaking assessments with students. Some of them had worked so hard to learn their responses off by heart that the question almost became irrelevant. They were so determined to say what they had learned that it didn’t really matter whether they understood the question or not, or, indeed, whether they even answered it. These are indeed responses, comments, words but certainly not answers. I, for one, don’t feel that I’m any the wiser for reading their reply. Which is a shame as I was hoping that someone would have taken this opportunity to try to change my mind about Jane Walker.

However, I stand by my original opinion and maintain that this is still pish.

Diageo is a business and, of course, the main aim of a business is to make money. Diageo is no exception. In addition, a corporation doesn’t have any legal obligations to donate any money at all to good causes. Once again, Diageo is no exception; yet it chooses to do so. Only the most cynical of old boots (and, contrary to popular belief, I’m not quite at that level yet) would see this as anything less than commendable. So, I don’t have an issue with either of those concepts. My main issue is that releasing a special edition whisky which is a female interpretation of our brand’s iconic logo is clumsy, undermining, and, as a result, just a tad insulting. Why?

Firstly, because of the original motive behind it. According to Stephanie Jacoby, “Scotch as a category is seen as particularly intimidating by women, and it’s a really exciting opportunity to invite women into the brand. ” Why does this annoy me? Well, it’s a bit like saying that dark alleys are intimidating. Let’s face it: dark alleys, in themselves, are just fine. It’s the thought of who or what might be lurking in them which is intimidating. Renaming the alley wouldn’t address the real issue. For me, language is everything and had Ms Jacoby stated that Scotch as an industry has been particularly intimidating to women, I may have had a greater appreciation of the intention.

Secondly, because Jane Walker isn’t real. According to Ms Jacoby, “the inspiration came from this idea of the role of female icons in culture.” So, why not use them? Honestly, if we’re talking about female icons in culture, I think I would’ve been happier had Diageo released a series of five special editions with the Spice Girls on rather than this. Or take a leaf out of Adelphi’s PR book for their recent Winter Queen release. A fictional character just seems to undermine that original inspiration.

A bit of backtracking later and there’s been the suggestion that the somewhat negative reaction has all been due to a misunderstanding. If you’re throwing the megabucks, that Diageo must throw, at marketing campaigns, surely ensuring that people understand the message is a prerequisite? I’d say, as marketing goes, it’s just a bit shabby if the intention has been misunderstood by virtually everyone. The thing is, as John Marshall aka Whisky Apocalypse, has suggested, this reaction is all publicity; the bottles will sell and approximately 249,950 of these special edition bottlings will be snapped up by collectors. I’m looking forward to seeing how much they fetch on the whisky auction sites. But that’s a whole different issue…

Only Cadenhead’s would have the audacity and stocks to throw together a trio of Islay whiskies as a vatting experiment and then forget it about it for a while. Compromising of only Ardbeg, Bowmore and Caol Ila on paper it’s truly an experiment rather than the primary school attempts from Glenfiddich.

Back in 2004 or prior, the Cadenhead team put this malt trio together with the intention of making it available to shop visitors. Things being like they are in Campbeltown, time passed and the cask languished until 2013 when Mark Watt and his team decided to put the contents into a sherry hogshead prior to its release in 2017. When it’s long overdue arrival finally landed it was part of the Cadenhead’s Creations range.

The emphasis on blending and creation leads me to an overlooked book by Alfred Barnard enchantingly entitled How to Blend Scotch Whisky. The last entry in his brief bibliography, the book itself was published in 1904 shortly after the Pattison’s whisky crisis that brought turmoil to the Scotch industry and severely hampered its reputation in the eyes of the public. The book itself is a rather modest short-lived affair and is little more than a promotional gambit for blending powerhouse Mackie & Company; a forerunner of White Horse distillers. The book itself was republished just over a decade ago and was kindly loaned to me by Francis of Daftmill distillery fame. Not that he’s looking into creating his own blend, but it is informative to look back as well as forward nowadays.

A large proportion of the book focuses on the trio of distilleries Lagavulin, Laphroaig and Craig-Ellachie. Of these 2 fall into the Mackie ownership stable whilst more famously he was the agent for Laphroaig; Peter Mackie actively pursued the iconic distillery with several attempts to purchase this distinctive producer. His continued failure and escalating bad feud with the distillery eventually led to the establishment of Malt Mill, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves here. Instead let’s focus on some of the pearls of wisdom that Alfred Barnard outlines when it comes to creating your own blend…

A high-class blend cannot be made out of inferior whiskies

This is true in many regards although if you’re fortunate enough to explore old blends there’s a general sense of a greater range of stock to create your own concoction.

Age is the first essential in Scotch whisky

I can hear Mark groaning at this statement but it’s one that the industry was quite happy to peddle us for generations. Now all of a sudden age doesn’t matter? Of course it does to a certain extent; don’t believe the marketing and PR machinery.

The Scotch manufacturer makes a cleaner and better article than can be obtained in any foreign country

Undoubtedly this was once the case but as you’ve seen on Malt during our 2018 excursions abroad the times are changing.

Lowland malts alone, without Highland whiskies, would be of little use; the best makes are useful as padding

Clearly Alfred was already aware of the lacklustre performance of Auchentoshan and Glenkinchie and dismissed their brethren. A Lowland blend isn’t something that screams big seller either and we’re still waiting for that Auchentoshan – excluding the distillery bottle your own – to truly lift our spirits, or a Glenkinchie that restores our faith.

Grain spirit, with age, is useful for keeping down the price, and if used in moderate quantity is perfectly wholesome

Nowadays many blends are dominated by the industrial taint of grain whisky. We enjoy a grain here at Malt but the young stuff keeps costs low and delivers an unpleasant taste. Alfred also states that only 3 or 4 grain makes are of sufficient quality to be used in first-class blends. Sadly he doesn’t name those he prefers although our money is on some of the lost grain distilleries that offered a degree of flavour sadly missing today. Yes Girvan, I’m looking at you.

In bonding, it is false economy to fill bad casks

This is truer than ever today and arguably more identifiable.

The Creation we have here from Cadenhead’s on paper I’m sure would have met with Alfred’s approval. The Creations Range is the genesis of the team in Campbeltown and that sweetie factory mentality of running amok and letting your imagination go ballistic.

Cadenhead’s Robust Smoky Embers Blend Batch #3 – review

Colour: a beautiful liquid gold.

On the nose: yes there’s smoke but there’s a joyous sweet incense to the smog. A rich molten caramel, honey glazed ham and a medicinal aspect. Balance, poise and utter style with an Islay hybrid that is greater than the sum of its parts.

In the mouth: insane on the palate with a barrage of flavours that flow effortlessly and leave you gasping for air as the gentle smoky finish just lingers. Right, let’s try. Walnuts, cardamon, ginger root, marzipan, chocolate, pomegranate, bacon fat, black pepper and a salty brine tinge.

Conclusions

A triumph and a future classic. Only Cadenhead’s would have the audacity to try something like this and we reap the rewards. A touch stronger and I may have been moved enough to go up a notch. Overall, I think Alfred would have approved wholeheartedly as well.

Score: 8/10

Thanks to Conor for the sample! This will allow me to open my recently secured bottle for a future London tasting. Also thanks to Aeneas for the photograph.

How much is it nowadays for an enjoyable whisky? Prices are rising like any other household bill and details regarding the contents are getting thin on the ground. The days of a bargain seem like a distant memory although there are still some delights waiting to be discovered.

The Kilkerran or Glengyle distillery is one that’s already familiar to enthusiasts. With its work in progress series the bar was reset annually until the Kilkerran 12 year old confirmed its benchmark, but let’s not forget about the excellent Kilkerran 8 year old. The general message is that everything coming out of the Glengyle distillery has character and is affordably priced. It’s a distillery revived by the people, for the people.

Yes, I know here at Malt I’m rather fortunate with some of the whiskies I sit down with. These are often my own purchases or given to me by generous friends, then on the rare occasion, the industry sends on a sample. If you’re a regular then you’ll know such a freebie is no guarantee of a good review as seen in our recent Bladnoch Bicentennial 29 year old article. Point being, sometimes I just want to sit down with a whisky that requires little investigation and doesn’t divert the disposable cash flow. A whisky that offers just enough interest and experience… so I give you the Mitchell’s Glengyle Blend.

Casting back my fading memory, this bargain whisky was priced around £23 at the Edinburgh Cadenhead’s store. It comprises of 40% single malt taken from within Campbeltown – Scotland’s whisky capital and the remainder being sourced from grain whiskies elsewhere in Scotland. That’s a good malt to grain ratio, but I’d love to see the comparisons with the big brands such as Grouse, Whyte & Mackay, Bells etc. They tend to keep their ratios secret but you can check up on this quite easily by sitting down with bottlings from bygone decades. The taint of industrial grain – and I’m not dissing grain whisky here as we’re big fans – has grown to a point that the whisky is no longer pleasant. It keeps costs low and we shouldn’t ignore the juvenile malt that goes into such blends today. It’ll be comprised of youthful whisky, matured in average at best casks, or to quote Mark 4th fill rubbish. Ultimately this leads me to the conclusion that good value blends below £25 are becoming increasingly scarce.

The true marker of a good blend is when you sit down one evening and reach for bottle and suddenly wonder how the fill level has dropped so dramatically. We’re halfway through the bottle here without much recollection. It’s an easy-drinking whisky with no thrills. So, I should put all that liquid to good use with some tastings notes.

Mitchell’s Glengyle Blended whisky – review

Colour: there’s little colour to speak of, maybe a light honey.

On the nose: a freshness of lemon and vanilla, followed by the pleasing aroma of freshly baked shortbread then charred sourdough toast. There’s a slight oiliness, green olives and a touch of smoke as well. The longer you leave the whisky in the glass the more the smoke comes through and a touch of paraffin wax.

In the mouth: simple and pleasurable with the light floral nature of the grain whisky utilised coming through towards the end and onto the finish. Returning there are apples and an under-ripe pear with icing sugar. Again that paraffin wax note comes through with barley sweets, pear drops, a delicate vanilla and the green tips of spring onions.

Conclusions

No complaints here for the price demanded and the experience received, its a fair transaction on both sides. A solid whisky for your drinks cupboard and leaves you relatively intact to splash out on something a little more expensive later in the month.

Score: 5/10

Our thanks to Abbey Whisky for the lead image.

The annals of whisky are littered with blended Scotches and brands that have not stood the test of time. These historical oddities may still be trademarked and owned within a dusty ledger, stashed on the bottom shelf at a corporate HQ. This is their current unglamorous existence, but during their prime, bottles were produced and whisky recipes developed with blended whiskies being more popular than today’s focus on single malts. Even today they represent the backbone of the Scotch whisky industry as we know it, but the blends that remain have changed and not for the better as Adam discussed during his Why Modern Cheap Blends Are Mostly Totally Rubbish article.

The names have faded from memory and all that remains are the adverts and glass vessels with precious capsules of liquid. For many years I just collected and enjoyed blended whiskies. They did and still do represent great value on the secondary market. Just because you don’t know – or never will – the component pieces of the whisky itself, doesn’t mean it’s not drinkable or thoroughly enjoyable.

In what may turn out to be an annual piece we’re going to explore a succession of lost blends or older versions of today’s equivalent you may see down the local supermarket. It’s also worth remembering whilst a blend may have faded from consciousness in the UK, it may still exist internationally as certain blends are now targeted at specific regional markets where they retain a degree of popularity.

The blends in the lead photograph here might not be in the reviews below just because. The infamous Old Guns isn’t one I should need to repeat featuring Port Ellen, but it does have some batch variation given the ones I’ve opened and experienced. For the record, the example in the photograph was an earlier bottling but lacked the power and punch of the Old Guns I reviewed for Malt last year. Batch variation remains an issue even in today’s computerised and efficient world of whisky. Then there are the subtle tricks of creating an initial batch full of character – and the good stuff – only to tactically withdraw slowly from this recipe on subsequent releases. As much as today or bygone decades, it is about capturing public attention through tasty whisky and promotional stunts.

Therefore its always worth exploring a blend across the decades if you can. You’ll also notice that many have regal links or fanciful names. Seemingly there are more kings within whisky than the timeline at the house of Windsor, then there are the fun names such as Big Boy and other styles that have you thinking really? The wording may proclaim the finest or lightest of whiskies are contained within. I’ve had some light old blends that are far from that. Indeed, they are vibrant, flavoursome and possess a caressing texture. As much as today’s marketing around loch monsters and ancient legends, ignore these fanciful statements and head to the contents themselves…

Ambassador Deluxe Scotch Whisky – review

Noted to be Scotch at its lightest, bottled by Taylor & Ferguson with a minimum age of 8 years within the blend. This sample kindly provided by Conor will be from the 1970’s to the early 1980’s.

Colour: syrup.

On the nose: pleasant with dried oranges, a light honey and sunflower oil. Almonds, apples and a waxiness with plenty of cereals with oats.

In the mouth: the oiliness comes through nicely with a relaxing cereal texture. Flashes of the dried orange again, but this is a fairly neutral blend albeit very drinkable.

Score: 5/10

Conclusions

I like this concoction for its simplicity. Over the course of an evening, I believe you could easily demolish a bottle and have harvested a reasonable amount of satisfaction without destroying your bank balance. Taylor & Ferguson were a subsidiary of Hiram Walker & Sons snapped up in the 1930’s. The main crown jewel in such a purchase was the popular Ambassador brand. Hiram aggressively purchased across the industry to establish its position including Scapa distillery in 1954 along with Glencadam, having already acquired Glenburgie, Miltonduff and its Dumbarton grain facility that played host to Inverleven. Balblair followed in 1969 and these distilleries were mainly engaged in supporting the Ballantine’s blend, which Ambassador Deluxe shares similarities with.

King Edward I Specially Selected Scotch Whisky – review

This is a 1970’s bottling of a long established blend. The 1960’s labelling was more simple before the imposing black labelling and thistles appeared. Bottled at 43% strength and thanks again to Conor for this sample.

Colour: it glows gold!

On the nose: amber and a really thick oozing honeycomb. Mace, cinnamon and vanilla essence are pleasing enough but there’s more here. Dried cranberries, leather notes and the sense of age and decay. Sweet tobacco, syrup and a fleeting touch of rubber.

In the mouth: interesting as the full-bodied nature of that nose doesn’t transfer. It’s more subtle with milk chocolate, orange segments, walnuts and those leathery notes again. Caramel on the finish but its fairly fleeting. Still, I’ll reach for another quite easily. Cloves, black pepper and goddam what is that? A wet hemp sack?

Score: 6/10

Conclusions

Really good stuff that doesn’t blow you away but has just enough character and substance. This was bottled by Clan Munro Whisky Limited, which is just another name owned by William Lawson Distillers Limited – who you may have heard of for their own finest blended and the William Lawson’s 12 year old. Historians will know that the company became owners of MacDuff distillery from 1972. Possibly there’s some of that distillery in here. Normally companies would purchase a producer who met their blending requirements so you never know. A very enjoyable blend nevertheless.

Kings James Blended Scotch Whisky – review

100% Scotch whiskies, bottled at 80% proof and imported/bottled by the American Distilling Company Inc. Thanks to Justine for the sample.

Colour: apple juice.

On the nose: it has presence despite the labelling suggesting its light. There is a robust structure here led by apricots and a new pinewood cabinet. A nuttiness, honey and vanilla then step up, the classic aromas of peeled apples and pear drops are here but subdued. Rosehip, a touch of varnish and a slight rubbed bronze metallic aspect. Still, lots going on here and promising.

In the mouth: first impression is the texture as its far from light. There’s a pleasing oily ooze to this vanilla and pear juice bonanza. Buttery popcorn, waxy apples and gooseberries all pass by rather pleasingly. It’s an ideal leisurely whisky with no harsh edges.

Score: 6/10

Conclusions

When looking into the parent company of this blend – William Whiteley & Company – the blends they supported at one time or another is bewildering numbering over a hundred. It was a complicated web they spun in terms of structure. King James was registered to Donald McGregor & Co. Limited who were also responsible for brands such as McGregor’s Perfection and Club Special. Whiteley has been somewhat overlooked in favour of Irving Haim, a rather colourful character who as a former bootlegger had with links to the American mafia. It’s these strong links to America that influenced many of the brands within the company to appeal to that specific market. They also owned Edradour distillery, so once again we may have some of that product within this blend and the texture does remind me a little of Edradour itself.

Old Glencrinan 12 year old – review

Apparently matured and bottled by the Glenfyne Distillery Company Limited, its a complex history but this brand and the relaunched Glen Crinan in France – note separate words – should not be confused. If we have a few hours we can go into the details – or maybe in the conclusion. Bottled at 43% strength.

Colour: walnut.

On the nose: very nice arrival with plenty of Speyside character and sherry influence. There’s an invocative roasted coffee beans presence, worn leather, ginger and dark chocolate. At the rear the fruits fight through this heavy blanket with tangerines and peaches.

In the mouth: not as dense in the mouth but a nice leisurely progression of flavours. Honeycomb, a touch of ginger and more of those oak spices. Walnuts with more chocolate memories and burnt vanilla. Figs, cherries and an old table with a decaying varnish.

Score: 7/10

Conclusions

The Old Glencrinan brings back memories of Tamdhu and its style – a guess on my part – but it has a really pleasant and enjoyable nature with just enough character to keep you interested, or the parent company does own Macallan and the Glenrothes as well. The fact it has an age statement on the label is reassuring and heralds from the boom time of the late 1970’s. Both Glencrinan and Glen Crinan are owned by Edrington and their forerunner Highland Distillers. What we have here is the more historical edition rather than the joint venture Glen Crinan that’s popular in France. There’s a pleasing amount of age in the bottle and a dusty sherry influence.

President De Luxe Scotch Whisky – review

Containing whiskies of a minimum age of 12 years old – the president wouldn’t be seen drinking NAS now would he – this was bottled by Macdonald Greenlees Limited formerly of Palmerston Place, Edinburgh. Their initial success came from the Old Parr brand and the company had strong links with Glendullan distillery, this De Luxe was bottled at 43% strength. Difficult to date this President bottle, as there are no tax seals but when you’re into blends you know to use other things most would simply overlook, such as a postcode. The alphanumeric type were introduced into the UK over an extended 15 year period commencing in 1959. This gives us our timeline of 1960’s or 1970’s given the bottle size and I’ve seen 80’s variations on the label that are slightly less impressive and drop the age statement emphasis.

Colour: very honeyed.

On the nose: more honey unsurprisingly but a pleasant inoffensive bouquet of almonds, vanilla and shortbread biscuits. Returning, lots of toffee now appearing with sunflower oil, apples and a touch of liquorice towards the end.

In the mouth: dried oranges, apricot and plenty of caramel with a little dusting of chocolate. There’s an uncouth element with cranberries and a slight sourness that brings more character to the experience with a nutty finish.

Conclusions

If this is Glendullan, then its very pleasant stuff and certainly has that appealing Speyside characteristic in abundance. It could also be from the original Glendullan distillery rather than the newer version that was built in 1972 and eventually took over completely – yet we’ll never know for sure. If you happened to join me on Instagram live when opening this you’ll have seen it had a pouring mechanism common in Latin America to prevent the bottle being reused. This was a bit of a pain to overcome as it had jammed but – as the Doors once said – break on through to the other side with a bit of brute force.

Score: 6/10

At the end of this, it’s fair to say that the standard has been above average particularly if you cast your memory back to a staple blend of today. Pitched against any of the above and they’d look somewhat out of place. There’s no noticeable grain element on the palate or a sense of industrial scale across any of these whiskies. They are of their period and all perfectly enjoyable and inoffensive, representing good value in today’s increasingly expensive Scotch realm.

Several of the Malt team have had a shot at building their own blend or whisky creation. You may have as well what with several distilleries now offering this as a unique experience such as Glengoyne. Last year during the Spirit of Speyside Festival we sat down in the former Manager’s manse overlooking Parkmore distillery for a similar experience.

The event was hosted by Dean of Murray McDavid fame and our table consisted of some of the finest minds outside of the whisky industry and also Mark the self-proclaimed soil whisperer. Sitting back and watching these devilish intellectuals at work was fascinating as well as entertaining. Reflecting upon the event a year later, the most memorable aspects were that everyone set out to create their own unique blend and even with a core set of materials the end results were vastly different.

A wee splash of a certain malt in theory you’d think would result in little change if any. Yet as in cooking the art of seasoning; detail is vital and the same can be said of creating a whisky. My own initial preference was to consider the grain and the quality thereof. Nowadays we endure some very dull and offensive grains. Industrial in size and often in taste. That distinctive metallic flavour can overstep the mark in a blend and disrupt that pleasurable harmony. The grain should offer the basis and foundation for the single malts to express themselves and interact with the drinker.

As the decades have rolled by, the need to keep costs down and profit margins sustainable has grown and grown. There are after all shareholders and investors to keep happy! The drinker comes further down the list and some would argue in a relegation dogfight. The iconic brands retain that sense of history and quality, but sadly dear reader as I’m sure you’re all too aware the quality has slipped. Adam laid out that scenario in Why Modern Cheap Blends Are Mostly Total Rubbish and he’s totally right for a change. It’s a view held by many including John Glasser and perhaps a component as to why Compost Box have become very successful. These luxurious and bespoke blends are now lavish productions and priced accordingly. However, a few decades ago they would have faced stiff competition from everyday blended whiskies.

Aged stock being limited nowadays or at least the line we’re fed. There are few companies who can engage in experimentation and create something totally unique. Thankfully the team at Cadenhead’s seem to be the source of much material. Recently I sat down with their epic Robust Smoky Embers Batch 3 release a vatting of Ardbeg, Bowmore and Caol Ila. The sheer madness of it all. Imagine taking casks of single malt – perfectly sellable individually – and then chucking them together to see the outcome. Ok, chucking perhaps doesn’t do it justice, but there’s a sense of trying the impossible and awaiting the outcome with glee. After all there’s plenty of Ardbeg on the market so why not do something different for a change…

The creation emphasis for this particular release comes actually from Edrington. The fine owners of Tamdhu, Macallan, Glenrothes and Highland Park. For whatever reason, they put together several casks of whisky from the aforementioned foursome along with Invergordon that transformed it into a blend. Some if not all of these casks were sold on, including Cadenhead’s as a recipient. If you have taken the Cadenhead’s Warehouse Tour in recent times then you’ll have had the option to experience a sister cask of this Creations release whereas this edition was released as Rich Fruity Sherry. They’ve gone so far as to more recently bottle another Creations release at a mighty 44 years of age featuring Glenfarclas, Glenlivet and Invergordon. Needless to say, it sold out promptly thanks to its age statement and an affordable price tag of circa £165.

With all these recent Creation releases I had forgotten about a generous sample of this previous 36 year old within my mountainous stash. Thanks to the guys at Cadenhead’s Edinburgh I believe for this probably back sometime in early 2017. The review is long overdue so let’s get on with it but first those release details. This Creation was distilled in 1980 before residing in 2 sherry butts for 36 years. Bottled at a pleasing 44.5% volume. To find a bottle now you’ll have to keep an eye on the cavalcade that is the secondary market, which does offer the wee bargain now and again if everyone is chasing that Macallan or Ardbeg.

Cadenhead’s Creations 1980 Rich Fruity Sherry – review

Colour: toffee.

On the nose: it’s always a throwaway line but Christmas cake it is. That intoxicating assortment of spices laced with dried fruit and assorted peelings. Laced with sherry influence as well. Homely, satisfying and moreish. Orange and lemon peel bring a citrus dimension before dried nuts appear, then cotton, vanilla and maple syrup.

In the mouth: sultry in a way, the sherry is there brooding, festering and orchestrating everything without taking centre stage. A little sunflower oil, toasted oats, blackberries, rolled tobacco and an approachable degree of lightness. Far from a sherry beast, it’s refined and engaging. Figs with a touch of clove takes us towards the finish and the end.

Conclusions

A realistic price for a fair experience. Nowadays such value transactions are increasingly rare in whisky. Truth be told and that’s what we do here at Malt. The sister cask on the Warehouse Tour has the slight edge, but it’s a close run sibling battle. The winner is ultimately the consumer.

Score: 7/10

Thanks to Abbey Whisky for the lead image.

You know the score. The holiday euphoria and sense of escape for a few days or even a week if you’re lucky, which seeps into every pore. Airport travel retail takes full advantage of the enthusiasm and sense of freedom by offering whiskies that may seem interesting or good value except they’re anything but.

Over the years you learn the hard way that the airport lounge is no longer the domain of treasures or value. It merely offers the intoxicating possibilities of celebrating your shedding of the shackles of daily life. Why not celebrate with a wee dram eh? Experience guides us and depending on your final destination the airport option is best left alone. The true value nowadays seems to be in the countries that you visit. I still find it amazing that you can visit the good old United States of American and pay less for a bottle than if you were standing in any Scottish shop or the distillery itself.

Perhaps the impending trade war with tit for tat taxes will address the issue. Matter of fact the whole issue of taxation of whisky is an article in its own right. For the record, I applaud the Scottish Government for bringing in a minimum alcohol pricing strategy and shame on the Scotch Whisky Association for tarnishing the image of this fine liquid we all love by engaging in political skulduggery. Assisted by the large corporations who happen to make most of the cider, vodka and other spirits that you see causing issues across our society.

Landing at our destination. The need for a whisky still exists. If you’re organised then the luggage will contain a Glencairn as a suitable vessel. Try as much as I leave these glasses dotted across various rental properties in Europe and beyond, I’ve yet to visit an establishment outside the UK that offers them as a standard glassware option. Please let’s not talk about tumblers.

A recent escape to Malta for a week brought about the scenario again. No I didn’t book it on the basis it had Malt in the name although it did cross my mind at the time. Safely navigating the whisky shelves I took a chance on the local shops offering better value Scotch. I’m many things but not a sadist, still the prospect of some obscure badly labelled finest Scotch whisky blend called Big Jim’s Freedom in a rose coloured bottle would be a compelling purchase. More often than not these trips to foreign climates showcase the popularity of Glen Grant and the Chivas 12 year old. There was a long lost friend in the form of a White Horse blended Scotch but sadly it has been in terminal decline since the 1980’s. Then something else caught my attention. Reaching for the phone I revisited MALT in Malta. Checking the various Johnnie Walker reviews we had in situ it seemed an opportunity had presented itself…

Wherever you go in life there are a few guarantees or things you can rely upon. A lack of Irn Bru outside of Scotland is certainly on the list as is the presence of the Glenfiddich 12 year old on every shelf alongside a release from Johnnie Walker and Alexandra stalking your every move. In this case, it was the Blenders’ Batch Red Rye Finish Blended Scotch Whisky – try saying that after a couple of drams. This being batch number 1 and bottle number RR2 586659 for the record. Priced at 19 Euros there was nothing to lose whatsoever. Prompting my better half to add the bottle to our random assortment of supplies the deed was done.

Returning back to the apartment the seal didn’t last too long. I actually needed a drink to digest the blurb on the rear of the packaging. This is an insight into our endless quest for new flavours. Ok, I’ve never associated Johnnie Walker with pushing boundaries but I’ll stick with it for now. Jim Beveridge the Master Blender for Johnnie Walker apparently has a fascination with the bold flavours of American whiskies. Right, so that’s vanilla, caramel and maybe more vanilla then? To lock down these characteristics the team ploughed through 50 experiments featuring 203 malt and grain whiskies. Mmm, this sounds like a Tormore4 weekend. Before hitting the jackpot with this release that comprises of just 4 whiskies. Oddly for the candid detail by Diageo standards they only name 2 of the distilleries. Cardhu is always a strong component of any Johnnie Walker and then we’re joined by the presence of the closed Port Dundas distillery. Cameronbridge will be in here guaranteed as they cannot give that stuff away.

Originally the concept was to go into more detail about the lost grain Port Dundas distillery that resided in Glasgow. Diageo didn’t treat it with much respect when then closed down the site and centralised its grain production at the behemoth Cameronbridge plant in Fife. There’s a sense of irony when the executioner uses the name of the fallen to add bling to a new concept. They didn’t care much for the distillery by giving it a range of its own until after the tombstone was erected, or could it be that anything closed is hotly chased? Tip of the day. Port Dundas aged and in a sherry cask is a wonderful thing.

The final whisky itself is bottled at 40% strength, is a No Age Statement and will feature lots of caramel colouring plus it’ll be chill filtered to within a CL of its life. Realistically these things don’t matter at the lower end of the blended Scotch market. They are staple features but that doesn’t mean we should not highlight their existence. The whisky was matured in first fill bourbon casks before being finished in rye casks for a period of up to 6 months. Time then to see if this puts the malt back into Malta.

Johnnie Walker Select Casks Rye Cask Finish – review

Colour: a golden caramel what else eh?

On the nose: it’s grain Jim, but not as we know it. A generous helping of orange peel and ginger root in here. Green bananas as well alongside toffee and alight nuttiness. A synthetic quality best summarised as vanilla essence, It’s ok, just but fairly limited and youthful. My main memory is toasted vanilla marshmallows over a barbeque. Adding water plus time reveals more of a buttery marzipan and almond quality.

In the mouth: I feel the need to hijack one of those giant satellite dishes that point towards the skies in the vain hope of finding me some flavours. Vanilla, sanded pine wood and more of the orange and ginger. It’s drinkable but barely. There’s a noticeable rawness to the alcohol which screams under matured grain across a roadside giant billboard in giant letters. Casks filled at a higher strength that haven’t been given the time to settle and mature. Instead, it feels like its fighting an ongoing battle with the finish being especially uncouth. Water improves the experience with marzipan, gasoline and a touch of rubber.

Conclusions

The alarm bells were ringing prior to even trying this whisky so it is disappointing that things haven’t turned out for the best. What we have essentially here is Diageo using up a surplus of stock under the guise of the Johnnie Walker brand. Just 4 distilleries mean a simplistic recipe compared to the standard Red. However, the appeal of the Johnnie Walker Red has diminished in recent times as the grain ratio increases to become the dominant force.

The Johnnie Walker Red is the entry level Scotch in the sizeable brand armada. So it needs to appeal to everyone and tiptoe alongside accessibility and hold the hand of benign. The only reason why you stick a blended Scotch into casks to finish it for a very short period is to hide the fundamental flaws and provide a twist. That’s what the Scotch Malt Whisky Society do and a flaw of the monthly outturn model. Except here the intriguing twist with more time may have given us a talking piece.

Score: 3/10

Fashion exists within whisky. Producers aim to control trends and, if playing catch-up, they introduce a variety of releases that tap into the profile. Peat remains highly fashionable, especially anything from Islay. Bling is cool as well, sadly. Fancy tales and concepts also dominate the hit parade alongside the blockbuster brands like the Glenlivet, Glenfiddich and Macallan getting a bit edgy.

Except very little changes. Jura with its new branding, as we discovered in our Jura Journey review, had not moved the goalposts, merely repainted them. Eventually, the same chips and scuffs will reappear and then what? Time for another great idea or lick of paint.

Internally at MALT, we have team discussions. These mainly consist of Alexandra trying to bait me into a response or some argument as to who is the ultimate millennial hipster. Note for the record it seems Adam is in pole position. Fun exchanges that help keep things moving and a sense of unity. On occasion, we discuss possible features for the site or throw ideas out there and see how they’re received.

Such an idea was the MALT league table. A handy guide for what distilleries were floating our boat or sinking deep beneath the waves, destined to hit rock bottom and in our opinion to be avoided. A modern-day ‘staff recommends’ page. Forget all these cool brand ambassadors instructing you how great Master Distiller Concept XXII is and why. Instead, the table would underline in our opinion what’s worth keeping an eye out for. If you missed an earlier review – easily done given our daily format – then it could be a useful resource. The whole dynamic has potential but needs work. It taps into the fashionable aspect and the sense of what’s current.

All of which takes us onto the grotty distillery that is Ben Nevis. It’s not a looker or a charmer in the fashion stakes. Potentially it has a brand ambassador although the guilty party doesn’t spring to mind immediately. Then there’s the added baggage of being a not-so-fashionable Highland distillery.

Ask a tasting or group of enthusiasts what’s their favourite whisky region and you can guarantee the top 3 almost 100% of the time. It’ll be Islay, Speyside and Campbeltown. Peat plays a part in this as does the approachability of Speyside and its iconic distilleries. Lowland will rarely feature as until relatively recently the region was only represented by Auchentoshan and Glenkinchie. The nightmare of the school team selection springs to mind where you didn’t want to be the last person picked due to your inept football skills. Please pick me, I don’t want to be last or in play in goals. Auchentoshan and Glenkinchie would be available until the bitter end.

Trends are boring. Show me two routes and I’ll take the less travelled and more perilous journey. Ask me what is my favourite whisky region and the only answer will be the Highlands. Criminally overlooked and not as immediate as its countrymen, the Highlands with its rugged characteristics plays host to several divisive whiskies. The potential is huge if distilleries within this region capture the essence of their surroundings and dare to go it alone by giving us whiskies that enthral and challenge our comfortable existence.

Ben Nevis sits on the outskirts of Fort William near the foot of the United Kingdom’s highest mountain. A challenging environment and for anyone seeking to reach the banks of Fort William the drive is often eventful and blessed with some of Scotland’s most stunning scenery. The town itself reflects the weathered distillery with its glory years very much behind it as a destination. The legacy is evident along the waterfront with Victorian buildings and impressive stone structures. Fort William much like Oban has seen better days.

In total, the town has supported 3 distilleries during its existence with the Nevis departing in 1908 before being joined by the fabulous Glenlochy during the last whisky cull of the 1980’s. Whenever I think of the Highland region I picture Glenlochy with its red brick exterior that now houses residential accommodation. A rather difficult whisky that could literally be firewater or a more sublime and memorable experience. Now when I skirmish the outskirts of Fort William it is to turn north and head towards the Isle of Skye. Its hacienda days long behind it, but thankfully the Ben Nevis distillery refuses to die.

History shows us that the distillery has always been a bit of a renegade and content to do things its own way despite the rulebook of the Scotch Whisky Association. Take the ownership of Joseph Hobbs in the 1950’s who had a Coffey still installed so that the blending requirements could be more convenient. Going a step further they blended the distillate from all the stills prior to filling the casks. Presumably the reverse of what we see nowadays and removing the need for a Master Blender. Let’s not forget when the traditional Oregon pine washbacks were removed to only be replaced by concrete washbacks. Perhaps there’s something in the water prompting Ben Nevis to do things its own way?

The current Ben Nevis 10 year old is high on any MALT league table when it comes to value and quality. A strong contender for a staff pick of our whisky of 2018. It should attract new fans to the distillery assisted admirably be several recent releases from Cadenheads – who has struck gold with casks now reaching their prime at 20 years of age. The future of Ben Nevis is seemingly rosy and with this, in mind, we’ve pulled together some samples to take a tour of old and new releases. Some of which we’ve purchased samples from you know who…

Dew of Ben Nevis 12 – review

Colour: pear drops.

On the nose: poached pears with apples thrown in. A gentle and relaxing introduction with white grapes, bananas, jasmine, boiled mint sweets and icing sugar. There’s not much else in all honesty as its pleasant and inoffensive.

In the mouth: more vanilla that combines well with the pear and apple influence. It’s fairly limited and here the grain aspect is more noticeable towards the end. Prior to this there’s elements of lemon, mango and green bananas on the finish.

Score: 4/10

Coopers Choice Ben Nevis 1996 – review

Bottled at 17 years of age from cask #1317 at 46% strength, with an outturn of 320 bottles originally retailing for circa £70.

Colour: lemon peel.

On the nose: very buttery almost olive oil with a lemon twist and more of the greenish features of the previous whisky. It needs time. Then the orange chocolate notes seep through. A little ginger, almonds, roasted coffee and pineapple cubes. There’s almost a herbal note coming through right at the death.

In the mouth: pleasant, a touch of sweetness and smoke towards the finish. Refreshing. Very easy drinking but maybe not dynamic enough. Ripe pears, some banana, marzipan, white grapes and grapefruit. Perhaps snatched from the cask too early?

Score: 5/10

The Single Cask Ben Nevis 19 year old – review

Distilled in 1996 and bottled from cask #871, this produced just 86 bottles at £80 before selling out.

Colour: a light honey.

On the nose: stewed apples, icing sugar, a melon quality followed by pine cones and a fresh croissant. Wine gums, lemon and barley drops bring a sweetness. There’s an encouraging level of detail.

In the mouth: the complexity fails to land on the palate. It feels a little flat with lemon, overly ripe pears, sandalwood, candlewax and white chocolate.

Score: 5/10

Cadenheads Ben Nevis 21 year old – review

The Cadenhead release was distilled in 1996 before being bottled in 2017 at a strength of 51.1%. From a bourbon hogshead, this cask resulted in an outturn of 240 bottles.

Colour: lemon rind.

On the nose: fresh and vibrant, more youthful than you’d anticipate with citrus notes with mango, lemon, green olives and custard creams. Blackberries from the roadside, raw pastry dough and a raspberry sorbet take us in another direction. Speaking of which have you tried the cheddar cheese with apricots in it? A real crowd pleaser of a nose and not typical of this distillery.

In the mouth: thankfully the engaging nature continues. Very fruity with some cask char and apricot jam. Vanilla is in the mix but restrained with the juicy pears, lemon, grapefruit and Kiwi fruit stepping forth. A delightful creamy finish as well.

Score: 7/10

Cadenhead’s Ben Nevis 176th Anniversary – review

The jokingly dubbed 176th Anniversary bottling. An outturn of 174 bottles from a bourbon hogshead at 49.1% strength.

Colour: varnished pine.

On the nose: wine gums and coconut flakes with syrup. Then there’s fennel, apple juice, honeycomb and a twist of lime. More caramel comes through after time and a resinous feature alongside a stewed black tea.

In the mouth: pine cones and more of that resin. A touch of vanilla that moves aside for the lime and coffee beans on the finish.

Score: 7/10

Ben Nevis 2002 White Port Pipe – review

Bottled at 10 years of age from cask #334 at a strength of 56.4% that produced a stonking outturn of 710 bottles. Long gone sadly – will I regret not purchasing one?

Colour: chocolate orange.

On the nose: in a word rich. Quite ferocious initially. Tobacco, leather, red grapes, cranberries, apricot jam and hazelnuts. It’s fruity, with a certain dryness as well. Pecan pie, rhubarb and coffee beans. Maybe a flash of sulphur.

In the mouth: less defined and rugged but still pleasurable. It’s a melting pot of the above aromas with little hitting the headlines. I like it a lot though. Strawberry laces, walnuts, dark chocolate and damp wood. Cloves, ginger, aniseed and liquorice.

Score: 6/10

Conclusions

The Dew of Ben Nevis is entry level stuff, easy drinking and inoffensive. There is a lightness and simplicity that you wouldn’t normally associate with a Highland of whisky. Circa £29, I can think of whiskies that offer more at this price point or just go up a little more for the excellent 10 year old single malt. Both of the enjoyable Cadenhead releases are sister casks with the 176th edition requiring a little more work to appreciate fully. The remaining independent bottlings are solid enough without reaching such heights. Whilst the White Port is an oddity and a whisky that rewards patience and a playful inquisitive nature.

Overall, a solid selection and an assortment that holds promise. You’re left thinking about buying more of the official 10 year old whilst you can.

Lead image kindly provided by Abbey Whisky.

A recent foreign holiday combined with flights served to underline the slim pickings at travel retail. The days of a bargain are seemingly fewer and far between. We all love a deal and travellers more than most, with any interesting items eerily documented by empty spaces.

I often question the existence of travel exclusives. Their purpose and genesis. Most exclusives and concoctions are marketing spiel and arguably fill a price point or request from the retailer. Credit where its due however with this Grant’s Elementary Carbon for putting an age statement on the packaging. Just 6 years old. It may have you reeling with embarrassment and disdain but I personally find it rewarding. Give us more candid age statements and allow the consumer whether to make an informed purchase and ultimate judgement.

The Elementary range was launched in 2016 specifically for the travel retail market. Carbon forms the entry level release in the range and its principal aim was to highlight the science behind whisky making. The aim of showcasing various features would be to create more appreciation of their influence collectively on the finished product. Unsurprisingly Carbon focuses on charred casks, or in its cask heavily charred casks to mature its spirit for a minimum period of 6 years. There’s an attempt to highlight the science but its lukewarm and fairly tepid. As an onlooker with more interest, I would have appreciated an insert in the packaging about what the team had attempted and hoped to showcase. Even the Grant’s Carbon website is threadbare. A missed opportunity and potentially highlights that the concept of carbon was forced to the front as a fake exterior.

Cask charring can unlock new flavours. Roughly there are about 200 flavour compounds that can be harnessed from the wood and certain groups of these are only unlocked by cask charring and the level of burn applied to the cask. Master Blender, Brian Kinsman, created this blend from grain and peated whiskies of unspecified origin. In other words, Girvan grain and very likely Ailsa Bay that resides on the same site. This newish distillery produces a range of single malt whiskies – peated and otherwise for Grant’s blend.

I’ve never been a fan of Ailsa Bay and its output to date. Note there’s always an opportunity to change this. The batches I’ve tried don’t appeal to my palate with a level of peat and sweetness that feels too engineered, clean cut and synthetic. Let’s check out this Grant’s release.

Grant’s Elementary Carbon 6 Year Old – review

Colour: caramel

On the nose: spicy with cardamom, black pepper and sweet cinnamon. The char suggests smoke but far from thick or intoxicating. A Highland toffee, a noticeable level of grain comes rushing in followed by crushed digestive biscuits, cider and a light floral note. Very light, neutral with just the charred casks adding character. Water releases lemon peel and a little white wine vinegar.

In the mouth: very benign, again grain neutral with only the cask char adding anything with crème Brulee, cracked black peppery and a wisp of smoke. This is pretty flavourless stuff with a light floral nature with gentle dark spices. Water tones down the grain but leaves you little else other than mouthwash.

Conclusions

Rubbish. I paid 23 euros or so and feel robbed. For all the plaudits around the age statement and using charred casks, the end result is a very neutral spirit. This will live on as a cocktail mixer or base spirit for something else. Yet, as a standalone dram, forget about it.

Score: 2/10

For the month of August, Edinburgh swells to bursting point as it welcomes entertainers, musicians, artists and much more from across the world. A series of festivals are unleashed and the city limits almost burst with the sheer pressure of visitors and excitement. There is no better place to be when the conditions and entertainment meet in unison on the streets of Edinburgh with a dram in hand.

To celebrate the arrival of the Edinburgh International Festival, J&A Mitchell create and release a limited-edition blended Scotch whisky. Priced at £27 this is pitched at the more affordable end of the spectrum much like the Mitchell’s Glengyle blend that offers plenty of value for the price point. Hedley G. Wright, the current chairman of Springbank distillery, is the fifth generation of the family to own and run arguably Scotland’s greatest distillery. Always resplendent in person, he is also a supporter of the arts hence this annual tradition of a commemorative bottling.

There are no real discernible details regarding what goes into this annual release, or even an outturn number. It’s priced for drinking rather than any investment portfolio or scandalous flipper activity. All we know comes from the typically Campbeltown labels that offer just enough of the bare basics. Bottled at 40% strength, it is comprised of 100% Scotch whiskies. It also comes in a standard Springbank bottle that may or not wet the appetite. The reverse label hints at the blending skill of Scotland’s oldest distilling family, going so far as to promise a sophisticated, well-rounded and silky smooth dram to the discerning International Festival audience.

Following the same lines as the city itself, the Cadenhead’s shop in the heart of Edinburgh is a difficult proposition during August. The sheer carnival atmosphere around the Royal Mile is enough to dissuade most weary locals from even venturing within the vicinity. Fortunately for you dear readers, I happened to be nearby, early one Saturday morning. Eager to try this year’s release I purchased a bottle before the crowds invaded. Traditionally anything peated is the big seller during festival season with requests for more peat being transmitted to Campbeltown.

Generally, this festival release outlives the month and offers an impulse purchase opportunity or a wee gift to someone that isn’t ready for the trusted single malt cask strength offerings that adorn the shop. There’s nothing wrong with a good blend. I’m tired of stating the obvious. Compost Box can dress up blends in fancy packaging and transparency much to many social channels glee. Personally, I’m more inclined towards a solid, tasty enough blend that offers the opportunity to relax in the evening without too much effort.

Given the sheer range of casks at the disposal of the team in Campbeltown this blend could have almost anything within its makeup. Before the actual tasting, I’m envisaging a blend with a higher grain ratio than malt. There are no details on colouring, looking at it and knowing the traditions of the team this will be natural. In terms of chill filtration, we’ll add some water during the process. However, there are some cask remnants in my bottle which to me means flavour, or flavor as Alexandra keeps on reminding me.

Edinburgh International Festival 2018 blended whisky – review

Colour: lemon peel

On the nose: very fresh, light and floral with subtle vanilla, pear drops and ripe apples. There isn’t that grain harshness evident you can feel in many famous blends nowadays. It lacks the industrial edge of a Grant’s, Grouse or Whyte & Mackay. Buttery with notes of white chocolate, fudge, fresh cottage cheese, white grapes, pineapple cubes and lemon pip. Water reveals more floral notes, pine cones and nougat.

In the mouth: short and sweet, not overly complex or provocative but extremely drinkable and refreshing. Green apples, unripened bananas midway, then lemon before the vanilla finish lingers for longer than expected. Texturally it is pleasing and approachable without the taught nature, we see in other blends. The grain tries to break through at one point but fails. Water reveals some lovely natural oils and in terms of flavour marzipan and meringues.

Conclusions

Overall I feel I’ve picked up an enjoyable blend for a good price. One I can happily enjoy without too much effort and it serves the dual purpose of cleansing the palate, or as the initial dram at a tasting. Leave it to stand in the glass for a wee while prior to nosing and tasting. As for water on the palate use sparingly as it can become silky smooth too easily.

A whisky ultimately that anyone should be able to enjoy if not find some satisfaction with. Priced just below the overhyped Monkey Shoulder, I’d pick this Festival release every time.

Score: 6/10

I have chosen this moment to make a confession. I’m now on the inside, I now work for the whisky industry: specifically Waterford Distillery. Actually, the rum industry too, with Renegade Rum Distillery in Grenada. Which makes a whisky finished in a rum cask perhaps quite an appropriate point after all.

First of all, don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. Malt will continue exactly the same as always and I’ll write just as much as I did before. As you were. I’m just being honest and upfront about it all. I join those distilleries as Head of Communications, which basically means I’m like a child in a sweet shop.

I would like to show you this, however:

The date was 2014, back when Mark Reynier bought a €40-something million brewery, which became Waterford Distillery – and that’s how long I’ve been interested in this project. Ancient Malt readers will know that when I first started this thing as blog, many, many moons ago, before merging with the Whisky Rover and before those annoyingly younger and talented writers came on board, I was a huge fan of Bruichladdich and what Mark Reynier achieved there. I just got that philosophy and now it’s wonderfully bizarre that I’m now helping to express a similar philosophy (yes, the terroir word has a lot to do with it) albeit in a more radical, more profound manner.

I mean, 61 Irish farms, some of which are organic and biodynamic, distilled individually with a huge amount of behind the scenes stuff that guarantees provenance and does so in a tracible manner. Then the distillery itself – the most high-tech bit of kit in the world, used for good rather than evil, which is to allow the barley to express itself. And of course, the crazy-expensive wood policy.

The idea is that all of the different farm flavours can be layered up to create the most profound single malt (now in Jeremy Clarkson voice:) in the world. And it shows in the spirit, too. I’m not the only one on these pages to have tasted how good things are at less than a year old, so I can only imagine how good it’s going to be after that.

Then there’s Grenada, which is where I’ll currently be heading now as it happens. Renegade Rum is a whole different kind of incredible project, if you’re intrigued by such things. Before the distillery could be built (as of now, it’s being built), Mark had to find people on the island to grow cane, and people on the island with the land on which to grow it, which in the tiny amount of space here could be summarised as a bit of an uphill struggle. So now there are several sites – several terroirs – growing several varieties of cane, from volcanic mountainsides to fertile spots between rivers. All of this to be distilled separately from field to barrel, capturing different flavours, and bringing them together in the same manner. The grand vin approach too.

I said to Mark Reynier right at the start, when he asked me if I’d like to be involved, that “I’d give my right arm” to hitch a ride on this particular journey. Hardly surprising, is it?

So there we go. Cards on the table. A fully paid-up terroir propagandist (Adam will be jealous). Rather than compromising anything on Malt, I hope that being an industry insider, I’ll actually be able to highlight a few things that will be of value to readers. I’ve already heard some eye-opening stories about the wider Irish whisky industry that I can’t really share on here without lawyers probably getting involved, so suffice to say I’ll have to pick and choose what I do share with you.

But share with you, I will.

Now let’s drink some whisky – one that’s finished in a rum cask, and bottled at that ever-disappointing bare minimum of 40% ABV.

Grant’s Rum Cask Finish – Review

Colour: irrelevant, likely has e150.

On the nose: quite pleasant as it happens. More going for it than a lot of Scotch single casks I recall last year. Basic: creamy vanilla, toffee notes, with honey, lime marmalade, and a hint of malt. Oranges. Dried apricots. Nutmeg, in minor doses; chocolate. Nothing outlandish, nothing to suggest the rum cask was anything crazy, but it is all very pleasant.

In the mouth: quite pleasant again. Creamy, fresh, velvety – youthful perhaps. Milk chocolate, praline, honey, toffee, basic. The orange note is still noticeable, with a touch of green apple. Some gentle spiciness, but the roundness of the grain component keeps it all calm and mellow.

Conclusions

It is all simple – which is to say, it is not at all complex. But it’s actually quite elegant. It is well put together. I’d happily sip this without too much expectation. You can pick this up at any supermarket for less than £20, which is why it gets a not-terrible score from me.

Score: 6/10

I was full of ideas for openings when Mark asked for a volunteer to scrawl up Expedition Blended Malt. Sniggery-sniggery ones, riddled with gags along a “Sweaty Explorer’s Rucksack Finish” theme. I was going to quote from The Worst Journey in the World, which would have appealed to Father Wells no end, and I was going to crack wise about chill filtration. (Which, for the record, I don’t think Expedition has undergone.)

And then my buzz got good and killed by the discovery that it was all to do with a laudable renewable energy collaboration between Ardgowan scientists and Robert Swan MBE. Which you can read about here, and which is, of course, far too worthy an endeavour for cynical jokes and silly puns. (Though, re-reading this intro, one accidental quasi-pun did make its way in.)

So, having ditched the initial angle, I suppose I’m just left wondering about the price. Which, to you, is £500. For which you get a 20 year old blend of Speyside and “North Highland” malts. One six-hundredth of which has been to the South Pole, after Robert Swan’s bottle was tipped in with the rest. (Mark made a vulgar joke about backwash at this point.)

I do more than my fair share of price-related chuntering, both on Malt and elsewhere, so I want to be clear that I’m asking this sincerely: who is the target market for a £500-per-bottle 20 year old blended malt?

Alright, so it’s not quite the 5,000 notes demanded by the Bladnoch Bicentennial. But I think once we pass a certain price point – £200, maybe, though even that’s perhaps naïve of me these days – we’re into the rarefied waters where only the exceedingly wealthy swim. Along, possibly, with whisky uber-enthusiasts who are getting married or celebrating a birthday ending in a zero.

And I suppose what I’m wondering is what it is about Expedition that would induce someone to part with that amount of cash.

If your bottle of whisky had been to the South Pole, then I guess there’s a talking point. If you like that sort of thing. But that’s only true of less than two millilitres of what you’re getting. Occasionally whiskies are slapped with a heavy price tag because profits are going to charity; Arbikie’s inaugural rye, for example. But that isn’t the case here, despite the distillery’s commendable contribution to the renewable energy project.

I guess it’s a striking bottle, though not really in the way that snares in the Macallan mafia. I imagine the inspiration were the flasks that Ardgowan designed, but the effect is less Lalique and more back-shelf Inferno’s. I can’t really see it garlanding an oligarch’s display cabinet if you see what I mean.

Which leaves us with a 20 year old blended malt for more than three times the price of the already-too-expensive Collectivum from last year’s Diageo Special Releases. (Albeit you get some decent age with the Expedition.) Besides that, there are an absolute host of outstanding, proven whiskies for the same money or less. And I just wonder why, standing in front of all of those, with five hundred quid in your hand, you’d say “nope. I’ll have the Expedition.”

But I’ve never spent £500 on a bottle of whisky. So what would I know? Answers, if you please, on a postcard.

Expedition 20 Year Old Blended Malt – review

Colour: Walnut

On the nose: Nicely balanced, mature, sherried nose. Walnuts, dates, pine, moist Dundee cake. Lots of old furniture, lit cigar and leather. It’s certainly dusky, but it isn’t too woody. Chocolate wafers and cedar. The whole thing, whilst reasonably complex, seems to be set to “cruise”. It’s easing out of the glass, rather than really jumping out.

In the mouth: Again, a balanced palate, with a nicely waxy texture. (Wouldn’t be surprised if there was some Clynelish in this.) The wood and tannin are nicely set against the sweetness of the malt and the old Oloroso (I assume) doesn’t overwhelm. A touch of caramel and ginger biscuit. Blood orange and walnut wood. A dab of something more tropical too; peaches and apricots. That old (but accurate) cliché of fruitcake.

Conclusions

It’s nice. It’s skilfully blended, sensitive stuff. Very pleasant to sit through an evening with. But there’s no ohmyGodImusthaveabottle chutzpah and outrageousness, which for half a grand I feel it ought to deliver. It’s cut down to 46%, which seems slightly miserly, and may explain the somewhat sedate nose and delivery.

This is really being sold and priced based on marketing story and rarity. And it’s actually a perfectly reasonable, even admirable story. But it’s simply overpriced. There is competition for the money that absolutely wallops it, and that’s just too much of a stretch to look past.

Score: 6/10

(Point docked for the price.)
Many thanks to Ardgowan for the sample, and best of luck to them as they develop their own “in-house” whisky.

Well, everyone’s been posting about Johnnie Walker Game of Thrones. I finally had it, and I hated it. In fact, hate is an understatement.

It’s as torturous as being behind a Prius driving 60 MPH in the fast lane. It is the sound of an obstreperous screech (well above the frequency level of Middle C on a piano) coming from a child’s mouth inside a restaurant.

Some men think glitter is their nemesis. Well, this whisky is definitely the Kyptonite to my Superman. This tastes like Kombucha…and Kombucha sucks ass cuz it’s a Double Debbie Downer. Kamucha tastes like the love child of an IPA and a Sour beer without an end game. Both of these drinks taste like last night’s regret with a double shot of vomit, minus the buzz. Komubucha is like wine. …They’re both different types of liars. Wine is fruit juice pretending to be alcohol and Kambucha is vinegar pretending to be a healthy drink at Whole Foods.

I imagine this is what it feels like when an old, rich guy is being hustled by a hot chick in pleather, thigh-high boots. It looks good on the surface, but hot damn. There goes your JP Morgan Chase Palladium Visa. You just got bitched-slapped in the face by a hustler with acrylic nails and hair extensions.

Look. I don’t hate Johnnie Walker. In fact, I like the Green Label, Blue Label and Double Black. I think King George is good, too, but some of the stuff from them can get pretty expensive. For a value blend I think Monkey Shoulder is great (but maybe unfair to compare since there’s some malty goodness in that blend, but I’m sure Jason may disagree with me :p). I think if I had a lot of money I’d stock up on King George. HAHA. It’s expensive, but it’s delicious. I love the artwork on this GoT bottle, but that’s about it. On the flip side, everyone’s palate is different and it’s subjective. Opinions are buttholes. Everyone has one and the things that come out of orifices are shit (insert: my opinion. teehee).

I’ve been known to be too harsh, and sometimes I should be softer. I hear that the hardest gig to have is being a master blender, so it’s rude of me to feel this strongly about a whisky. That’s where I feel really torn when I hate something.

I mean, do I have a right to talk shit on someone or a team when I don’t know how to make whisky at all? UGH. On top of that, I was reminded of my experience working at a bar. There was a man who came off super hyper-masculine to me. He was flaunting his cash, and he told me he brought some King George to New Orleans. He mentioned it 3 times because he didn’t get the reaction he wanted from me.

Finally, he said, “It’s a $600 bottle.” I looked at him dead in the eye and said, “Yeah. I know.” Then, we had a 3-second, Wild West Showdown. His eyes said, “F U. I can’t believe you’re not impressed by my money,” and my eyes said, “F U. HARDER. You think I’m gonna metaphorically like your D cuz you got cash? Get off my lawn.” (I promise on my mama’s last name I am not a full-fledged Dragon Lady. My nickname is Gentle Lotus Flower on the streets…ok. Maybe that last part was a lie).

Later on, I went home and thought about the situation and I thought, “Ya know what? People want to be validated, loved and understood. Why am I coming off like a Dragon Lady? I’m in the service industry. WTF.” Sometimes it’s hard, man, but I do know when I soften up I’m able to get to know people better. The ones with swag and bravado drop their guard down and they end up being pretty nice.

Conclusions

So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, if you buy this and it makes you happy go for it. For me, I’m dippin out on this one. On the flip side, I will give this another shot and revisit it when I see my friend who owns a bottle. This is, of course, a first glance and it may change and open up like a blossoming butterfly…or it may just suck. IDK.

Score: 2/10

Images from Diageo.

It seems apt to be writing this review of the latest addition to the Compass Box core range, whilst in Spain. This particular release ticks the sherry box for many onlookers who love the influence this cask type can bring. But as Mark laid out in his recent BenRiach 12 year old review, sherry can be very boring.

I’ve never swallowed the red pill to Compass Box land that so many enthusiasts seem to visit. Personally, beyond the packaging and design, I just don’t see the lauded greatness that many fanboys proclaim around this independent bottler. Anyone can take some Clynelish – a distillate of high quality – and add a few more whiskies into the blend. Pass the results onto the marketing team and hey presto! A new release.

I’m no Jackson Pollock of the blending world and neither is Mark. Yet I reckon we could churn out acceptable results within budget constraints. Their whiskies are ok, but you are paying for the flannel that they come dressed up in. And then there’s the transparency aspect. If you want to know what’s actually within your whisky – the blend recipe – then the team will happily reply to you with that information. That’s great for those that want to seek out this level of detail and we’ll come onto the components of this release soon enough.

That old T-world transparency. Few actually live it and are happy enough to bury it in a hashtag and say one thing but do exactly the other. I’ve been called direct and much worse, but always honest and transparent. For many years I referred to Compass Box as Compost Box. Much to the hilarity of some who even commented on the typo until they realised the joke. The reasoning behind this was the brand was full of manure and the whiskies more about the story and marketing than the actual contents.

Now things have moved on. With their recent investment from a large corporation for a slice of equity, Compass Box have flexed their muscles in a sinister fashion as shown with Box Destilleri. How a distillery in Sweden can somehow affect a bottler in London with no distillery to call their own is beyond me. Anyone else with box in the name better watch out that’s all I can say. Box destilleri couldn’t afford to legally fight Compass Box and their suited brigade. Hence why from now on they are Corporate Box and a bit of fun for me.

We’ve let our Corporate Box coverage slip here at Malt. That’s not on purpose, but a reflection of how many releases are coming out. We don’t seek samples and personally, I’d rather purchase my own whiskies and explore on my own terms. I’d rather spend my money at Cadenhead’s who keep the packaging and labels to a bare minimum and focus on giving you value to such an extent that there’s little left in the wallet for Corporate Box.

Recently, I attended the Whiskybase Gathering in Rotterdam and after an avalanche of unicorn whiskies wanted to engage more with new distilleries and concepts. The Corporate Box bottles are eye-catching even amongst such lauded compatriots and I purchased a double of this release, which returned to Scotland before venturing across to Spain. Now feels right moment to explore this new concept after we’ve dissected the recipe.

This Spaniard is bottled at 43% strength and when broken down makes for interesting reading. 85% is made up of individual single malts with the remaining 15% being a Highland blended malt in heavily toasted French oak casks. Consisting of Clynelish (60%), Dailuaine (20%) and Teaninich (20%). After all, it wouldn’t be a Corporate Box release without some Clynelish in the mix.

Back with the single malt dynamic and Deanston offers 2 cask types with a 14 year old refill hogshead (7%) and a 15 year old refill sherry butt (8%). An 11 year old sherry butt from Craigellachie with 40% is the dominant ingredient followed by a 9 year old from Teaninich (25%) matured in wine casks. The remaining 5% is a touch of class from an 18 year old Glen Elgin from charred barrels. And that ladies and gentlemen is your Spaniard recipe.

You can purchase this Spaniard via the Whisky Exchange for £49.95 or check your local retailer as Corporate Box tend to have good distribution nowadays.

Compass Box The Story of the Spaniard – review

Colour: A golden orange hue.

On the nose: More softly spoken than I anticipated initially. Orange peel, rubbed bronze and rolled tobacco give us a gentle assortment of sherry-like aromas. Toffee apples and fudge. This Spaniard needs work to lift out the individual components. It’s not as flamboyant given the fanfare. A touch of alcohol at the rear and a sense of that’s it?

In the mouth: A little bland. Yes, a gentle caress from the sherry but nothing extraordinary or enticing. Buttery, oily even with red apples and the bronze/tobacco elements. A touch of that alcohol again suggesting some youthful spirit within the mix. Ok, the whispers of sweet cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, cranberries and what could have been.

Conclusions

Oddly disappointing. On paper, I expected a more robust whiskey. In reality, this is a rather flaccid affair that doesn’t deliver on expectations. Far from a sherry beast – thankfully – it’s a forgettable foray, muddled even with the component parts swamping one another..

Throughout this dram, I kept thinking about the Queen Margot 5 year old that was more vivid and about a quarter of the price. Maybe my memory is hazy? Maybe we’re seeing Corporate Box cutting a few corners to meet a market need and price point? I just expected more than this and won’t be purchasing a bottle.

Score: 4/10

Lead image from the Whisky Exchange and there are commission links within the review itself to help support Malt, but there are better whiskies out there than this.

I recently reviewed an independent bottling of Caol Ila by the legendary house of Samaroli. Please refer to that article if you’d care to read a potted history of the man and the enterprise.

Silvano Samaroli had a reputation for discerning selection of exquisite single casks. However, he turned the management of the company over to Antonio Bleve, of Rome’s Casa Bleve restaurant, in 2008. Though it is reported that Silvano remained active in cask selection until his passing last year, a discerning eye will notice some differences in Samaroli under the new management.

Some of these changes are for the positive. Distribution expanded internationally. Bleve ditched the staid old “Coilltean” labels for some more exuberant artwork. If there is a bottler – original or independent – with a more attractive presentation, I have yet to become aware of them. Colorful, pretty, stylish; they pop off the shelf in the way that whisky labels typically don’t. Of course, they don’t change the contents of the bottles. However, I’m pleased to see a marketing budget devoted to producing something of aesthetic value as opposed to, say, spurious Viking lore.

Other changes, not so much. As previously mentioned: prices for the current single cask releases are typically in the $200-and-up range, which seems to have dampened enthusiasm on the part of retailers, based on a few conversations I’ve had. I know a merchant who refuses to stock them on purely economic grounds (despite acknowledging the generally high quality of the range); another lamented that he was unable to move the bottles he bought and was forced to discount the bunch to get them off the shelf. Sadder and wiser, he’s presumably not planning to replenish his inventories anytime soon.

There’s also been a move into the production of blended malts. Though Samaroli himself had toyed with blending since at least 1992 (the range of pure malt blends was branded “No Age,” in an aggressive refutation of the primacy of age-statement bottlings), this has really taken off in recent years. The current range features blended malts called “Islay,” “Ferry to Islay,” Over an Islay Rainbow,” “’S Peaty,” “Samaroli Sherry,” “Samaroli Diamond,” “Samaroli Speyside,” and so on. You get the drift. The company has even been overt about tiering them into greater and lesser categories.

I can imagine that going this route this was a difficult decision for those involved in the management of the company, which also entails the maintenance of a departed friend’s legacy. Samaroli made its name in single cask bottlings from top distilleries. Is it worth risking brand dilution to move a few dodgy casks that didn’t mature along the hoped-for trajectory? Or is the siren-call of being able to sell second-or-third rate stock at first-rate prices irresistible?

Today’s bottle is a case in point. The official notes on this are vague, filled with a lot of quasi-poetic meandering that probably sounds more convincing when a sultry Italian woman (or swarthy Italian fellow, if that’s your preference) is whispering it to you across a plate of fresh tagliatelle and a bottle of Barbaresco. Here are the facts: this is a blend of Speyside malts, selected by “A.W. Bleve,” per the label. Some additional sleuthing indicates that this is a blend of Glenallachie, Glentauchers, and Macduff, three workhorse distilleries that have been more-or-less-tepidly reviewed by my colleagues here at MALT. Not the type of names you expect to see on a list of “desert island drams.”

I was able to pick up a bottle of this First Edition at $70, though I noticed the Second Edition on the shelf for $165 during a stroll through one of the better bottle shops in my area. I don’t care if the Lord almighty came down from the firmament and anointed these as the Chosen Casks- that’s quite a punchy price for blend of 8-year-old Speyside malts. Can the blender’s skill coax greatness from these humble components, creating something which transcends the sum of its parts? We’ll see, shortly, if the contents justify the cost.

This blended whisky was distilled in 2008, bottled in 2015 in a run of 1,236 bottles, at 43%.

Samaroli by Samaroli 2008, First Edition 2015 – review

Color: Palest straw color.

On the nose: Malty and winey nose, with floral scents of honeysuckle and lychee. Some yeasty notes of freshly-baked bread, angel-food cake, unripe kiwi fruit, and a wisp of white pepper.

In the mouth: Pure, clean malt on the palate. Starts almost silently before evolving a hint of wood, with a slightly soapy texture at midpalate. This perks up at the back of the mouth, with a hint of stone and salinity, before finishing with a nondescript warmth and the faintest residual flavor of lemon peel.

Conclusions

This is light-bodied, in the “breakfast malt” style, one I’m not entirely in love with. Even so, it’s interesting in that it captures something elemental about Speyside malts, before sherry casks or master blenders get involved. At $70, I’m happy to try it once for the experience, but am not likely to be a repeat customer. I’ll be saving my pennies for the single malt casks. At prevailing retail prices, I’m sad to say that this seems to be a case of exploiting a venerable old name. Or, as the Romans wisely counseled: caveat emptor.

Score: 4/10

Please see our scoring guide for more information.

The whisky boom continues and the number of independent bottlers grows accordingly. Many contenders are serious outfits on their own or spinoffs from existing firms, others are more organic enterprises and then there’s the crowdfunding approach we covered in the Whisky Crowd piece.

Sadly, this novel approach failed to hit the target despite the cask selection warranting further exploration. Success isn’t guaranteed, nor the automatic support of the whisky community, #whiskyfabric or whatever it is being called this month. In retrospect, it is also a market where currently there is too much choice in the marketplace. Casks dropping from the skies like rainfall with varying degrees of quality and pricing.

As whisky enthusiasts, we’re automatically drawn towards such releases with iconic names, fanciful packaging or attractive prices. The distant and intoxicating music of the Sirens unknowingly pulling us in and leading us onto damnation, or the checkout as its known in the modern era. Not every release or bottler is a success. Not every whisky is a worthwhile venture. We live in an era of bountiful releases and quality, but a consistency that can become dangerously dull.

Whisky boredom. A new blindness seeping in all around us. The ability to step away is lost and the courage to actually debate is this worth it? What I am actually benefiting from in this transaction? The age statement prompts a certain glaikit look from bystanders. An immediate winner if the bottler can unleash this alongside a famous name. This isn’t always the case as we have here today with a 41 year old creation from North Star Spirits.

This Glasgow independent bottler has certainly made a name for itself over the past couple of years by offering value and quality. I’m asked consistently asked when will Malt cover more from its regular outturns? More so than any other bottler currently, in fact, thereby underlying the interest around its releases. We’ll try our best and like yourselves, we are also living through this bumper age of releases. We can only spend so much of our free cash and lest we not forget to drink in moderation.

Personally, looking ahead, if I can focus on a handful of bottlers in 2019 it will be Cadenhead’s, Gordon & MacPhail, the Scotch Malt Whisky Society and we’ll squeeze in North Star. That’s a promise and I look forward to the stampede to try and pick up some of these North Star releases which don’t last long in due course.

This is the 3rd instalment in the Vega range released in May 2018. Priced at £150 for a 41 year old, the Sirens didn’t need to strike up a melody for this. Distilled in November 1976 before being bottled at 46.1% strength and non chill-filtered. This is a blended malt with an outturn of 400 bottles. The contents being matured in both Spanish and American oak.

My thanks to Noortje who continues to be a delight and provided the photographs in this piece along with a sample. Being kind, it’s only fair that she joins me for a double review.

North Star Spirits Vega 1976 – Jason’s review

Colour: Honeycomb.

On the nose: Very musty with the emphasis on oak. Wood spices, a faded cinnamon, wood shavings with waxed leather, orange chews and caramel. It feels tight and water doesn’t reveal much other than dried fruits and rubbed brass.

In the mouth: More wood, or American oak to be precise. A slightly drying emphasis and a fine dark chocolate. Golden syrup with a decadent honey, mace, cardamon, cinnamon and tobacco. Adding a touch of water reveals toffee, vanilla and salted peanuts.

Conclusions

This is a very well priced whisky, but I cannot bring myself to award an 8 here, which is a score I rarely give. My impression is that this Vega has stepped off the summit and is sadly on a downward slope. The wood has taken too much control and whilst what remains is rather good, I do wonder what might have been? I’ll resist the Siren call for while longer.

Score: 7/10

North Star Spirits Vega 1976 – Noortje’s review

Colour: Auburn

On the nose: It starts with a combination of dark fruit and red fruit; blueberries, blackberries and strawberries. There is a hint of menthol. Chocolates (chokotoff), caramel, and leather. But then it leans towards some fruity freshness that reminds me of fresh oranges. Also some dried fruits here, like figs. And some nutmeg and cloves.

In the mouth: Sweet, dark fruits again, prunes, and there is again a menthol aspect too. This is followed by resin. It’s spicy, leathery and has some oak notes too. A layer of honey. And then it goes back to cacao and dark chocolates. The finish is long! With spices, vanilla. Some salted caramel, liquorice and dark chocolate. Mouthwatering!

Score: 9/10

Conclusions

I don’t exactly know what this blend is made of except that it contains liquid from Speyside and Islay. But it is good, very good and I can see myself enjoying this during some of the rainy days in autumn or winter time. In addition, it was also for sale for a very reasonable price and that makes it all a bit more interesting. Kudos for North Star Spirits!

Yes, I know, there wasn’t meant to be an article on Malt today. After all, it is Christmas and things come to a grinding halt. The Malt machinery has been working flat out in 2018 to bring you something daily. There should be a pause – even for us when we’re all wrapped up in seasonal fare and family events. Ultimately it is family that this time of year should truly be about and a much-needed opportunity to switch off.

But then I reconsidered following a discussion with family. There are some out there who don’t acknowledge and celebrate Christmas for a variety of reasons. And we shouldn’t forget about them or deny our regulars a wee slice of whisky banter on this day. In an executive JJ decision i.e. I’ve not told Mark – so he’ll see this post with great surprise – we’re publishing this seasonal release from Douglas Laing & Co. A family whisky firm with a love for branding and releasing whiskies from Islay and the other Scottish regions.

It’s the family love of Port Ellen that means arguably Douglas Laing has more stock than most of this iconic distillery. A pretty penny’s worth I’m sure. The price of single cask bottlings is rising and Port Ellen the original is becoming firmly out of reach of the masses. Even the prospect of the Frankenstein Port Ellen 2 creation from Diageo will be costly as Adam recently debated the value of the project. Money talks more than whisky and Diageo could not afford to let Port Ellen die from a brand sense.

Whilst it is interesting to see these distilleries revived, there isn’t any doubt they won’t be the same. Historians will highlight the industry is quite adept at demolishing distilleries and rebuilding them in a new sleek modern style. Glenburgie in 2004 was a recent example of a levelling and reconstruction. Then during the 1960s there were a series of ground zero approaches to decaying and historical distillery buildings. Efficiency and profit are the wise men of the industry that cannot be ignored or denied.

Once it’s demolished then it is gone forever. End of and that’s the reality. Imagine if someone decided to purchase Millburn in Inverness and start distilling whisky in the kitchen area. Would this be Millburn? From a geographical perspective yes, it would indeed be. If the naming rights could be snatched from the cold hands of Diageo then it is a possible project, but again, would it truly be Millburn as we know it from bygone decades? No is the unanimous answer.

Let us leave the ghosts of Christmas distillery past exactly where they should be. Instead, let us embrace today and the rosy future for many. 2019 is going to be a wonderful year for me personally, the team here and what we’ve created. I hope that good fortune, happiness and prosperity knock at your door and in true first footing style is welcomed inside.

Meanwhile, let us consider this annual edition from Big Peat, which is in its 8th incarnation. A blended malt vatting from some of Islay’s distilleries minus a few chancers such as Bruichladdich, Lagavulin and Kilchoman. This is always a small batch release and is naturally coloured and without chill-filtration. Bottled at a robust 53.9%, it’ll set you back an acceptable £51.95 via the Whisky Exchange or a digestible £52.56 from Amazon, or with widespread distribution including from the Carnegie Whisky Cellars in Dornoch who provided this sample, you can pick up a bottle locally, or Douglas Laing still has online stock.

Personally, I’ve always found the vatting involved in a blended malt to be an intriguing subject. I don’t go as far as Tweedlord to proclaiming that it is the true guiding light of whisky. I still prefer the funk and rollercoaster nature of the single cask format and that’s the real interest for me. However blended malts, or even the art of blending is fascinating, as shown in a recent blog post by Mark Watt from Cadenheads. A piece that is worth a few moments of your time if only for the level of detail and openness about the process and the individual elements.

Sadly, we don’t have that level of detail from Douglas Laing for the Big Peat release. Although a little birdy told me that in recipe terms, the second highest component within this 2018 edition is actually Port Ellen. This if true, does come as a surprise given the inclusion of Ardbeg and Bowmore. Expensive names but nevertheless more widely available than a cask of Port Ellen. You’d expect Caol Ila to form the main bulk of any percentage in the series with a lashing from other distilleries and in William Grant fashion, a teaspoon of Port Ellen. But perhaps given the volatile nature of Port Ellen whisky and its variable nature, Douglas Laing may have had some borderline or inactive casks that could do some good in a Big Peat release. The upshot being that this is for many the cheapest way to say you’ve had a slice of liquid history without taking out a new loan to purchase a bottle of Port Ellen.

Big Peat Blended Malt 2018 Christmas Edition – review

Colour: Almost colourless with a touch of faint brown.

On the nose: A sweet and gentle peat with a sprinkling of autumnal essence. Fresh cotton sheets with a mixture of brine and salt crust. Chalky, with candy floss and lime juice. A creamy grapefruit with a touch of smoke and salted peanuts. Memories of Rice Krispies are also revived.

In the mouth: A more earthy peat steps forth now, with cinder toffee, a dirty vanilla, damp wool, gorse and treacle. A short finish in reality. A spent campfire residue the day after and salted popcorn.

Conclusions

Satisfying if a touch simple. More subtle then I was expecting. Far from big, this is the Tom Cruise of peat. I’d consider a bottle as the price is thereabouts and thoroughly quaffable. Just don’t step into this one expecting a lavish or ferocious experience. Meanwhile, enjoy your family time.

Score: 5/10

Lead image from the Whisky Exchange and the sample kindly provided by the Carnegie Whisky Cellars in Dornoch. There are also commission links within this article but these are for your convenience only and don’t influence our opinion, pout or otherwise.

There I was, sitting comfortably, in a relaxing environment one evening, considering the dram at hand. A recent purchase, in the form of the batch 2 Cadenhead’s blended whisky. And then it truly hit me. I couldn’t recall purchasing a blend in ages. A terrible admission, given my fondness of blends prior to the 1980s and suchlike.

Blends are often frowned upon, particularly by those who don’t know much or seem to be obsessed with the single malt brigade. Like you, the regular Malt reader will know, this is utter nonsense. Blends can be evocative and mesmerising liquid experiences. Far removed from the current supermarket fodder that is tainted with a high proportion of industrial grain and artificial colouring. A good blend is to be savoured and often represents value and just enough of that flavour to spend an enjoyable evening with.

Oddly enough, the last blend I can recall purchasing (after referring to Malt’s blend section) also came from Cadenheads in the form of their 2018 Festival bottling, but prior to that the release that sticks out was their 43 year old creation. For the record, I left the remnants of that bottle with Noortje in Dornoch and never saw it again. That’s perfectly fine as I’m sure it was shared and enjoyed, as all whisky rightly should be. I know I’ve been ignoring some of these Cadenhead’s blending exponents for no reason whatsoever. I guess, I‘m just as guilty as having my head turned by the offer of a single malt as much as anyone. Either that, or my wife is right and I am slowly losing my grip on reality.

In 2018, Cadenheads debuted their batch 1 release of this blended Scotch whisky, bottled at a lovely 20 years of age. That initial release featured a simple blend make up for Strathclyde for the grain and Glenrothes for the single malt component. The twist this time around was that Cadenhead’s were adopting a Solera type system for this release and other blended offerings.

Traditionally in Scotland, casks are blended by a boffin, sat comfortably in the corporate headquarters adorned with a nice white apron, who then dictates to the warehouse team. The fundamentals within the equation are colour, aroma, taste and what the blender is trying to achieve. If you’re working for an existing blend, then you have to keep within the parameters of that existing whisky – you don’t want to annoy wee Wille from Cumbernauld, by upping the peat level. Consistency is everything in an established blend or brand. Other considerations are just as important, such as stock management and unit price. There’s no point creating something simply divine, if you cannot release it on a wide enough scale, or at a price point that ensures the margins are not profitable.

All of the above matters to a certain degree, but this is a Cadenhead’s release where they tend to do their own thing and enthusiasts follow. What separates Scotland’s independent bottler from many others is the level of information. That old transparency thing, or what we’ve been calling Malt Truth on Instagram of late. Simply telling the consumer what is in the bottle and how it was created. A refreshing concept and one that should be uniformly adopted across the whole industry. After all, Diageo and William Grant & Sons, love to tell us such details when it suits them, especially when it is to justify some ridiculous price as seen with the Johnnie Walker Blue Label Ghost & Rare, or a Ghosted Reserve.

I’ll refer you to this excellent Cadenhead’s blog post about another blend and their Solera system. In essence, I like to think of this method as like driving around Glenrothes. The car is the liquid and you are constantly going around in circles with other cars. Only a handful manage to navigate the chaos and escape the town boundaries. The Solera system is an orchestra of casks with the liquid being consistently refreshed and at the end, well there is no conclusion. You leave some whisky within the maze, to form the foundation of the blend when new whiskies are introduced into the system.

This batch 2 release is an outturn of 696 bottles at 46% strength and remarkably the fearsome darkness is all natural. Reminiscent of that sooty Gordon & MacPhail 1973 Old Pulteney – if it’s half as good as that whisky then we’re in for a treat. As with everything Cadenhead’s there is no chill-filtration implemented and you can expect to pay in the region of £55 for this release. The colour is mesmerising to a certain extent. You’re expecting a massive sherry beast, but in reality, this is something a little more palatable and refined, which leads us onto the tasting notes.

William Cadenhead 20 year old batch 2 – review

Colour: Treacle.

On the nose: Chocolate, no make that a warm chocolate brownie. Walnuts, some cherries and rubbed brass. Brasso? Old school cola cubes, liquorice and juniper berries. Resin and a simple vanilla beneath it all. Black shoe polish wax, toasted coconut and Tayberry jam, with a homely worn oak dining table. Water reveals more fruits alongside haggis seasoning.

In the mouth: I hate to say this but smooth. More chocolate flavours, cinnamon bark, mace and aniseed. A rum punch? Charcoal on the fringes. Grape juice and those horrible prunes from the school canteen – tell me they don’t serve them still? A simple pleasure. Terry’s chocolate orange. With water toffee apples and an enhanced finish. Jakeman’s soothing menthol sweets, cracked black pepper and Burdock root.

Conclusions

A damn fine creation it must be said. Nothing biblical, but it has an essence of the old traditional blend about it – a touch of style if you prefer. An irresistible combination of value and an experience. Extremely quaffable as Tweed would say whilst motoring around the countryside in his Range Rover. Put a bottle of this down amongst friends and guaranteed you could plough through most of the contents in a sitting.

This approachability reminds me a little of the Deanston Toasted Oak, a release that went down all too quickly sadly, but the memories live on. With batch 3 of this Cadenhead’s concept due to land later in 2019, I’ll see you down the front.

Score: 8/10

As with most of my lazy, late reviews, by the time this goes online, the bottles in question will be long gone. So you’ll be confronted with some tasting notes and me talking about a jolly nice time guzzling some very old whisky, the likes of which the average punter isn’t going to be able to afford even at original prices, let alone auction prices.

But you’ll get no apology from me because at the time of writing this is still on sale – a steal at £399. Generally, it’s the nature of the beast: we get sent stuff and, no matter how tasty it is, we have lives; we’re not going to rush that review to the front of the queue to be part of the buzz. Apart from when we do, of course. But on this occasion, I’m still in time, which surprised me; something four decades old for that kind of price more often than not gets snaffled up right away.

Is this a sign of the times? That people aren’t as bothered about old whiskies as they used to be? Does it matter? All wild speculation that has nothing to do with reality, naturally.

Yes, today’s whisky is a rather venerable old beast. It’s from 1973, long before I was born, let alone all the jolly-come-lately annoyingly young millennials now writing entertaining stuff on Malt. Adam’s just old enough to be allowed into pubs. Back then, the whisky industry was a very different place, of course. Different, not necessarily better. That’s an important statement, as these days, many whisky drinkers have become whisky antiquarians, celebrating everything that happened approximately before the closure of Port Ellen, and despising everything thereafter. Ancient bottles have become pornography. Dicks are swung about as people reel off any number of facts about which distillery was built where, when it closed, and which single malt went into what blend, not to mention lamenting the loss of the prices of yesteryear. Nothing to do with flavour, you’ll note.

There were production differences back in the day, too. Were barley varieties more flavoursome, though not as high-yielding? Quite possibly, not that anyone’s looked rigorously. Were the casks a bit better? Possibly and possibly not; there was a period towards the end of the 1970s through to the 1990s where no one gave one iota about single malts, and there was a general cheapening or ‘efficiency’ saving period, where any old wood would do. Barrels of E150 – that curiously permitted additive for Scotch – began to be dumped into blends as the wood grew increasingly tired and offered up a weak colour. Stills were coal-fired – and let’s not forget that copper is porous – so that’s another variable in flavour. Good or bad? Hard to say. But it’s not as simple as saying old good, new bad, or even vice versa.

Generally, this is where I tend to drift apart from the whisky antiquarians. I’m not too bothered about the past. Yes, I can appreciate an old specimen. Yet I also like what the new wave of distilleries is doing more. They’ve eschewed all the industrial, historical, efficiency savings of yesteryear, because they are of the present, which is far more competitive, and they are small enough to do what they want, rather than bow down to industry trends. They have to make quality spirit, if they can, and put it into good wood from the start. So yes, it’s fun to enjoy an antique now and then, but I’m more intrigued with the future—be that in Britain, Europe or wherever—because it’s looking like there’s plenty of flavour on the horizon. As a curious drinker, it is the flavour that interests me most. (Although, that said, recently I was sitting with a copy of Barnard, reading about the past, and enjoying a dram, and thinking: arse, I’m being dragged into the allure of the past again. I wonder what it is about whisky history?)

But back to this old thing. It’s a special edition released by European bottler the Whisky Agency, but in partnership with The Whisky Exchange, which rarely chooses a dull bottle. It’s lived for 43 years in a refill sherry butt. Refill – perhaps a relic of the recycled wood era? Not the best cask? Now, many a bearded table thumper will kick off at this point and say, yes but 43 years in a first-fill barrel would be too strong, to which I would say get back in your box. Much of the maturation—that spirit-wood interaction—happens in the first few years, so after a while, you’re not getting the same intensity in the slightest. It’s more intriguing to wonder what this would have been like with a vibrant interaction at the start.

Anyway, it’s bottled at 47.4% ABV and sets you back £399. The only thing I can’t work out is if it’s a single cask, which the press material implies (‘from a refill sherry butt’), while it also has a ‘blended malt’ in its name, suggesting whisky from more than one distillery. Is it teaspooned? If someone wishes to garnish me with the truth, I’ll amend.

Speyside Region Blended Malt Scotch Whisky – 43 Years Old (1973)

Colour: yellow gold. Fair to say, not much cask influence on the colour at least.

On the nose: intensely sweet at first, floral notes – jasmine and honeysuckle, with the vanilla eventually overwhelming. Lime marmalade. Slightly oily and waxy (candle wax). Pears in syrup. Earthy: black tea (Assam), coal dust. Peaches. Apricots. Floral honey. Back to tea again.

In the mouth: citrus, citrus, slight charcoal and mineral note. Mango. Pears. A chestnut, mushroom, truffle-y earthiness starts to undermine that citrus sweetness. Lemon and limes again, with a custardy note. Baked apples. Stem ginger in syrup. Very full in the mouth, and towards the end there’s some chilli pepper heat.

Conclusions

Very pleasant indeed. Yes, they don’t make ’em like this anymore, which is to say that it’s not necessarily better than modern whiskies, but it is a fine example of days gone by. It’s there in the spirit, but the maturation wasn’t quite there. I wasn’t moved, but I was pleased. If you find yourself with a spare £399 in your pocket, there are at least a couple of bottles of Chichibu, Smogen or several from the Cotswolds Distillery, which I’d be more inclined to steer you towards.

Score: 7/10

Lead image from the Whisky Exchange and the links are commission based, but we’ll let you decide whether 1973 is the greatest year ever for whisky?

Once when I was working behind a bar, a customer remarked, “Why are you selling that s***e?” whilst pointing to a bottle of The Chita single grain sitting on a shelf. He proceeded to tell me he worked for a company that specialised in selling Japanese whiskies to businesses and rattled off a few well-known Asian whiskies, the usual sales patter. When I finally asked him who he worked for, he replied Suntory… slightly confused, I kindly decided to glance over his faux pas.

Personally, I quite like The Chita. It is a perfectly good dram and I will happily sup one, perhaps after a nice porcini risotto as it really brings out the creamy, earthy notes from the whisky. I have a bottle open that I will often revisit, as it is so easy to enjoy. My review, however, is not about The Chita, but rather a blended grain whisky I received a sample of for one of my gifts last Christmas. The dram in question is from Bartels Whisky, His Excellency blended grain 25yo bottled at 40.3%. This whisky came into existence when a first-fill sherry butt of 25-year-old Cambus grain was sent to the bottlers, only to be found to have an ABV of 39%. As we whisky drinkers know, that is a big problem, so it was vatted with 5% proportion of 25-year-old North British grain to bring it up to that magic mark whereby it can legally be called a whisky. Only 100 bottles of this liquid were produced due to a structurally defective cask, so it is a wee bit of a unicorn! The fact that it is decently aged and a blended grain makes it quite a rarity, and I feel lucky to have tried it.

I have noticed that single and blended grains do get a lot of bad press. They are usually looked down upon as people feel that they are inferior. Yes, they are cheaper to make, and I guess not as romantic as a single malt, but the ones I have sampled have been quite delicious. At times I have overheard conversations where the view is expressed that if it is not a single malt, then it’s not worth drinking. Along similar lines, I have noted people saying that no water or ice should ever be added to any whiskies! This baffles me… Surely if you drink whisky, you and only you can decide how you enjoy your spirit? Though I have seen a couple of old geezers pour as much water as whisky into their glasses, and that horrifies me! Anyway, I have gone off on a tangent. I have been quite lucky as the blended/single grains I have tried, bar The Chita, have been aged for a fairly long time, so the intense alcoholic flavours have had time to mellow and transform to create wonderful tropical delights.

I wanted to get into the history of Bartels, the fact that it is a small family-owned independent bottler. However, I thought Mark did a great interview with the Bartels team (albeit this was back in 2015) and you probably would learn a whole lot more by taking a read. I love a family-run business, having been brought up in one. I can imagine what it is like: despite being in a totally different field to my own experiences, I reckon there are plenty of similarities to which I could relate.

I decided to review this Bartels Whisky because I found it very different compared to others I have tried in the same genre. Most grains I’ve sampled have been quite similar in their flavours; I almost always get coconuts like Scottish macaroons and the aforementioned tropical fruits often associated with grains. With this whisky, I didn’t really get that, which I found interesting and noteworthy!

Bartels Whisky, His Excellency, Blended Grain – review

Colour: deep amber

On the nose: up front I get sweetness and creamy vanilla. Lot of sugar, definitely brown to dark brown, that has been slightly burnt to give a nice toffee aroma. There are also lots of bread and toast scents with maybe a light spreading of marmite. Christmas cake flavours are present; I get raisins and orange peel as well as the spices, hints of cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves.

In the mouth: I found this whisky quite spicy with lots of black pepper. The sweetness is there but surprisingly not as much as expected after my experience on the nose. I thought my blood sugar levels were going to hit the roof! It has a silky mouthfeel with a slight saltiness, saline, vanilla bursts, and then over time, it becomes somewhat drying. After a while, I began to get mushrooms, earthy undertones, sporadic liquorice bursts, a little bit of Asian medicine as I began to get some ginseng root and tannic bitterness. the finish is medium with a warm lingering burn, sensations of numbness on the sides of the tongue. Silky at the base of the throat with hints of cinema toffee popcorn.

Conclusions

This dram surprised me, I was expecting milk chocolate Bounty Bars but instead I got dense Christmas cake! In fairness, I should have realised it was from the sherry butt; still, the flavours did throw me. If this Bartels sounds appealing to you, you might get lucky and be able to pick one up at a reasonable price at auction even with only 100 bottles ever being produced. An interesting and enjoyable dram that shows a slightly different side to grains than I am used to. I enjoyed it despite the clash with my expectations, but must admit I much prefer the totally tropical notes that I’ve had with previous grains.

Score: 6/10