I’m surprised at how long it took us Whiskeyteers to get to the Glenfarclas 105, considering that we’re all 3 fans of sherried whiskies and we all have a soft spot for the family-owned Glenfarclas (especially their 15 year old, which is really, really hard to get in the States). Did I mention we all loved every single barrel sherried Speyside/ Highland we’ve tried from the SMWS?
I guess the availability of the 105 takes out the impetus to grab one and get it done. We still haven’t grabbed a bottle; this dram was purchased by my brother who’s working from home from Aruba during this Covid pandemic. He said the beach gets old after a couple of weeks, the kids get used to the novelty and it’s business as usual with the downside of severely limited and overpriced whisky selection – I don’t buy it.
This Glenfarclas 105 is a cask strength whisky bottled at 60%. It should be a fair comparison to the SMWS single cask releases mentioned above, whenever we get to that. Which reminds me… I should get Mike to draft a post on cask strength vs. single casks, scotch, bourbon, blends, single malts, bottled-in-bond, scotch regions, glencairns, independent bottlers, e150, chill filtration, ABV and proof, Oloroso, PX and all things 101 and beyond. He’d love it I’m sure.
Glenfarclas 105:
Bottled at 60% and I’m sure left unchill filtered and at natural color. No age statement, but it’s suggested the whisky is 8-10 years old and aged in sherry and bourbon casks.
Appearance: auburn, like polished mahogany. Nose: A pot of dark pine honey exploded in the spice cupboard, which was build recently out of quality hardwood. There was also a bag of ripe oranges in there, for some reason. And vanilla. With water, the nose goes caramel supernova. Cheremoyas. Palate: The high ABV juice builds up to molasses and toffee, accompanied by orange rinds and a touch of zaatar. The wood, fruit and sherry are inseparable. A touch of salt makes an appearance on the long and drying finish. With water, we go deeper into sherry territory, dried fruits and some pepper on the finish. Score: 7/10
I’m thinking about beginnings. Specifically, the genesis of this post.
Was it is the first time I tried a peated whisky, 18 years ago at the Cheesecake Factory’s bar in Tyson’s Corner? It was a Lagavulin 16 and I was not able to finish my dram.
Was it the first time I actually enjoyed a peated whisky? That was 10 years ago and the dram was a Laphroaig 10, shared with a good friend. Something must have happened to my palate (and nose) in the 8 years between that Lagavulin and the Laphroaig. Peat was suddenly this delicious, addictive thing and I needed to consume a whole lot more of it.
How about the first time I had an Ardbeg? Jihane and I picked up a bottle for our friends when we got invited to dinner, some 8 years ago, and I was so floored by that dram that I could not wait to pick up a bottle (or six) for myself. I still find considerable enjoyment in that whisky.
Or was it the first time I had a taste of whisky, back in Lebanon when I was entirely too young to drink and had a sip of my dad’s Red Label?
I’m not sure. Who cares? What’s important is peat, people. That wonderful vegetal moss and the wonderful whisky makers who use it to dry malted barley (fact: peated was traditionally used at malting as it was the main source of fuel around Scottish distilleries) . Peat smoke melds with the malting grain and imparts intense smoky, tarry, meaty, medicinal notes in Islay whiskies, smoky and briny notes in other Island scotches, smoky and industrial notes in Campbelltown whiskies. Speyside and Highland distilleries consistently peat some expressions as well and the results are worth exploring.
Islay Scotch was my first peaty love. I’ve explored a bit wider since and am now having a serious fling with Campbelltown juice. More importantly, I’ve started picking up on both the quality of the distillate and the barrels whiskies are aged in, so a peathead description would be narrow and limiting. This is not a post about peat. Well, not just. It’s a post about good whiskies, even great whiskies if you factor in value.
Onto 3 of what have become daily drams slash perennial stockers:
Longrow
Distilled by the Springbank Distillery, one of the last surviving producers of single malts in Campbeltown, an area that once boasted over 30 distilleries. Springbank is family owned (by J&A Mitchell & Company) and produces the unpeated Hazelburn line, the lightly peated Springbank and the more heavily peated Longrow lines.
Longrow is a no age statement (NAS), bottled at 46%, unchill filtered and with no color added.
Appearance: light gold Nose: I’m hit by so much maltiness. Raw white flour dough, butter, vanilla, a touch of motor oil. Imagine a crème renversée that’s been aged in a car mechanic’s tool box. A touch of salt, stewed apples. Palate: creamy mouthfeel, peaty deliciousness with hints of rubber (toy car tires) and diesel, quickly giving way to caramel and vanilla. Peaks at dark cherry jam with orange peels (of yeah, plenty of fruit notes here). Salty throughout. medium long finish with salty toffee and a touch of sulfur. Water is not hugely beneficial. Score: 8/10
Kilkerran 12
Produced by the Glengyle distillery in Campbelltown which is also owned by the Mitchell family. Between Springbank and Glengyle, J&A Mitchell owns two thirds of all of the remaining Campbelltown distilleries (the third being Glen Scotia). According to Kilkerran’s web site: Kilkerran is derived from the Gaelic ‘Ceann Loch Cille Chiarain’ which is the name of the original settlement where Saint Kerran had his religious cell and where Campbeltown now stands.
Kilkerran 12 is bottled at 46%, unchill filtered and with no color added.
Appearance: light gold (no coloring, unchill filtered) Nose: leads with vanilla (quality, not artificial vanillin) and malt. Butter and salt again, similar to Longrow, If I dig, a touch of alcohol gives this a bit more bite. Palate: creamy/oily mouthfeel. Wherthers originals with bitter orange rinds, into buttery and creamy desserts, then warm and peppery with nutmeg and white pepper on a medium long finish. Herbaciousness and brine throughout, peak on the finish. This dram tries to balance everything. Score: 7/10
Ardbeg 10 (46%)
Located on the south coast of Islay, the Ardbeg distilley produces heavily peated whiskies. It was at one point owned by Hiram Walker, was then bought by Glenmorangie which was in turn bought by the now current owner, Louis Vuitton Moët Hennesy (LVMH). Dr. Bill Lumsden, Glenmorangie’s director of distilling has a hand in Ardbeg whiskies.
Ardbeg 10 is bottled at 46%, unchill filtered and with no color added.
Appearance: light gold (no coloring, unchill filtered) Nose: tar, bandaid, a touch of iodine, a touch of rock pool, green olives. Weirdly enough, you can get hot cinnamon and mastic gum if you smell this from a different mental angle. Palate: ashy smoke, vanilla, honey, then caramel with some green apple and lemon zest. Medium finish with some warming cinnamon on the tail end. Water tamps down the peat into wet ash and the mouthfeel suffers. Score: 7/10
You may have picked on the fact that I like these 3 drams, a lot. Longrow gets the gold on the incredible creamy mouthfeel, something that’s become increasingly crucial in my book as I go through the unfortunate Laphroaig 10 on my shelf (review to come soon). It’s also so well balanced (and just plain delicious) it’s so hard to find any faults with it.
Kilkerran is outstanding as well but loses a point by compariosn to Longrow. Where Longrow is, to borrow a British expression, moreish, Kilkerran is, to borrow another British expression, slightly uncouth.
The Ardbeg 10 stands on its own as a great Islay (one that is very near and dear to my heart).
Mike and Fadi both have samples or bottles of these whiskies, my daily drinkers if I could drink every day. I can’t wait to see what they think.
Mike’s blind whisk(e)y drops are getting trickier these days. While still deeply in love with SMWSA, he’s branched out into distillery releases (and not just Scotch). Two vials were dropped, one marked with an umbrella and the other with a mountain sticker. Mike’s also in love with his fancy label-maker.
I thought both were both Speyside distillery releases, bottled at around 45% at 12 years old. They were both enjoyable and extremely easy to drink. As far as complexity, I told Mike (pre-reveal) that the whisky that eventually turned out to be Hakushu 12 is a bit darker/more substantial.
Glen Grant 12:
Glen Grant is a Speyside producer owned by Campari. The 12 is bottled at 43%.
Appearance: pale gold Nose: honey and pear, a sprinkle of Maldon. With a bit of time, butterscotch emerges. Palate: caramel and vanilla, a touch of cherry. decent mouthfeel. Finish: medium, caramel. Score: 5/10
Hakushu 12:
Produced by Suntory, bottled at 43%.
Appearance: slightly less pale gold Nose: juicy apples, vanilla custard Palate: a bit more oomph here. Apples, caramel, a kiss of oak. Finish: medium-long, white pepper and a touch of cinnamon. Score: 6/10
Mike’s tasting notes:
Glen Grant 12:
After a long period of targeting single cask, limited releases, cask strength, and independent bottlers, I started to feel some very real palate (and wallet) fatigue. I figured the best solution was an exploration into core expressions of distilleries slightly off the beaten path. First is Glen Grant.
Nose: Toffee, red apple, a touch of baking spice: anise and cinnamon Palate: Apples, honey, vanilla Finish: Short. Fruity with dry spice. Score: 5.5/10
This is a nice, affordable whiskey. Very fruity and a tasty, easy drinker that isn’t particularly complex but has no major faults. Malt mustiness and barrel tannins are very low here, so it could also make for an excellent mixer.
Hakushu 12:
“For relaxing times…make it Suntory time.”
The words that sparked a Japanese whiskey boom. Ever since Bill Murray’s disenchanted Bob Harris struggled to deliver that marketing slogan “with intensity!” in 2003’s Lost in Translation, the hype and accolades for Japanese whiskey have been seemingly unending. My experience with Japanese whiskey has been less enthusiastic. I haven’t yet drank the Kool-Aid. Will an expression from Suntory’s forest distillery change that?
Nose: Damp leaves on a forest floor, freshly cut flowers, fresh mint leaf, Asian pear, butterscotch, salt, a wisp of smoke Palate: Red apples, honey, grapefruit zest, oak, pine, black pepper, wood char Finish: Medium-long with oak, black pepper, and char Score: 7.5/10
Freshness rules the day here. The nose is evocative of a walk through the forest after a spring rain. Damp earth and fresh flora unfurl into fresh fruit and butterscotch and a kiss of smoke and salt. The palate reveals more fruit and finishes with a decidedly woody character–one could be convinced some of spirit was aged in virgin oak. This is the Japanese whiskey I’ve been looking for. Restrained and subtle initially, with a stunningly fresh character. Patience unveils layers of complexity and balance.
