Sep 182016
 

18 September 2016

Today is September 18th. The day after my 12th wedding anniversary. We were kid-free last night (mother-in-law swooped in and took for the night), so had a lovely night together, just the wife and I. Nice to have that time together before leaving for a longish stretch. We’ll get the kids back around noon today, I imagine. After that I will milk every last minute with my beautiful daughters, before hopping the plane for Glasgow tomorrow morning. In short, I think this is the last lead-up post before we hit Scottish soil. Not sure if I’ll be able to do much blogging from there, so we may not be in touch (excepting Twitter and Facebook) until I return to Canadian soil. So how ‘bout one last jotting before go time?

I did promise to introduce this ragtag assortment of beasts who are travelling together, so…who are these strapping young men (and withered old bastards)?

Tone. The little big man. At one point in his misguided younger days he was a bit of a rummie, but fortunately we’ve managed to fix that. Tone brings an easygoing Rasta swagger to his day-to-day and a watchful ‘take it all in’ kinda vantage. His laid back styles will be the mellowing influence that helps me fully appreciate the slower side of things. And considering we’ll already be on Islay time that will be slow indeed.

Danny. The ‘Viking’. Or ‘The Beard’. No one I know has embraced malts with this sort of enthusiasm, eidetic memory and…errr…let’s face it, thirst, since…well, ever. Of all the guys that need the fierce might of Islay malts to smash headlong into their huge personality it would be Danny. There’s a profound hunger for good times in this lad. And I’m sure we’ll find some with him in tow (or in the lead?).

Steve. Generally we call him Simcoe. He’s a quiet ‘un. Until you wind him up with a couple drinks and start discussing social programs, Canadian government or some of the more delicate societal issues many folks think about but few dare to tackle head-on. Then he’s a regular Charlie Mothafuckin’ Bronson. Steve’s like me in many ways; far too buried in big city life these past few years. I think his internal baggage and mine will fall away at the same time. The moment our feet touch town on foreign shores and the pull of real world ‘adulthood’ lessens.

And of course yours truly. Wordslinger. Shit disturber. Sadist. Masochist. Whatever. If you’ve been visiting here for a while you all know me. ‘Nough said.

I think we’ve ironed out all our wee little travel wrinkles and, as much as possible, are about ready to go. Unfortunately it’s now looking like the surprise I was hoping to have come to fruition (and have been hinting at) is probably not gonna happen. Can’t lie; I’m a little heartbroken. It would have made for some cool blogging, but more importantly, some cool memories. Such is. Just in case some miracle happens to come together, I’ll still not reveal here until after the trip.

I plan to share all details when we get back, but unfortunately I’ve simply run out of time to give any more notes on the leadup and planning stages. As always, I’ll take meticulous notes on the daily ins and outs, as well as all drams sampled along the way. Well…notes of what drams were sampled, not necessarily notes on the drams themselves.

Look forward to catching up with you soon, mates. Gotta run. 24 hours of family time ‘til wheels up. Peace.

 

 – Curt

 Posted by at 8:02 am
Sep 112016
 

11 Sep 2016

Nine days now. Guess we should backtrack a little, yeah?

Getting a third solo trip off in a matter of a few years is not an easy thing. Marriage and kids means compromise and buckets of understanding. Oh…and likely some serious spa time or something as recompense. I won’t get into the actual negotiation process here, but suffice it to say that some conditions needed to be met in order to make this happen as regards the homefront. Once we had that squared away it was time to start tackling logistics.  I should mention (and not because I have to) that my wife is beyond amazing.  Honestly.

First things first. September is a great time to visit Islay. The weather is mild; the crowds non-existent; personal attention at the distilleries at soaring heights; and the overall experience less geared toward the masses and more…specialized in many ways. While all of these things are incentive enough to travel at this time, the reality is I go to Islay not just for the malts. For me it is a disconnect from the ‘real world’. When I get tired of being an adult and simply need to let my mind turn to simpler things I know it’s time to go back ‘home’.

Locking down accommodations early on the island is paramount. That and travel arrangements. The distilleries are unquestionably the most flexible part of the trip. In fact each time over I’ve booked, then rebooked, then sometimes made third adjustments to either the tours themselves or the dates and times for each. I always start by roughing out an idea as to when I’ll hit each distillery, then figuring out the most logical base from which to operate.  As Bowmore is most central, most of my time is spent there.

We four (whom I’ll introduce in the next blog) arrive in Scot(ch)land on the morning of the 20th. We land in Glasgow at about 8:00 am.  Plans are to leave our luggage at the hotel (right across the way from the airport), find a quick breakie and head to Auchentoshan for the first of ten distillery visits on this little pilgrimage. Not sure what the afternoon plans entail, but the eve will most likely see a reunion with an old friend, Mark Connelly, at the famous Bon Accord whisky bar. This will be a test of willpower, to say the least. Early plans are to be on somewhat good behavior, in order to be fresh for an early start and 8:30 am flight to Islay. Not to mention we’ll have been on the go for a day and a half (or more, unless the lads can sleep on our flights) without sleep by this point.

Day two sees us land at Islay’s itsy bitsy airport at 9:10 am and head straight from there to Kilchoman. Perhaps we’ll do a drive by the Lochindaal Hotel in Port Charlotte to drop our bags before spending the morning at Islay’s micro distillery. We’ll have a quick lunch at the distillery’s wonderful café after the Premium Tour, then beeline it straight for Bruichladdich to meet up with my mate, Allan Logan. Plans are to spend the afternoon with the good folks in teal until they finally tire of our hijinks and send us packing for Port Charlotte. At that point…dinner and drinks at the Lochindaal.

Day three: Bunnahabhain and Caol Ila. In other words, the redheaded stepchild, northeastern part of the island. If visitors to the island need to shortlist their distillery hitlist these are typically the first two casualties. Truly a shame that folks would elect to skip these ones, as both are situated on some of the most beautiful of the island’s terrain. Bunna is an absolutely stunning old relic and Caol Ila is a lumbering beast that helps put distilleries like Kilchoman, Ardbeg and Bruichladdich in proper perspective (though all for different reasons). Bunna will be the Dram Tour, while Caol Ila will be the Premium Tour.  Both, in my humble opinion, also produce some of the whisky world’s most underrated malts.

Day four: We’ll be leaving Port Charlotte, and the familial comfort of Iain and Katie’s Lochindaal Hotel, in order to make Bowmore our home base for the duration of the trip. We’ll have breakfast with Iain before taxiing around the loch to drop our bags at Meadowside Bed and Breakfast (the wonderful home-y lodging of my friend Kate McAffer), and then continuing on to Ardbeg. The tours/experiences we initially hoped for at Ardbeg sadly became obsolete during the planning process. I emailed back and forth with some friends at the distillery and it looks like we’ll have a special day lined up for us irrespective of initial disappointment. Just what that actually means…who knows? We’re happy to play it by ear though, and trust in the folks with the keys to the kingdom (Jackie, Mickey et al). We’ll do lunch at the Old Kiln Café and spend the afternoon soaking up the atmosphere (and drams).  This eve should see our first foray to the legendary Duffies whisky bar in Bowmore.

Day five: Hitting the water to venture across to neighbouring Jura. Just so happens that for the third time my journey coincides with the Jura music festival. This time we’ll be there to check out some of the festivities after we take part in the upgraded Sweet And Smoky Experience at the distillery. We’ll scout a bit of this deer-riddled isle (standing stones, the house that Orwell brought to fame, the Paps, Corryvreckan?) before back to Bowmore for evening drinks and din.

Day six: One of the island’s most amazing places: Laphroaig. This distillery is utterly beautiful and run with such profound attention to detail and obvious love that it is unquestionably palpable when you visit. It’s also arguable I tend to linger ‘round Laphroaig longer when I visit Islay than at any other distillery. We’ll be doing the Distiller’s Wares tour. Two and half hours of boggy bliss. At the end of the formal bit of the tour we’ll be doing some cask sampling and bottling our own souvenir to bring home. Cannae wait.

The evening will see us touring the southern part of the island, before drowning our livers at Duffies.

Day seven: Lagavulin. Unfortunately we just had the rug pulled out from under us again. We had booked and confirmed for a 9:30 am tour, followed by a warehouse tasting with (I believe) Lagavulin legend, Iain MacArthur. And much like last time over, the distillery has gotten back to me to cancel the tour, as they’re entering silent season for distillery maintenance. We’ll still get the warehouse deal, but will not get to scout around the stills and such. I’m trying to negotiate, but not really optimistic. Sigh. Diageo is nothing if not rigid and set in their path.  Kinda think there should be a contingency plan on behalf of the company in these sorts of cases, as many people make this a once-in-a-lifetime trip and to be rebuffed…well…let’s just say it sucks.

Again we’ll spend the evening touring, but the northern part of the island this time. And perhaps a visit to Islay’s brewery, Islay Ales, to sample some of the local grog.  I’m sure a few cold ones will be welcome after the fiery heat of peated drams thus far.

Day eight: Last day on the island, and what a way to go out. We’re booked for the Craftsman’s Tour at Bowmore. Quite a finale, this is one of the most impressive of the island’s tours available to visitors and malt lovers. A visit to the Number 1 Vaults is icing on the cake for any Islay trip. There’s no way we were missing this opportunity. I’ll save details for later, but trust me…this experience is a magical one.

We’ll fly out at about 6:00 pm and try to take in a little more of Glasgow before a morning flight on the 28th takes us back to our loved ones and familiar beds. I imagine it will be much like the Spirit Of The West song by this point: “You’ll have to excuse me, I’m not at my best, I’ve been gone for a week, I’ve been drunk since I left, And these so-called vacations will soon be my death, I’m so sick from the drink, I need home for a rest.”

There are many, many details planned along the way (and some very special drams), but I’ll save those jottings for the day to day entries after it’s all gone down. Cause let’s face it…things change. You can bet, however, that our eves will be spent in the pubs, our bellies will be filled with great home fare (both malts and meals), our days will be spent walking the coastlines and sharing drams and that there will be some sheep that may want to go into hiding when they hear the first loud ‘eh’ from we sodden Canucks. 😉

And yes…I still have a bit of a reveal coming for ya. Just waiting on finalization, but should be able to share the word in a couple days at the latest. If all goes as I hope, there will be some cool shit coming. Fingers crossed.

More details to come, friends.

 

 – Curt

 Posted by at 2:48 pm
Sep 022016
 

I meant to get this little trip ‘diary’ kicked off much sooner than now, but as John Lennon said “life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans”. 2016 has been a rough year so far. In fact, this trip nearly got pushed off yet again, but I reached a point where I dug my heels in and said ‘I need this’. And so we’re going.  Takeoff is 10 am, September 19th.

Those of you who have been with us on ATW since the early days will be well aware that I’ve done this trip a couple times now (with variations along the way), and spent an awful lot of words sharing the experience in a travel blog sort of scenario. The first time was a solo jaunt that took me from love to infatuation. I was overwhelmed with all that Islay is, was and continues to offer going forward. I’m sure the rose-colored glasses thing had something to do with it, but the trip was truly magical. I’d go so far as to say it changed who I am fundamentally. But doesn’t solo travel always do that?

The second journey over was a vastly different experience. Less beholden to the serenity of introspection and intimate one-on-one treatment, but beautifully bombastic with the shared energy of five guys shucking the daily grind and escaping to this land of malt and waves. Having the right companions makes all the difference. The five of us meshed incredibly well.

Both trips hold incredibly special places in my heart.

This time ‘round it will be four of us heading over. Laidback, easygoing fellows with an eye to letting the current take us where it may. The hard bookings are made (flights, accommodations, distillery tours), but the rest of the trip will be more free form. And that excites me.

I think we’ll be a little more nitty gritty with our coverage this time ‘round. The more sordid details and all. And hopefully a little more timely too. I’m actually thinking about asking if any of the other lads care to share a bit of their story here on the site. We’ll see.

Oh yeah…and I should mention…there is a little something in the works for this trip that is infinitely exciting for me if it does indeed come to fruition. I’ll not spill details yet, but you’ll be first to know if it does happen.

Much, much more to come.

Seventeen days ‘til wheels up.

 

– Curt

 Posted by at 9:36 am
Aug 282016
 

Apologies, all.  Something crashed here.  Not sure if it was WordPress, Suffusion (the theme you’re used to seeing here) or a server issue.  Pretty sure it was the second.  If you’ve visited in the last day or so you’ll know the site looked as archaic as Pong or Asteroids for a bit.  No idea what happened, but I think we’re on the up and up now.

Thanks for standing by.

Now…back to our regularly scheduled programming.

 

– C

 Posted by at 9:57 am
Aug 252016
 

Kavalan Solist Sherry S100209017AIMG_2374

57.8% abv

Score:  90/100

 

I am a huge fan of the Solist brand from Kavalan.  In fact, one of the single greatest malts I’ve ever tried in my life was an earlier edition of this very same expression.  That bottle is inextricably tied to some very special memories now, but I can’t help but mourn it nevertheless.  More than that, though, I wish I could step back in time and kick myself for not buying more than one bottle of it when I had the opportunity.

If you’ve not tried these cask strength sherry bombs you’ll likely have no idea as to just how over-the-top rich and expressive they can be.  Thick and gargantuan, in fact.  Unquestionably some of the biggest drams I’ve drunk.  I compare my contemporary Solist Sherry experiences with first meeting Aberour a’bunadh all those years ago.

If you’re looking for some sort of metrics or comparables in the Scotch whisky world the closest approximation I can give you to a dram like this would be a 40 year old sherry-matured Longmorn or GlenDronach or something akin.  And even then, the flavours won’t align with expectations.  Kavalan matures very rapidly in the subtropical climes of Taiwan, making time less a factor in the spirit’s evolution than ambient temperature and cask breathability.  It makes for an instantly identifiable profile, but sometimes forgoes nuance and complexity in favour of bombast, uniqueness of character and a juicy, spicy profile.  Either way…I love it.  But then again, I wasn’t looking for ‘Scotch redux’.  I’d much rather a drink that carves its own path.

This particular bottling is actually a less than spectacular batch, but even so it scores this high.  Neat stuff, and utterly singular.

*One final note: I did try one batch (read: single cask) of this whisky that was a right mess.  Sulphuric offnotes and a lot of bitter unpleasantness.  Such is the nature of single cask releases.  However…it also serves to illustrate that it’s always worth going back and double checking a brand from time to time.  Fortunately that one bad experience was an anomaly.

Nose:  Rich syrupy dark fruits.  Oily dried fruit.  Coffee and dark chocolate.  Orange zest.  A touch of licorice.  Black cherry.  Fudge.  Molasses.  Strong exotic spices.  A hint of hoisin.  Moist fruitcake.  Dark soil.  Prunes.  Very ‘jammy’, as we like to say.

Palate:  Chocolate.  Jammy, stewed fruits.  More of that licorice note.  Big, wet woody notes.  Cold espresso.  A hint of Sen-sens and maybe Fisherman’s Friend cough sweets.  Coffee grounds.  Again…thick jam notes and more on that fruitcake, or Christmas cake, or whatever you want to call it.  Long, long, finish with some neat fruits at the back end.

Thoughts:  Give it time to breathe.  Oxygenation – both in the bottle and the glass – brings this one new dimensions.  Worth giving it some time.

 

 – Images & Words:  Curt

 Posted by at 5:51 pm
Aug 102016
 

Isle Of Jura 1977 Juar064

46% abv

Score:  89/100

 

…and on the heels of that spectacular ’76 Jura we looked at a few days back, here’s the follow-up release: a very different and singular ’77.

Juar: Gaelic for “the yew tree” this time ’round (recall the ’76 referenced the Rowan tree).  This one is nowhere near as spectacularly nuanced as its older sibling, but is perhaps a little more bombastic for all that.  Again, some linguistic pagan origins here to tie this back to a land rich in lore, this time possibly hinting at regeneration, immortality and portals to the “otherword”, if you buy into the marketing fun, that is.  Not to mention that Yggdrasil itself has occasionally been rumoured to possibly have been a yew, and not an ash as most would believe.  Meandering fun, and provides some interesting conversation fodder for the timeless moments spent sipping this wizened old malt.

While quite lovely in its own right, I only wish I could say it lives up to its predecessor.  It’s certainly lively and a deft exercise for the tastebuds though.  And doubtless one of the best Jura I’ve yet tried.

34 years old, but noses younger.

*Took blind tasting notes and subsequently discovered this was port-finished.  Explains the winey-ness about it, doesn’t it?

Nose:  Fruity.  Rich in berries.  Scone dough.  Old books.  Some orange.  And then more orange.  Very slight winey-ness to it.  Rich spicyness.  Warm hot cross buns.  A slight nuttiness (as we find in most Jura).  Salt water taffy.  Hint of smoke.  Old cask.  Great harmony.

Palate:  Those are some tangy fruits.  Black current cough sweets.  Damp woods and grape juice.  Yeah…seems some wine influence.  Or just very tannic wood.  Ginger.  A very pleasant earthy, mineralness about it.  Leaves flavours
reminiscent of unlit cigar tobacco.

Thoughts:  Smells like a mid-aged Speysider.

 

– Images & Words:  Curt

 Posted by at 9:42 pm
Aug 102016
 

Well…in spite of a tumultuous ride of late (or perhaps because of it?), a small contingent of us are indeed bound for Islay in a few weeks.  Long time readers will likely recall both 2010 and 2012 excursions to this land of bog and brine, as those were documented day by day, but perhaps less glamorously documented were the rainchecked trips scheduled for 2014 and 2015.  Suffice it to say, this four year break between visits to my ‘home away from home’ has been far too long.

I’m pretty clear about my biases here on ATW.  My love for Islay, its malts and all its trappings are well and truly acknowledged here.  It should come as no surprise that this little island feels like home to me.  I’ll go one step further: in a way it’s really the only place on earth where I feel completely relaxed and at home.  I was a kid who moved a lot, and have either maintained that nomadic tendency throughout adulthood, or settled for spells in places that held little appeal.  This comment greatly offended my wife at one point, so let me clarify: emotionally, home is wherever my family is, of course, but geographically (and sentimentally, I suppose) home feels more like Islay.

The people are great.  The land is beautiful.  The pace is slow.  The air bracing.  Life…just seems to make more sense there.

Anyway…time to start documenting things here.  Feel free to read along as we go, or wait for the reviews and such in between.

39 days ’til wheels up.

 Posted by at 2:47 pm
Jul 292016
 

Isle Of Jura 1976 Feith A’ Chaorainn068

46% abv

Score:  92/100

 

I think I’ve conceded this here on ATW before:  I have a glaring hole in my common sense and a pseudo-blind spot in some respects when it comes to Jura.  If I’m to be totally honest, several of the whiskies have been less than awesome.  Some have been merely average.  Others have been good.  And some have actually been quite special.  And then, a few steps down the road from there, two or three have actually been spectacular.

The thing with Jura, though, is that it’s wildly inconsistent, generally too wine-heavy and often has a nutty/malty character that doesn’t work for me.  So why then do I give them a bit of a pass?  First off, because I think Jura has improved dramatically in the past few years.  Secondly, and probably most tellingly, I cotton to nearly everything that comes from the Hebridean heaven of Islay, and that sort of carries over to Jura as well.  I’ve romanticized the heck out of the region.  I like to believe that I can still distance myself enough to score fairly, though.  And I think past Jura scores speak to that.

The malt we’re looking at now happens to fall in that last category I mentioned above.  Utterly spectacular.  So let’s dig in…

‘Feith A’ Chaorainn’, means ‘The lands around the Rowan tree’.  Like most contemporary whisky releases, the brand found a cool angle and spun the hell out of it.  This one, fortunately, happens to be cooler than most, and ties back to superstitions surrounding the Rowan tree.  Said superstitions speak of protection for the island’s travellers, guarding against malevolent beings and witchcraft, being the tree from which the first woman in Norse mythology was made, having saved the mighty Thor from a powerful torrent, being the tree on which the devil hung his own mother, a portal between worlds, and is the culmination of a Greek myth involving a lost chalice and the blood and feathers of a gods-sent eagle.  Pick the angle you like best.  All seem rather esoteric and badass in mine eyes.

Oh yeah…and the whisky is at least as good as the tales it is linked to.  Just as magic.  Just as timeless.  This is Jura on the world stage.

Nose:  Soft and beautiful.  The best nose on any Jura I’ve ever met.  Pear.  White flour.  Faintest whiff of latex.
White chocolate.  Roman nougat.  Soft custard notes.  Vanilla.  Nuts.  Rich hard wood (but not shavings or sawdust or anything).  Citrus and oil.  Wet rock.  Just a wee whiff of far off smoke.  Stunning, really.

Palate:  Nice ‘oaky’ cask notes.  Faint touch of char and smokiness (but not peat).  Soft fruits and white baking (biscuits,
scones, buns, something).  Lemon cream.  Rich with oily fruit notes.  Soft pie crust.  Barely steeped green tea.  Faint ginger.  And other light spices.  Leaves very clean oak notes.  Very rich for a 46%er.

Thoughts:  Not just beautiful for Jura, but beautiful for whisky.  Period.  This is an amazing drop.

 

– Images & Words:  Curt

 Posted by at 7:39 am
Jul 262016
 

Kilchoman 10th Anniversary Release091

58.2% abv

Score:  90/100

 

Alright.  Celebrating the distillery’s 10th anniversary…at the 11 year mark.  Oops.  Been sitting on this one for a while.  So be it.  The whisky took years to arrive; why should the review be in any great rush?  Timeliness is the least of my concerns, if I’m being honest.  Not like we’re here to sell product or anything.

This Kilchoman 10th Anniversary Release is a rather special vatting of casks from 2005 through 2012.  In other words…a pile of snapshots from three through ten year old.  And yes…this does include spirit from the famous cask #1.  So while it isn’t really an evolutionary sensory experience, it does give an idea as to how the more mature Kilchoman distillate softens the massive spikes and tors of the younger malt we typically see bottled at about five years old or so.  I should note that, seeing as how that Kilchoman cask #1 is just a wee single barrel, and the outturn for this release was 3,000 bottles, there is likely no more than dribbles of that precious ‘old’ malt in this whisky.  Almost certainly most of cask #1 will still be slumbering away for a future release of prestige and…errr…a much more profound sticker shock.

Either way…this non age-stated (but semi-vintaged) release is a hell of a whisky.  Not even remotely subtle, but somehow still soft and cozy.  Sound like nonsense?  Probably.  But trust me…whiskies this big can still be gentle and approachable.  This is just such a one.

Do we like it?  Yes.  A lot.  Hopefully something like this becomes a permanent part of the Kilchoman range, albeit with a declaration of cask make-up (perhaps something akin to Bruichladdich’s recent campaign?).

And finally…just wanted to say that it’s with a heavy heart that I look at these bottles of Kilchoman that bear the signature of Mr. John MacLellan.  He was a gentle soul, a kind man and the footprints he left behind will be followed by many for years to come.  RIP John.  Thanks for the small bits of time we spent together.

Nose:  Deep smoke.  Dry smoke.  Lots and lots of smoke.  Earthy peat.  Dry, dusty notes.  Definitely some sherry influence here.  BBQ sauce.  Lemon and salt water.  Hay.  Freshly milled barley.  A touch of dill pickle.  Ash.  Berries.  Key lime.  Very sweet.

Palate:  Beautifully sweet arrival that gets absolutely steamrolled by peat and smoke.  Man…this is big.  Peat and pepper-powered.  A lot of naked barley.  Oily.  Big underripe green fruit notes.  Lime zest.  Fennel.  Red/purple grape or plum skins.

Thoughts:  If tasted blind, I would guess Ardbeg.

 

 – Images & Words:  Curt

 Posted by at 3:32 pm
Jul 122016
 

IMG_2357Mortlach 1998 Co-op Exclusive (Gordon & MacPhail)

59.7% abv

Score:  87/100

 

A bottle made even sweeter due to circumstance.  A mate of mine and I laid down a bet at the start of last year’s NFL season: who could pick the most division winners.  Do note…this guy is a junkie for the game and knows waaaaay more than I do.  I got two right (out of eight).  He got one.  For two huge football fans, obviously a pretty pathetic outing.  Goes to show, I suppose, that on any given Sunday…

Anyway, the stakes were a bottle.  No other real parameters.  And this Mortlach single cask was his ‘settling up’ offering.  Hell of a generous dude.  And a Scot to boot.  Known to be ‘frugal’ and all that, right?  I prefer ‘smart with money’.  😉

Said lad presented this one to me at the tail end of a Dram Initiative club tasting a couple months back.  I immediately cracked it and poured out most of it for a roomful of eager malters.  Needless to say it went over like gangbusters.  I kept back a wee bit to be able to write this up and offer public thanks.  So…thanks, Stu!

Bottled exclusively for Co-op Wines & Spirits (and still available at the time of writing!), this is a typical meaty Mortlach.  Seems most Mortlach I’ve drunk of late has been heavier on florals than bovine, but this one takes me back into familiar territory.  Good outing.  And a hell of a lot more exciting than the standard range of generic (aside from the odd bottling strength), overpriced distillery bottlings.

Nose:  Moderate beef note at the fore.  Quite spicy too.  Tea and toast.  Salted meat.  Very dry, overripe berry notes.  Neat nose, if slightly ‘flawed’.  I like it though.  Very, very faintly hints at sulphur.  Big nose, all told.  And yes…there are some sweet fruity notes, but they are ridiculously hard to pin down.  Monk’s Blend tea.

Palate:  Still meaty, but rich and soooo much more than the nose gives us.  Great bold and juicy arrival.  Barley is clear and rich.  Still a slight Bovril meatiness to it, but tempered with chewy dark fruits.  Leathery, with notes of very dry cinnamon and ginger.  Something green and weedy here.  Big barley finish.

Thoughts:  This one stutter-steps into my ‘oddball winners’ category.  Not without its bumps, but its merits make it worthwhile.

 

 – Images & Words:  Curt

 Posted by at 1:07 pm