I saw this on the shelf, at my local liquor store, and thought it was time to revisit it. Fifteen years ago, I was a big fan of this single malt. It was a nuanced honey, barley, golden cereal type of flavor profile that exhibited impressive complexity. It was totally in my wheelhouse: a classic Speysider on the lighter honey based flavor map. Back then, Glenfiddich 15 Solera had a place on my shelf alongside other malts with similar flavor profiles like Cragganmore 12 and Glenmorangie 12 Nectar d'Or.
So, while the security cameras watched my every move in the liquor store, as I hefted the bottle in its tube, I decided to pull the trigger, and approached the cashier. $99! Times have changed. Used to be much cheaper. But, I thought this is a fifteen year old single malt and given that age statement, $99 in Canada is fair. My friends south of the Canadian border are probably getting it for $70 or so. Still fair I think at first glance.
So, I get this bottle home, sit out on the back deck, pull the cork, pour a dram and just let it sit for about 10 minutes or so. Let it breathe. I do this because sometimes the first dram poured too soon tastes a little tight or hot with some single malts. Highland Park 18 comes to mind. Best to open the bottle, have a dram after twenty minutes, and it will taste even more mellow a week from then because of oxidation.
Solera?
While my dram breathes, I think about 'solera' on the label, and what it really means. 'Solera' is a method of aging port and sherry that originated in Portugal and Spain.
Imagine rows of barrels or casks, stacked five or so levels high, all connected by pipes, and sherry drained from the ground level casks is the oldest, and the empty space in the cask is replaced with sherry from the cask of the row above. Meanwhile, as the oldest sherry is bottled by draining the floor level barrels, more young sherry, is poured into top row barrels. This is the purported Solera system, but from what I have read, the term is used very loosely meaning the actual aging and blending of spirit may not be adhering to Spanish tradition outlined above.
The solera technique also is purportedly used by some rum producers. However, I read one rum expert write he had never seen a Solera system employed at any distillery as described above. So, who knows what the truth is? Anyhow, you and I now have some understanding of what Glenfiddich wants you to believe. I suspect the use of the Solera term is more marketing than fact.
Category
Single Malt
Region
Speyside
Age Statement
15 years
ABV
40%
Artificial Color
Yes.
Chill Filtration
Yes.
Availability
Widely distributed.
Price?
For a 15 year old single malt, the price was reasonable. Most single malts of this age statement are priced 40% or so higher.
Wood Management
Ex-sherry casks, European oak, New American Oak.
Nose (undiluted)
Honey, dandelions. Pleasant. Speaks of quality. Light aromas.
Palate (undiluted)
Apple juice, honey, apricots, white grapes, a hint of raspberry.
Finish (undiluted)
Short. Tastes young on the finish of flabby white grapes. Hint of bitterness. Is that ginger? For a 15 year old single malt there should be some length of flavors. Faint, stale note of New York City, yellow taxi cab, cigarette smoke hanging in the backseat.
General Impressions
This may say a 15 year old single malt, but the ingredient whiskies are tasting much younger. Notes of pearl onions . . . ahh not in a good way.
Really disappointing.
15 years ago or so, I really liked this malt, but not now. Somehow, it tastes young. Maybe the ingredient whiskies are much closer to 15 years age statement and years ago it was composed of more older whiskies closer to 18 years? Can't say for sure, but does taste that way.
In a peer review, this used to be on par with Cragganmore 12, but not anymore as Cragganmore continues to outshine this malt. As for Glenmorangie Nectar d'Or, the age statement has been sadly dropped and it too is now a disappointment.
In my college days, I was into the music of Miles Davis. Albums of his like 'Round About Midnight, Kind of Blue and an obscure soundtrack he recorded for a Louis Malle film, Ascenseur pour l'échafaud served as a soundtrack to my leafy campus life.
It was my habit then and today to go real deep into hobbies and interests, which meant I sought out all of Miles' albums. One of them I read a lot about was Bitches Brew. A friend lent me the record (I didn't like CDs then, a purist addicted to the deep timbre of vinyl). I put it on and sat in my dorm room with a French roast coffee (but no black turtleneck and beret) in front of my four foot high or so Yamaha speakers and prepared to be wowed.
I was . . . not. The music sounded like a cacophony of unskilled players all playing out of key to very different melodies and rhythms only known to them. To my ears, the discordant sounds caused me to turn it off within minutes. I couldn't handle. It was auditory chaos. I was more bitter about this listening experience than my coffee.
Fast forward 30 years and I am driving to work and decide to give da Bitches another go. I had basically memorized everything else Davis had done in what I called the classic age, and was frankly a bit bored. So, my ears sip on the Brew once more with no expectations. What the hell? As I get older, I like stuff that pushes the boundaries more and more. I mean now I 'get' Andy Kaufman . . . I think.
Anyhow, the record spins again, only now as an iTunes selection off my iPhone in my car via Bluetooth. I listen. The music starts quiet and builds into a crescendo of electric piano, electric guitar, basses (two different players), drums, trumpet and sax. There is a musical motif here, a theme over there, but each musician approaches these soundscapes in his own, unique way. I am listening and liking the shocking liberties these guys are taking with the conventions of classic jazz I had inhaled since college. And, then it dawned on me, now I GET IT! I understand what Davis was doing on BB. He's bored with the jazz of the past and now throws in discordant sounds hinting at rock and funk music. There are complex layers of melodies and rhythms that fade in and out, some making a singular appearance while others recur. The music sounds random, but it's not. It creates an unnerving atmosphere at certain points, but then becomes soothing at others, kinda like life.
I reviewed Canadian Club 20 years old many years ago . I wasn't kind. I said some incredibly stupid things like Canadian Club 20 years disappoints. Just as I did not understand Bitches Brew 30 years ago, so too I didn't understand Canadian Club 20 years old whisky.
In my old review, I had made the rookie mistake of equating the Canadian whisky category with the single malt Scotch category.
Malted barley exhibited the flavour profile that I seemed to like best. Something magical about malted barley, when combined with great casks, water and of course age. Such a combination delivers amazing golden cereal and honeyed toast notes, sprinkled with berries and plum due to sherry and port casks, and depending on the region, other flavors could emerge like the brine of the sea and the smoke of a bonfire. Great single malts seem to soar to heights of flavour or can at the same time be subtle like the patter of warm summer rain. Expecting these attributes and conventions of spirit, if you will, in Canadian and other whiskies of the world, will only lead to disappointment if Scotch is to be the benchmark of flavor attributes.
Canadian whisky is different. It offers a more narrow palate featuring rye, corn, wheat and big oak at times. This not necessarily a flaw, but a fundamental difference when contrasted with Scotch whisky.
Canadian whisky can be light, yet elegant and complex. The complexity is delivered typically via a backbone of rye, sometimes spicy. Oakiness is not a flaw in Canadian whisky, whereas in the case of Scotch, too much oak is not as pleasant an experience. Lots of oak, so long as not becoming bitter, is an acceptable flavor motif of Canadian whisky, as is the spiced rye notes. In a nutshell, the flavor conventions of Scotch should not be applied to Canadian whisky nor vice versa. Recognize the 'conventions' of each spirit category and appreciate them within that category.
Canadian Club 20 years old Mashbill
Rye, corn, malted barley. ABV
40%
Chill Filtration?
Yes.
Artificial Color?
Yes. Nose (undiluted)
Soft notes of sweet hay, rye, copper pennies, and oak.
Palate (undiluted)
Golden wheat, rye and cinnamon unite in a wonderful way. They are joined by toffee and caramel in a spicy, warm embrace.
Finish (undiluted)
Sweetness is gone with a move to dry toast, creme brulee, sawdust and more rye. Some black pepper too.
General Impressions
Canadian Club 20 years old is an excellent Canadian whisky. It delights in notes of maple sugar, oak and of course Canadian rye for spice and backbone.
Comparing Canadian Club 20 years to Scotch whisky and then proceeding to criticize it for lacking the flavor attributes of Scotch would be a mistake.
Have a sip of Canadian Club 20 years, and maybe you will GET IT! like how I GOT IT! listening to Bitches Brew.
I like the Compass Box Company. They put out some really interesting releases. So, when a reader suggested I continue to explore the product line of this innovative independent bottler, the question was 'where to next?' My reader suggested 'Hedonism.'
'Hedonism' is different from nearly all other offerings of Compass Box or frankly most other Scotch brands period. How is it different? Simple. It's not a single malt, blended malt or blended Scotch whisky. Hedonism is a 'blended grain whisky.'
A blended grain whisky from Scotland will have a little bit of malted barley but is principally a mash bill of other grains like wheat, corn, oats, etc. The various grains are cheaper to acquire than barley. The lower cost grains and the whisky they produce is the chief reason they are used to bulk up blended Scotches.
Additionally, grain whiskies don't enjoy the best reputation because they tend to be young and often aged in inferior casks. So the taste aint the greatest leading to a less than stellar reputation. Think of say Ballantine's Finest, a dreadful blend in my opinion. It is made up of a lot of young grain whiskies that I think were aged in lower quality casks (e.g. not 1st fill or even 2nd fill).
Grain whisky can be good whisky. It can be a delight, but the whiskies need age, careful blending, and good wood management. What would happen if you had an attentive master blender, using aged grain whiskies that matured in first and second fill casks? Would it be good? This is what Hedonism by Compass Box attempts to do.
Region
Scotland
Category
Blended Grain Whisky
ABV
43%
Format
700ml
Age Statement
None
Artificial Color
No
Chill Filtration?
No
Wood Management
Aged in 100% first fill American oak or rejuvenated American oak hogsheads.
Nose (undiluted)
Sweet breads, orange blossoms, honey and buttercups.
Palate (undiluted)
Sweetness but not cloyingly so. Creamy, vanilla, sponge cake, white cake bread, Dutch butter cookies. Oven warm dinner rolls.
Finish (undiluted)
Transition from sweet to dry with kitchen spices of kosher salt, tarragon and oregano. Nice structure of wheat and cereals, and lemon pith too, but just faintly.
General Impressions
I really like this and demonstrates that you do not have to have a single malt in order to enjoy a quality Scotch whisky.
Not sherried and very little if any peat. When this dram passes your lips you are left with a nice lingering spiciness.
I think this would be very well liked by the novice Scotch fan. A newbie would like this. Old whisky dogs might be taught a new trick with this one too.
If you like Glenmorangie 12 Nectar DO'r or Glenfiddich 15 Solera, then you will like this.
This tastes like pineapple, honey, malty with some lemon juice in the background. If I had a slight criticism, it would be that it is quite sweet. However, I don't mind it. For this reason, I really think the Scotch newbie would enjoy this dram.
The brittle leaves, once green, had turned custard yellow, clay brown, red, purple and every stained-glass shade in between. Nippy autumn gusts had scattered the kaleidoscopic foliage all over Roger's lawn.
Our friend had invited Keith and I over this sunny Saturday afternoon to ostensibly hang out, but what he really wanted was cheap labor to rake his yard. While I look fairly rugged in my fir green waxed cotton Barbour and Keith in his worn and patched M65 field jacket, we are actually fairly averse to perspiration. Yes, I know, shocking.
So, we were not warming up to these weekend plans, and instead made collective faux groans of tiredness over steaming espresso. We hoped this near maudlin tactic tinged with a wee larceny would elicit some attempt at bribery from our good friend.
"You guys are shameless," Roger muttered in an Italian sandwhich bistro that morning. He was sipping steaming Earl Grey with extra bergamot, and staring off at college-grade abstract canvasses hanging on the opposite exposed reddish-brown brick wall. Suzanne Vega echoed off the terra-cotta tile floor. Roger liked this quirky artist friendly cafe with the gently whirring ceiling fans, skylights and glass bead doorway separating the kitchen from behind the counter. A place where hemp necklaces, eyebrow piercings, Birkenstocks and back issues of Mother Jones did not seem out of the ordinary. Patrons sip from recycled paper cups containing unbleached tea bags while their sedate, eco-friendly Subarus and Volvo wagons lie in wait curb side.
"Shameless? Maybe," I thought to myself, and as if on cue, Keith and I resumed to catalogue our respective aches and pains to the point of harmonizing like Crosby, Stills & Nash at Woodstock. Suzanne would have jammed with us if only her tour schedule permitted it.
After some back and forth, we negotiated in exchange for our highly sought rake-wielding skill set: barbecued steaks in Cabernet-thyme sauce, adorned with pan fried mushrooms and sweet red onions, baguette, Gorgonzola cheese, spicy frites, and some Saint-Émilion vin Rog had tucked away. I would supply the whisky. Keith agreed to bear half that cost when he got paid next week, which meant I would bear the full cost.
Now, you may think that we were taking Roger for a ride, but he was paying for more than Fall leaf removal. I had expertise to deliver in whisky meal pairing that he would benefit from for years.
I had to earn my supper, so I started thinking.
The question I had to ponder is what is an appropriate whisky in autumn that suitably compliments a steak-frites meal.
A Fall whisky has to be heavy. Fairy dust light Lowland Scotches like Glenkinchie and Auchentoshan are for Spring.
Islay?
Never with grilled steak!
Islay is for seafood. Pair your Ardbeg with oysters or pan fried scallops in butter, a match made in heaven.
What about Speyside honey and spice whiskies like Cragganmore 12, Glenfiddich 15 and Dalwhinnie?
No! Absolutely not! They are orchid delicate. The flavours and complexity are blotted out by the barbecued tenderloin and the spicy frites.
You need a malt flavour profile that can go toe-to-toe with a Gorgonzola and still be there in the 12th round!
You need a sherried malt, hell, a sherry bomb. Think GlenDronach, Glenfarclas, Macallan, Balvenie 15. So, in that vein, I thought I would try something new: Tomatin 18 years. The Tomatin 14 years in Portwood was a dream and suitable, so the 18 should be better.
Tomatin 18 years single malt Scotch is aged for fifteen years in bourbon hogsheads (purportedly Maker's Mark), and then finished for a further three years in first fill Oloroso sherry butts. With an ABV of 46% this non-chill filtered malt should have the strength of flavour and character to not be bullied over by barbecued steak in rustic Gaulic gravy.
Nose (undiluted)
Powerful, punchy red fruit, you smell sherry big time, but woody too, all chased by Cabernet Sauvignon notes.
Palate (undiluted)
Sweet red licorice quickly turning to bold sherry. Mid-palate there is a transition to steak spice, Montreal Steak Spice, Lea and Perrins, or in other words Worcester sauce.
Finish (undiluted)
Tarragon, sage, summer savoury, oak, too woody, damp wood, and in some way is spoilt. Part your lips and breath and taste stale cigarette.
General Impressions
For an 18 year old single malt, this disappoints. It lacks complexity of flavours, the sherry tastes old, stale and somehow spoilt. There is a funkiness, a barnyard quality and Worcester sauce on the finish that makes you wish you had your money back. My gut feeling is that there is a problem with wood management. The quality of casks is just not up to snuff.
This bottle is not flawed, its just a style of whisky with less than ideal ex-sherry casks. It tastes a lot like Tobermory, another less than stellar sherried malt.
Many 12 year old sherried malts would deliver equally well, if not better: GlenDronach 12 comes to mind.
. . .
What did Roger think?
He liked the funky finish of barnyard and spoilt sherry. He said it was distinctly French and something uncouth Anglophones like me could not understand. That's ok, I am content to listen to a Francophile, hailing from Lancashire, spout forth, as I smoke his last Cuban. I can be bought, just not cheaply. So can Keith, our Chinese Canadian friend, who takes another swig of Saint-Émilion vin. We can even endure some more Suzanne Vega, if need be.
Nose (undiluted)
I detect a sweet nose of sherry that is a distinct signature of this blend. With the sherry sweetness is also some peat, wood smoke and anise.
Palate (undiluted)
Sherry red fruits, sweet grains that meld with fennel, anise and hickory wood smoke.
General Impressions
In this category, I am impressed. The grain whiskies are not bitter or overly sweet. They are counter-balanced by the peated malt of the Glenturret Distillery. Nothing offensive here and the smoky backbone underneath the sherry body keeps reeling you in for another sip!
"Nose" (undiluted)
Rich, luxuriant, sweet vanilla, charcoal and dandelion.
"Palate" (undiluted)
Lots of vanilla! More charcoal, spice and ginger accompanies a wonderful sweetness (but not too sweet) that flows towards a floral finish. A complex arrangement of flavors that can appropriately be described as sophisticated and rich. Mid to late palate there is a distinct candycane and angostura bitters note.
"Finish" (undiluted)
Oak and spicy rye linger on the palate in a highly refined manner for a very long time.
General Impressions
Highly recommended! But, not for the whiskey novice and particularly bourbons. This whisky has a very robust flavor profile featuring big oak, charcoal that may not be to everyone's taste. The finish is very long leaving flavors of spiced oak, charcoal and candy cane. The ginger and candy cane contribute to a unique flavor profile that some may not enjoy. Also I find that this bourbon does not benefit from the addition of water in spite of the high ABV. More, I think about it, this bourbon is for the serious American whisky fan looking for something a little different. The ginger and candy cane notes are very unique and not found in any other bourbon I know of.
The typical whisky review starts with the writer trotting out a brief biography of a colorful founder, followed by a quaint history of the distillery, which invariably involves a fire, valiant reconstruction, and a succession of owners that reads like the biblical lineage of the House of David. After the scintillating history lesson, the author veers, as if Stevie Wonder is behind the wheel, into a geography lecture involving an explanation of how the heather adorned landscape, peat bogs and the water running through impacts the flavor profile of the whisky, a narrative that deep down you know it is about as reliable as consulting an astrologer with respect to your love life. Eventually, the whisky critic may move into some utterly confusing technical geek speak about the special steps in distillation and types of cask wood, which frankly, nobody cares about (other than engineers. They always want to know how things work). Finally, we get to the tasting note, which is where we wanted to be in the first place.
There is nothing wrong with the above convention of writing, other than it gets stale mighty quick. I, like many others, am guilty of such fallen cake, yesterday's forgotten donut, style of whisky writing. So, lately I've been trying to stretch the genre a little. I will take ideas from anywhere that spur unusualapproaches to a whisky review and try and run with it. Let's introduce some yeast to the old unleavened writing recipe.
It is interesting how random thoughts lead to other random thoughts that lead to a new way to write about whisky or lead to more random thoughts that lead to very confusing and nonsensical blog posts. My penchant for following my thoughts in absurd directions happened earlier this week when I was in my old college library (pictured above), on a noon hour to do a little work related research. But, once in the library my mind meandered from the reason I was there to a place long ago.
For a couple of years, oh hell twenty odd years or so, basically since I was a student last, in the dark recesses of my mind, I have been haunted by a damn good poem. No! Not of the Andrew Dice Clay variety that were circulating my peers dorm rooms (even I have more class than that).
Back in the mid-1980's, when Belinda Carlisle was a hottie about whom I had impure thoughts, I was in the library ostensibly to write an overdue essay. So, with the Dewey decimal call numbers of some books scrawled on a piece of paper, I and my armload of musty tomes, collapsed into a leather wingback chair in a quiet corner of the library.
Rather than crack open a book and start reading, I, a 5th degree black belt master of procrastination, noticed a couple of volumes on a little table. The remains of some other student's abandoned essay research, no doubt. Modern American poetry books. And what pray tell was my interest in poetry? Nil, nada, non, zilch, zero. But! It beats getting to the task at hand, namely reading some texts for my essay.
As I read, most of the poems were either too hard to understand, downright bizarre, monstrously boring, or snorefests that would cure one's dependence on Ambien. So, what did I do? Yes, that's right! I kept on reading. Finally, I stumble upon a poem that was amazing. It's about this couple walking through a town fair. They are young, in love, yeah it is a little sappy, but well done. I think the poem was called "The Fair" or "Town Fair" by Katherine Anne Porter or Anne Porter. I tried to make a mental note, and thought I will have to copy that poem down and refer to it again.
Years pass, my procrastination abilities well honed, until one day I decide to do a Google search for that poem. The search is a failure. I can't find the poem, and I am unsure which of the two Ms. Porters' wrote it. But, my Google search does lead to an interesting website with a poem by Anne Porter. The interesting little website is called the 'Poem Elf.' The premise of the blog is quite inventive. The lady running the site likes straightforward poetry that one can understand on the first read, and then she likes to tape hard copies of poems on trees in a park, a storefront, park bench, etc. You see, she writes:
"Poem Elf was born out of two inclinations: I like poems and I like secret tricks. The mystery of a poem and elfin mischief come together as I loiter about until I can post these poems in secret around my mid-western city and wherever else I may be.
I am neither a poet nor a scholar. My tastes are pretty simple. I like poems I can comprehend on the first reading and understand over a lifetime. These posted poems are intended for everyone, not just for those few who own a shelf’s length of chapbooks, but also for those who last read a poem on a graduation card.
And what happens to each poem after I leave? Perhaps it lands in a trashcan, pulled down from a wall by an amused janitor; or it’s blown away from its scotch tape fastenings, picked up by a bird, and woven expertly into a nest; or raked into a leaf pile and composted, helping things grow in a different way than I had intended; or shoved in a back pocket, forgotten, and balled up in the wash; or, my best hope, tucked in a stranger’s wallet, pulled out from time to time, each reading bringing an expansion of sorts, each reading taken in like a drink to quench the deep thirst we all have for meaning and beauty."
What an inventive way to promote poetry and enjoy that fine hobby!
So, the Poem Elf got me thinking that maybe there is space in this world for even more elfin mischief: Whisky Elf! I could print off some tasting notes of various whiskies, armed with masking tape, post them in secret around my town. You know, I could visit the local park and tape my tasting note of Highland Park 18yrs to a tree, and maybe the note would resonate with someone and they would go buy a bottle, read the note as they tasted it. Maybe I could post a tasting note of Oban 14 years in a retail garden center, maybe on the pot of peonies, or on the windshield of a car at a dealership and the customer would take the note, buy a bottle and be as enthused as I. Or maybe the customer would call the police, claiming this public enemy number one is promoting alcohol among our youth. An investigation of public mischief and charges of crimes against the public morals would be laid. The criminal inquiry would start with determining who are the usual suspects that would create such a public disturbance and corrupt the morals of the local population? Hmm the coppers would think . . . who could it be? Before I know it, I would find myself, in a basement interrogation room with a naked light bulb paired with a lone mosquito buzzing around it while a burly officer, who looked like he walked off the label of a bottle of Beefeater Gin, would stare at me with folded arms. With his first question, I'd collapse like a folding chair at the beach into a fevered confession. At sentencing, the judge would shut this blog down, I would lose my job and be the scourge (okay, a bigger scourge) of my local town, that would prove once and for all that my community is indeed dripping in Victorian drool.
So, I abandoned the idea of being the "Whisky Elf" of my town, having followed the logic of my above noted random thoughts. Instead, I will continue to just write with elfin attitude, and a mind attuned to new possibilities as to how to bring more people into contact with whisky. Whether it be a conversation with Big Bird in Central Park or me acting as a commentator of a whisky death match, just remember, I am trying to stretch and reinvent the whisky writing genre in an effort to bring more people into our little world.
Great discoveries are often made by accident. Jeff Dufour wrote, in a 2006 article entitled, The History of Bourbon, a happy accident, (click here) that in the late 1780’s, Elijah Craig, a distiller of Bourbon County, Kentucky, took old fish barrels and used them for whisky that was to be shipped to New Orleans. In order to clean out the inside of the fish barrel, he observed the cheapest and most efficient way to do so involved burning the inside with an open flame. The charred interior of the barrel cured any smell or remnants of fish. Thereafter, Mr. Craig would send the barrels of Kentucky whisky by boat to New Orleans, a trip in those days that could take a couple of months. The whisky that arrived in New Orleans tasted better than when it left Kentucky. Suddenly, charring the insides of barrels became a must for Kentucky whisky distillers. The charred wood imparted flavors of vanilla, oak and smoothed out the roughness of the whisky.
What the above story has to do with Basil Hayden’s 8 year old Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whisky, I do not know, but just felt compelled to impart that interesting anecdote to you. “Eric,” a reader of this blog, kindly provided me with a link to Mr. Dufour’s article that enabled me to learn this interesting tidbit in the history of American whisky. Thanks Eric!
In any event, moving right along, lately, I have been sampling Basil Hayden’s bourbon. I first tasted it at a whisky festival in November 2009. I was impressed and decided I needed a bottle for further study and eventual posting of a tasting note. Unlike a lot of reviewers on the web, I try to only post tasting notes based on my sampling of a bottle. I do not think an adequate opinion of a whisky can be formulated from a tiny 200ml bottle or at a whisky tasting. I need a bottle that I can return to several times over different evenings before coming to a conclusion as to a whisky’s merits and defects.
Nose (undiluted)
Floral, vanilla, corn husk.
Palate (undiluted)
Light bodied, gentle corn and rye tang, distinctive of bourbon, graces your taste buds like a tiny dancer. Summer easy sweet charcoal, like a wheeping willow tree graced by a light breeze. Caramel flavors hang in the background throughout the tasting.
Finish (undiluted)
Sweet corn, a little rye warmth, and the flotsam jetsam charcoal/vanilla flavors culminating in some of the mildest spice I have ever experienced in bourbon.
General Impressions
My immediate impression of this bourbon is that it is very light bodied and consequently easy drinking. Very easy! This is not spicy. Yes, there is some spice, but it is so mild that the word “spice” hardly seems appropriate. It would be the perfect ingredient in mixed drinks calling for bourbon, except it is too expensive to be used as mix. It is a mere 80 proof and tastes like less. This bourbon is so mild that if you have never had bourbon or always added ice or water, well if there was ever a time to try it straight, it would be now.
As a general statement, it is fair to say that when bourbon is sweet, it is due to the corn grain used. Rye provides spice. Without checking Basil Hayden’s website (click here) I was sure there was less rye (meaning more corn) in this bourbon recipe than typically found in other bourbons. Well, guess what? I was dead wrong. There are exceptions to every rule and Basil Hayden is one.
A visit to the website indicates that Basil Hayden’s 8 yr old bourbon is based on a recipe of twice as much rye as corn when compared to the recipes of the remainder of the Small Batch collection marketed by Beam Global Spirits and Wine Inc., namely: Knob Creek, Booker’s and Baker’s. Trouble is: Knob Creek and the others are a helluva lot more spicy, robust and challenging than Basil Hayden’s, but I guess it is not due to the rye content.
Anyway, back to my impressions of this bourbon. I am a bit underwhelmed (is that a word?) given the premium price for a whisky marketed as an ultra-premium bourbon. Why? This bourbon just lacks pizzazz. It’s too smooth, no burn going down, so gentle that you can never mind all that advice about taking little sips I make in other reviews. It lacks any challenge or intrigue. It's belongs in the featherweight bourbon division (there is no such division, I just made that up!).
Something can be simple yet interesting or memorable. We see this all the time in music. Take the catchy guitar riff in Daytripper by the Beatles or Satisfaction by the Rolling Stones. The music is simple but its gotta 'hook' that brings you back for more. Whisky may be understood the same way. Jim Beam Black, Johnnie Walker Black are not overly complex, but have that “hook” that brings you back again and again for another sip. Basil Hayden’s lacks that hook in terms of flavor. For that reason, I would not buy it again, not because it is bad but rather because it is not "great."
So, who should buy this? If you are trying bourbon for the first time, this would be worth getting to know before you try much more robust and superior bourbons of the heavyweight division like Wild Turkey 101 and Knob Creek. Trust me, the latter whiskies will knock you out with a punch you won't see coming!
Recently, an anonymous poster, B. Linn, asked me to try the Yamazaki 18 year old again. In my review of this spirit’s younger sibling, the 12 year old, I mentioned that I had sampled it (the 18) on a couple of occasions with disappointing results. I was surprised because the Yamazaki 18 has enjoyed virtually universal praise from critics. So, when I sampled it and couldn’t figure out what all the fuss was about, I did doubt myself.
Now, in fairness to the Yamazaki 18, the first time I tried it was at a whisky festival, in a poorly lit, cavernous hotel ballroom, with brand ambassadors of a multitude of distilleries hawking their wares to me as if they were working a bazaar in Aleppo or Beirut. It was a noisy, confused gathering of whisky lovers and wannabes. I fit right in. Nevertheless, I was underwhelmed with the 18. Mind you, I had been eating English Stilton cheese, and tasting other whiskies too.
The second time I had it was at a pub following some Maker’s Mark. Again I was not impressed and not quite sure what to make of it. I thought it tasted of fish oil and maybe some seafood recipe out of a dog-eared, yellow, sun-damaged copy of Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking.
I knew that I needed to purchase a bottle, have a clear head and palate in order to properly taste this whisky. So, this week I swiped a bottle of Suntory Yamazaki 12 year old Single Malt, took it home, and that evening, three hours following dinner, pulled it out of its packaging, poured a dram into a crystal brandy snifter, warmed it up in my hand, and prepared to sample it for the purpose of this tasting note.
Color Dark amber. One of the darkest whiskies I have ever seen.
Nose Very Subtle oak, sherry and malty tones.
Palate Upon sipping this whiskey, one is impressed by the weight and viscosity, which opens upon the palate with waves of warm baklava dripping in syrup, honey and pistachios. You will taste marzipan and Turkish Delight. Dried Moroccan dates and other dark fruit. There are sweet spices at play with broken cinnamon sticks. All of this caught up in a cloud of smoke.
The flavors evoke thoughts of the Mediterranean sea and all its ports. There are the Greek Islands, Istanbul and Larnaca to name a few. All provide patios of villas, perched high above sea level, where one might gaze at the calm blue sea and sip Turkish coffee in between bites of dates, baklava and other desserts in the dry, summer heat.
Finish Upon swallowing, you are again feeling the sun’s warmth and the sensation of it drying across the palate. Lingering malty flavors with smokey salt and exotic spices. This warming, drying sensation is very memorable.
General Impressions Smooth, rich, luxuriant, decadent, dried fruit with a scintilla of peat and smoke are all words that hint at what awaits in a bottle of Suntory Yamazaki 18 year old. It may be Japanese single malt whisky, but sure conjures up memories of Middle Eastern dessert for me.
In terms of single malt scotch, as a point of reference, this whisky shares flavor profile similarities with Dalwhinnie.
So, in conclusion Yamazaki 18 year old is very good! This is premium single malt whisky. I take back anything negative I have said about this whisky in the past. Matter of fact, I edited my review of Suntory Yamazaki 12 to delete any criticism. It was not correct, and I attribute my error in judgment due to my palate being corrupted by other spirits, food and those damn scotch brand ambassadors at that whisky festival.
Before I ever tasted bourbon, I associated that particular type of American whisky with a stream of images like: the Alamo, tumbleweed, cowboys and late night John Wayne westerns. Countless great, as well as utterly forgettable, westerns have actors like John Wayne or Clint Eastwood saddle up to the bar and order a bourbon that came in a little shooter glass. They would gulp it down and promptly wince in pain that would flash momentarily across their face.
Nick Passmore in an article entitled “The Kings of Bourbon” for Forbes magazine recounts the history of bourbon following the end of prohibition:
“When repeal of Prohibition came in 1933, people could start drinking again (legally), and the distillers could start making whiskey again (legally). But it takes a long time to make good whiskey. In the interim, imported Scotch, imported gin and imported Canadian whiskey all came flooding in, and imbibers soon developed a taste for them.
As its customer base deserted it, bourbon struggled. Instead of trying to refine it, distillers were forced push their whiskey out the door as quickly and as cheaply as possible. And pretty awful whiskey it was too.”
Given the above cultural mosaic that cluttered my spotted brain, coupled with the above checkered history of bourbon, it is understandable that I did not have an overly positive view of bourbon.
My opinion changed when I tried Jim Beam Black bourbon during a visit to the United States. I always make an effort to try the libations of the locals wherever I travel, and so I found myself, much like those cowboys in the western, sitting at the bar staring at amber liquid in a glass. Ahh, a legend in my own mind.
Besides Jim Beam Black, I have also reviewed Knob Creek. It get’s a big thumbs up too! So, when my brother showed up at my place at Christmas time with a bottle of Wild Turkey 101, as per my request, I knew I was in for a treat.
Wild Turkey 101
The ‘101’ in the name of this brand is an allusion to the 50.5% alcohol/volume or 101 proof! Not a trifling amount. Now, I know what you are thinking “. . . this is gonna taste like battery acid!” Not at all. You will be surprised if you give this Kentucky bourbon a taste.
At this point, I just have to tell you the quaint Norman Rockwellesque story of how the Wild Turkey 101 brand name came about.
In the 1940’s, Thomas McCarthy, the president of the Austin Nichols company (the company that owns this particular bourbon distillery), was going on a wild turkey hunting trip. He decided to select some choice 101 proof bourbon, from the company stocks, that would be shared with his friends during the trip. In subsequent years, McCarthy’s friends “always requested that Wild Turkey bourbon” and so a brand was born.
Nose (undiluted)
Classic bourbon bouquet of big time vanilla and sweet corn rising up from the bottom of my brandy snifter. The scent of red licorice also makes an appearance. I like this!
Palate (undiluted)
A rip roarin' entry of sweet corn and warm caramel, reminiscent of the hardened top surface of crème brûlée explodes across the palate. Mid-palate is where the spiciness of the rye says: “Hello!” or maybe “Whatcha doin’ there neighbor? C’mon over!” Besides the rye is that hickory wood smoke that is present, but not over-powering.
Mid-palate transitions to dark French toast drizzled with maple syrup, some old-fashioned molasses, charcoal, oak and of course, lots of vanilla. While the initial entry upon the palate was distinctly sweet corn, the middle and final stages of the tasting are dry, concentrated layers of oak, vanilla and cigar smoke.
Finish (undiluted)
The longest lasting flavors left lingering are of spicy rye, uncrushed peppercorns and, to a much lesser extent, vanilla. The flavors hang upon the palate for a considerable amount of time, about as long a rodeo cowboy on a bucking bull.
General Impressions
Big bodied, concentrated, powerful. Somewhat smoother than Knob Creek, but don’t worry, this is by no means a Plain Jane whisky. Plenty of flavors kick that palate into high gear. Please note, I am not saying Knob Creek bourbon is rough, but rather a more robust flavor profile than Wild Turkey 101.
Wild Turkey 101 delivers a robust, challenging bourbon to the palate that must be savored in small sips if consumed neat. In a nutshell, you will enjoy flavors of oak, vanilla and charcoal. Wild Turkey is among the most powerful bourbons, as opposed to the very delicate, ethereal ones like Four Roses and Basil Hayden’s.
As much as I like it, I would not recommend it to someone who is not familiar with bourbon. This is a big drink with a lot of punch. At the very least, if someone was interested in trying this as their first venture in the bourbon world, I would strongly recommend trying it with two big ice cubes in a tumbler, wait two to three minutes and then sip. The ice will tame the wild aspects of the flavors that roll into the palate like a Mac truck.
I am astounded that it is 50.5% alcohol/volume, and at the same time delivers an enjoyable taste without a nasty bite of alcohol. Matter of fact, you do not taste any alcohol. No need to add water in order to tame the flavor profile. If you prefer to add ice, it will be a beautiful marriage that you just arranged!
Value for Money?
“Uh huh, you betcha pardner . . .” The price is very reasonable. Good value for your dollar spent. Wild Turkey 101 can be purchased for as little as $19.99. It does not come in a fancy, cardboard sleeve like many whiskies or scotches (i.e. Johnnie Walker Black), and so it does not carry the cachet or snob appeal of those others. The marketing of this bourbon no doubt is like the philosophy of many Americans of Kentucky, unpretentious, honest and to the point.
Dalwhinnie 15 years Highland Single Malt Scotch Region
Highlands.
Closure
Cork.
ABV
43%
Wood Management
Aged exclusively in ex-bourbon casks. However, Distiller's Editions released by this distillery frequently involve some aging in ex-Oloroso sherry casks.
Nose (undiluted)
Vanilla, lemon, apple blossoms, pears.
Palate (undiluted)
Apple skins, bruised apple sweetness, salted almonds drizzled in honey, caramel, syrup and barley toys.
Mid-to-Late Palate
Spiciness emerges, baking soda, black pepper, but only slightly.
Finish (undiluted)
Drying malt, pencil lead, graphite, oak, balsa, a wee smoke, peat and heather.
General Impressions
Whenever I encounter the flavor profile of Dalwhinnie, the best word to describe a unique aspect of the flavor profile at mid-palate is the word 'heather.' I hate to use a term that I cannot define well. Who eats heather? What does it taste like? Heather is a common, low-lying shrub that goes by the latin name of "Calluna vulgaris." Wikipedia states that it has a characteristic strong taste. Bee hives located near bogs or moorland containing heather tend to produce a much stronger variety of honey. So, when I use the term 'heather' think of it as that taste you experience of the other flavors on steroids so to speak. "Heather honey" is stronger than ordinary honey.
In any event, the heather works beautifully with the honey, cinammon, cocoa, coffee and other flavors (ie. oak) in this Highland malt.
Tasted neat, it's a single malt scotch that starts out silky, very sweet, but quickly develops very rich honey flavors. Nothing bitter or too robust that will put off the novice drinkers.
Dalwhinnie also delivers 'some' complexity of flavor that will set it apart from others. I say 'some' because it is not overly so.
I recommend this as a great gift to all those who want an inoffensive, yet interesting Highland single malt.
"For relaxing times . . . make it Suntory times." This famous line comes from the quirky and highly entertaining film, Lost in Translation. Bill Murray portrays an American actor in Japan for the purpose of doing an advertisement for Suntory whisky. The film gave tremendous exposure for the Yamazaki whiskey to the rest of the world, particularly, North America. Suntory have always run a lot of whisky ads with film stars too like Sean Connery. If you go on "You Tube" and search Suntory Advertisements you can see them for your self. Really quite entertaining. Getting back to the movie line above, I can personally attest that Suntory's Yamazaki 12yr old makes for relaxing times!
Single malt whisky can be distilled outside of Scotland! As much as scotch afficionados think only Scotland can deliver the finest whisky in the world, there are contenders elsewhere within grasp of taking the title.
Japan is home to a great distillery, Yamazaki, owned by the Suntory conglomerate. Matter of fact, this distillery was the first single malt distillery outside of Scotland. It was founded in 1923 in the Vale of Yamazaki, on the outskirts of Kyoto. The site was selected for its access to fresh air, pure water and ideal humidity for aging whisky in casks.
The Japanese love their whisky and like most endeavours that they attempt, they succeed when it comes to producing a great single malt whiskey. It is the Yamazaki 12 year old. My tasting note is as follows:
Nose
The aromas are a little different from what I expected. At first a little strong waft of alcohol, but sniffed more carefully, I detect malt and cereal. The nose is not impressive. Hard to read and so I really had no idea what would unfold upon tasting.
Palate
This is medium bodied to heavy. It has a viscous texture releasing malt, chocolate, sweet spice and some peat. It starts out sweet but by the finish starts to dry across the palate. Incredibly smooth dram of honey and cinammon. Could easily pass for a 12 year old Speyside single malt in a blind tasting test.
Finish
Nice length of flavors. Lingering cinammon/burnt toast and faint echo of peat, black tea and mint.
General Impressions
I like this a lot. It is interesting and totally inoffensive. Tastes like scotch and if I was conducting a blind taste test, I am sure it would pass for a Speyside as I mentioned above. Sophisticated, silky and reasonably priced too. You buy this and can be assured that you are receiving value for money. I rank this better than other 12 year old single malts like Glenfiddich and Glenlivet, but not as complex as say Cragganmore 12.
This is a sweet whisky with drying qualities upon the finish. Dalwhinnie is a good reference point for comparisons with this whisky.
What you will not taste in the Yamazaki 12 yr old is: sherry, tobacco and peat beyond a little tease.
The Yamazaki 12 yr old has made a new fan! I hope you will give it a try sometime. You will not be disappointed.
Rodney Dangerfield & Bourbon
The late, great comedian, Rodney Dangerfield, and bourbon share at least one common characteristic: “No respect.”
A lot of my scotch drinking friends and the whisky media regularly scoff at the idea of bourbon being a spirit that can be used in the same sentence as scotch. “Why?” you ask. They claim bourbon lacks the ‘complexity’ of flavors that scotch can deliver. While I will concede bourbon is probably less complex than top end scotches, nevertheless, it can offer complexity that beats out many scotches and provides a most enjoyable drinking experience.
It all comes down to how much you want to spend. Famous Grouse or J&B blended scotches are hardly complex in terms of flavor profile. Similarly, Jim Beam White Label is not complex. However, if you move up the Jim Beam product line (premium bourbon aged 8 yrs), complexity emerges. Jim Beam Black has some complexity but not a lot. Move into the ultra premium bourbons like Knob Creek (owned by Beam Global Spirits) and you will discover impressive complexity.
Knob Creek bourbon is aged nine years in new charred American white oak barrels. Nine years is around the very high end of aging for bourbon. There are very few bourbons aged longer than nine years. When bourbon first goes into the barrel it is white, crystal clear. The longer it ages, the darker it becomes, taking its’ color from the wood of the barrel. Those barrels are subjected to fire in order to char the wood. This is done because sap or sugars of the wood become absorbed by the bourbon resulting in color change and that charcoal / caramelized sugar taste that is unique to bourbon. Hence, the longer it ages, the sweeter the bourbon.
Bourbon Ingredients
Barley, corn (at least 51%) and rye grains make up bourbon plus pure water and a particular strain of jug yeast (the type of yeast is unique to each distiller and contributes to the signature taste). In the case of Knob Creek, a much higher percentage of corn is used than the minimum 51% requirement. No other additives are permitted. Also added to such a mash is a bit of mash (called the ‘setback’) from a previous distillation, which functions to ensure consistency of flavor and a signature flavor profile. These basic ingredients, by law, must originate in the United States.
All of the grains used in this bourbon come from within Kentucky. Specifically, within about 80 miles of the distillery.
Price
Ultra premium bourbon like Knob Creek is about twice the price of its entry level brethren. However, even at its price, it is still cheaper than most, if not all, entry level (ie. Glenlivet/Glenfiddich 12yr) scotch. From that perspective, it’s a bargain, as entry level scotch does not have the complexity exhibited by Knob Creek.
You also have to appreciate that a standard bottling of bourbon only has to be aged for two years. Naturally, aging additional years drives up costs.
Shortage?
All 2009 Knob Creek has been sold by the distiller. Apparently, no further orders to the distillery can be filled. Next year’s Knob Creek bottling commenced in October.
The Jim Beam group that owns this brand ran advertising in the Wallstreet Journal and the Washington Post about this ‘shortage.’ Much was made of this shortage, but I would not read too much into it. Their definition of such scarcity is a little self-serving. Oban, Lagavulin and many other single malt scotches have a limited production run each year and typically sell out too within the same calendar year. These distillers do not describe the sold-out situation as a ‘shortage.’ I guess the Jim Beam people just have more creative advertising/marketing people.
Nose (undiluted)
Sniff deeply, tilt the glass, so the bourbon almost touches the bottom of your nose. Big yellow dandelion flower up front, followed by minty, honeyed, rye and orange scented marmalade aromas. Southern refinement and sophistication is what you are enjoying.
Palate (undiluted)
The secret to drinking bourbon (and enjoying it) is a tiny sip. Very tiny! Take a big swig of this and you will instantly regret it as you feel a nasty burn triggering thoughts of air sickness. By taking a little sip the burn is limited or eliminated and in its place are many warming flavors to savor like: sweet corn, crème brule, maple sugar, slightly burnt caramel (but in a most pleasing manner!), a little dark chocolate, big oak, expansive smoked hickory and of course classic Jim Beam charcoal and vanilla.
Finish (undiluted)
Sweet honey/caramelized sugar and vanilla play a tug of war with drying charcoal/oak that eventually wins, as it evaporates across the palate with impressive spiciness.
Add Ice?
Add ice and you have a great party drink! I had a little Christmas party and was pouring this with ice and it was the surpsise hit of the night. Most of the guys were skeptical, but I urged them to try it and within a couple of sips I was hearing "That's good . . ." I must admit that drinking it neat is more for the serious bourbon fan, but with ice, it becomes enjoyable by anyone who likes a little hard stuff on the rocks.
General Impressions
A total pleasure! Big bodied with larger than life flavors of smoked hickory, vanilla, oak, charcoal and maple sugar just impress the heck out of me. This is refined, sophisticated, and balanced. Every element of the flavor profile fits. I wouldn’t change a thing, even if I could.
That being said, I think if you are new to bourbon, this would not be suitable as your first ‘toe in the pond.’ Why? For the novice, if they make the error of taking to big a sip of this spirit, they will likely find it revolting and forever after never try bourbon again. That would be a terrible mistake! I want you to discover the secrets and wonderment of bourbon. So, if you are novice, start with Jim Beam White label or Wild Turkey, add a little ice and take a sip. Once you become accustomed to the standard bottling, it will be time to move on to Black label and other premium bourbons before finally arriving at Knob Creek, Wild Turkey 101, Woodford Reserve and others. A process that would take several months in my opinion if not a year.
Woodford Reserve is direct competition for Knob Creek. I tasted them both side by side and preferred the Knob Creek by a wide margin.
Bottom Line
A fantastic, big bodied bourbon, serving up maple sugar, vanilla and charred oak flavors with sophistication and charm that the American south is known for! This is the reason Knob Creek is the No.1 selling ultra premium bourbon in the world.
A tiny town . . .
. . . is Oban where Gaelic is still spoken by some of the residents in the course of their day. The population is a little over eight thousand but swells in the summer to around twenty five thousand, as it is a favorite coastal tourist resort.
Lots goes on in the little town from the soccer games to "shinty," a field hockey sort of a game played with wooden stick and ball. But for us, we are interested in this little Scottish town because of the distillery, founded in 1794, bearing the same name.
Oban Distillery
The Oban distillery was established by John and Hugh Stephenson. It changed hands many times over the years, built, taken apart, rebuilt, financial troubles, prosperous times, and lots of drama. But, that is not our concern. We care about the magic spirit that is produced by this seaside distillery in a horseshoe bay.
Oban is Expensive
The chief reason for the high price is due to a limited natural water supply that has been negotiated with the local government. The water, of course, imparts the unique flavors of this single malt scotch and gives it dignity.
Multiple Expressions
The most available expression is the 14 year old, but there are three others: Distiller's Edition; 18 year old and a 32 year old. The latter two bottlings are very difficult to obtain. I have not tried the 18 or 32 year old, and so this tasting note is limited to the 14 yr old. And now let's move on to the main event.
Nose (undiluted)
Malty, smoke, citrus, and Florida oranges. Very refined.
Palate (undiluted)
This is big bodied, very malty, single malt scotch. Upon entry it warms the mouth with lots of cereal and malt flavors. Other flavors slowly emerge a little from the background, but more subtle. Flavors like anise, orange chocolate and lemon zest waltz across the palate in a sensuous and careful fashion.
Finish (undiluted)
Swallow this and you will be left with flavors of Grampy's big cigar smoke, more of that malt, glazed brown sugar, chaperoned by soft, slight wafts of peat. The lingering smoke, malt and teensy weensy bit of peat couple to produce a semi-sweet tang offspring. As much as I like the inital and mid-palate flavors, I really look forward to the subdued smokey-malt/peat finish. I also enjoy the lack of over-the-top sherry notes in the flavor presentation. I find lately that too many single malts rely to heavily on sherry casks for aging and the result is an over sherried spirit. Oban is a refreshing departure from the hackneyed practice of overly sherry imbued scotch.
What happens if we add a little water?
Some single malt scotches do not benefit from the addition of water, while others flourish, revealing greater complexity of flavor, and generally sing like a chickadee. Oban is one of the latter such single malts.
Palate (diluted)
To one standard shot, I added half a teaspoon. The water makes the scotch more creamy. The smoke and malt are still there, but now I am picking up milk chocolate shavings, peanut brittle, more pronounced honey and a little heather.
Finish (diluted)
After swallowing, the palate is left with rich cigar smoke, brown sugar and that malty flavor that only a great single malt can deliver. The last impression upon the palate is heavy malt with pepper. More peppery finish with the addition of water.
General Impressions
I am very fond of this single malt scotch. It is very malty, chased by brown sugar, Cuban cigar smoke and a little, very little peat. If consumed neat, I am surprised by the delicate citrus flavors hidden in the background. Well done! While medium bodied and not overly complex (if drank neat) in terms of how the various flavors are weaved together, this is definitely a repeat purchase. Balanced! I really cannot criticize this single malt.
Sometimes I can get in a little bit of a rut with my scotch choices. Generally, I like big bodied, dark caramel and cinammon toast flavor profiles. Trouble is, they can get boring. Oban 14 falls within that category, but is not boring. It has a heavy malt taste with smoke and orange rind that is simply great. It is a superb starter whisky for the single malt newbie, yet very pleasing to the veteran like me who seeks variety on a classic flavor profile.
There are only two possible criticisms of this single malt. First, consumed neat, the flavor profile is not what one would consider "complex." There may be the odd connoiseur who demands greater complexity for the price point charged. I do not regard the lack of high level complexity as a flaw. The flavors are held in such a balanced fashion that it is very enjoyable and pleasing. Besides, if you want more complexity, just add a little water.
The second criticism that could be leveled relates to the price charged. Sometimes deals can be had for this single malt, but they are far and few between. If you see it in the $40's buy as much as you can. Unfortunately, much of it is sold at $60 and above in the United States. In Canada, its close to $90. I will admit the price is heavy and if "value for money" is an important consideration when buying scotch, this may be a reason not to by Oban 14 years.
In any case, I like this and will certainly buy it again! I am still thinking about that initial malty flavor that transitions to orange chocolate and from there becomes smokey and ends with that sweet tang finish! Damn! This is good!
If you take a look at most of the tasting notes I have posted in this blog, you will observe that I praise most of the different scotches. Reviewers of scotch, amateur (myself) and professional (ie. Jim Murray) tend to heap praise on every spirit evaluated. Trouble is, we may give the impression that it is all good. Not so! There are some dogs out there and the question for this post to consider is whether or not Grant's Family Reserve Scotch Whisky is one of them.
Whisky expert, Jim Murray, in his book, Classic Blended Scotch, described Grant's Family Reserve as "A stunner of a whisky, one of the most complex blends the industry will ever produce."
Ok, that is saying a lot. Too much in my opinion. It's one thing to like a blended scotch, but when you make statements like ". . . one of the most complex blends the industry will ever produce" you catch my attention. For me, Murray had thrown down the gauntlet and challenged me through his words. Me, being a big fan of blends, decided to try this blended scotch and see if it lived up to his high pitched praise. I had tried this blend in the past and did not like it one little bit, but in light of Murray's eloquent admiration of the highest order, which is trumpeted on William Grant's & Sons website (http://www.grantusa.com) I decided to second guess my earlier judgment and revisit this very popular brand (4th best selling blended scotch in the world).
Nose (undiluted)
Faint malty notes. Not picking up much else. Not overly inviting.
Nose (diluted)
Water added to this blend seems to accentuate the malty notes.
Palate (undiluted)
You need to take a big slug of this to get any flavor. Don't be shy. This is not a 25 year old single malt that rewards the tiniest of sips with an explosion of splendid flavors. Not so here.
Once you take the medium to big sip, you will be greeted by light/thin flavors of cinnamon stick, cloves, and nutmeg enveloped in an unmistakably grainy, unadulterated alcohol bear hug.
Drank neat, there is no complexity of flavors. I am dumbfounded as to how Jim Murray can say ". . . one of the most complex blends the industry the industry will ever produce." There's truly nothing here.
Palate (diluted)
I added a splash of water (ie. one teaspoon per shot) and was able to detect some creaminess in addition to the malty/cinnamon flavors present when drunk neat. The water lessened the grainy, alcohol soaked backbone of the flavor profile. Bottom line: Water improves this blend.
Finish (undiluted)
Almost non-existent. The finish is gone in a flash and while it lasts, it's mostly a grainy alcohol imbued couple of seconds.
Finish (diluted)
Strangely, the addition of water adds some body to this scotch that translates into a finish with more depth and even a richness to the aforementioned flavors than when drunk neat.
General Impressions
Served neat, this blended scotch tastes cheap mainly due to the alcohol hanging in the background like a groupie at a rock concert. How Jim Murray can praise this blend at all is beyond my comprehension. This is not a stunner of a whisky. It has virtually no complexity of flavor.
Served with a splash of water, this blend improves. Alcohol is toned down, the grainy character is still there but more tolerable, and there is a creamy richness that emerges. Does the addition of water transform this blend into a "stunner?" I think not. It still tastes cheap, but simply more tolerable. Maybe on a very hot summer's day with ice, it would be pleasing or as a base ingredient in a mixed drink.
Whether consumed neat or with water, there is no peat flavors. The constitutent single malts used are Speyside classics: Balvenie and Glenfiddich. You can taste the Balvenie, unfortunately, not enough of it. There is a great deal of grain whisky in this blended scotch, and that is not a good thing.
My lasting impression from tasting this on several occasions is that it Grant's Family Reserve is cheap, bottom shelf, blended scotch, that is not worth the low price charged. For the same price, there are significantly better blends out there like: Black Bottle, White Horse, Teacher's Highland Cream, Johnnie Walker Red, and Cutty Sark.
So how come this blend is one of the top world leaders in sales? I think the combination of the low price, a weak flavor profile that lends itself easily to mixed drinks results in it being a staple of bars around the world.
Bushmills Black Bush
I’ve always felt that Irish whisky never quite gets the respect it so richly deserves. What I mean is that people who go to the local liquor store in search of a whisky as a gift often reach for scotch, much like people who know little about wine automatically reach for French wine. Just as there are many great wines produced outside of France, the same can be said of great whisky being found outside of Scotland. Ireland is a case in point.
Bushmills Black Bush is one of a number of whiskies produced by the distiller, Old Bushmills Distillery, located in the village of Bushmills, in the county of Antrim, Northern Ireland. The claim to fame of this distillery is its age. It was founded in 1784 and needless to say with such a long history, they have perfected the production of fine whisky.
Irish Whisky versus Scotch
In general, the most obvious difference between Irish whisky and scotch is the lack of peat and smoke in the former. This is due to the lack of peat during the distillation process. There is an exception of course to this generalization, Connemara Peated Irish Malt has peat and smoke flavors.
Composition
Black Bush is made up primarily of single malts and the remainder with grain whiskies. The majority of single malts used in this blended whisky results in a rich dram with big rounded flavors of chocolate and malt that is memorable, but subdued at the same time.
No age is stated, but I am convinced that the whiskies making up this spirit are in the vicinity of ten years. There is a real depth of character to this whisky. While it is aged in former Oloroso sherry casks, it is not what I would characterize as a sherried whisky. A small percentage of grain whisky is blended to give it a sweet character. This is a sweet whisky but not overly so.
Serving Suggestion
This is too fine to use in a mixed drink. This is deserving of being consumed neat or with a little water or ice. This tasting note was based on a neat serving.
Nose (undiluted)
Restrained. No over-the-top aromas wafting up. Instead, nosing this whisky will result in the enjoyment of delicate, soft notes of malt, warm fruitcake and molten chocolate.
Palate (undiluted)
Smooth, sweet chocolate mousse introduction followed by a nuttiness, think of cashews and brazil nuts. Next comes some spiciness, but not to the point of being peppery. The spiciness rests upon a malty background mixed with some dark fruitcake. Really intriguing. This is medium bodied.
Finish (undiluted)
Medium to short finish. Chocolate mousse again, oak and soft spices combine to be gentle and never offensive. No bite on the palate. Nice, but relatively short lingering warmth of spice box upon the palate rounds out this taste experience.
Final Thoughts
Rich, mildly sophisticated, but not so special that you cannot properly enjoy it in the presence of friends in a pub. Put another away, you can drink this casually and marvel at its smooth yet gentle spices, without thinking I am wasting my money by not paying more attention to it. This is not Royal Salute, Johnnie Walker Blue or Ballantines 17, all of which cannot be tossed back casually in a pub, unless you are a billionaire. The very reasonable price of Bushmills Black Bush makes it accessible.
Black Bush is not very complex. The flavors are pretty obvious: chocolate, malt, hazelnut and caramel. For this reason, I cannot descibe this whisky as overly sophisticated. The flavor profile is not as simple as the Bushmills White Label, but not too great a departure either.
In conclusion, this is a great blended whisky that every whisky/scotch drinker should try. It's easy going, not offensive and great for social occasions. I would give this as a gift to the casual whisky drinker. If I was buying a gift for the serious whisky fan, I would not choose Bushmills Black Bush because the flavors roll out in a very simplistic fashion.
