Counting Down The Days... Glendronach 1989

If you watch a great film you immediately have high hopes for the sequel. I remember waiting for each Lord of the Rings release, each X-Men release and each Star Wars release; frothing at the mouth like a bunny in a laboratory for each one of them; and like most kids my age I looked forward to each Harry Potter book like the Second Coming. There is nothing like the excitement of anticipation. The consequence of this is obviously the disappointment of the poor sequel. The Matrix Reloaded's of this world. The ones where your heart sinks, your smile droops and your hand deftly pens a death threat to the director... or not.

What sequels do is immerse you in a saga, the wait and knee-shaking, night-before-Christmas, excitement that comes with the nail-biting waiting are as much a part of the experience as the sequel itself. Christmas would be beyond awful if there wasn't the tinsel-be-laden, mince pie be-decked lead-up that works us all into a wide-eyed consumerist-cum-consumptionist frenzy; and so it is with whisky. Like everyone else I pander to each Ardbeg release and each Diageo special release like a diligent puppy to an abusive master, but this is what makes whisky fun. Then last year I was introduced to Glendronach, indeed for the very first time, via the almighty 1989 release and from whence my love of the 'Dronach was born. Needless to say I looked forward to this year's release...

I was a massive fan of last year's Glendronach 1989, in fact it was the whisky that got me into Glendronach. So when I realised I would be tasting this year's release my excited anticipation went into overdrive. I had really enjoyed all the other releases this year but the 1989 had more significance. Having tried it I was not to be disappointed, in fact I would argue it was the most interesting and different of all the releases I have tried (the 1992 has sadly eluded me).

Glendronach 1989
54.1% - 21 Years Old - PX Cask - Cask 2917 - Bottle 40/618
Nose: Dense dark chocolate but with a contrasting floral side on a bed of roasted coffee beans, orange fondant and sultanas.
Palate: Coffee galore with that orange fondant returning and a suggestion of brown sugar. Holds the alcohol well.
Finish: Brazil nut is the catechism here, clean and long.
Overall: Great balance, an amalgamation of intriguing flavours and that 'Dronach moreish-ness that is completely irresistible. A welcome sequel for my money.

Can you figure it out? ...As We Get It 8 Year Old

I've always liked the idea of detective work, not in a News of the World tap-your-phone-kinda-way, but in a Sherlock Holmesian deductive style. I quite like how logic and attention to detail can unearth a story hidden behind finger prints, mysterious notes and a mad dog on a moor. There is an inherent romance in the power of mind and reason over seemingly disparate evidence that when pieced together solves a heinous mystery. In the same way I've always enjoyed reading studies relating to the evolution of man. How with a few bones and a couple of rocks paleontogolists and anthropologists can discern where we came from, when we came from and how we came from being apes picking each others scalps to being literate beasts capable of making fine oak-aged spirits that in large quantities send us back so many thousands of years to being chimps in the mud again.

There has been a fun development in Scottish whisky in recent years. This is the bottling of single malt whiskies under brand rather than distillery names, Smokehead jumps to mind here. The idea is that the distillery remains a mystery to the consumer, this of course invites speculation as to which distillery produced which mystery bottling. Recently I tried one of Ian Macleod's 8 year old Islay As We Get It bottlings, and had a shot at identifying the distillery behind the mystery. My guess was Ardbeg, although with only a small glass to taste from I could easily be wrong. It wasn't as maritime as Laphroaig, Bowmore or Caol Ila, and too old to be Kilchoman. Bunnahabhain and Bruichladdich were definitely not the distilleries and Lagavulin just seemed unlikely. So with its densely peaty character and lack of maritime seaweed, my guess is Ardbeg, but I am happy to be corrected!

As We Get It
58.4% ABV - 8 Years Old - Bottled by Ian Macleod
Nose: Cloves crash into the sinuses first followed by the gentle caress of toffee which in turn is followed by a sweet peatness that warns of the storm to come.
Palate: Spicy with strong peat, there is a touch of medicinal orange that is needed to cure a hot palate.
Finish: Coal smoke at first, if a tad bitter, with a long nutty conclusion.
Overall: I quite enjoyed this dram, it had some flavours that intrigued, others that battered and ones that soothed. Great stuff indeed!

Of Whirlpools and Vikings - Ardbeg Corryvreckan

The whirlpool at Corryvreckan

Well once again it seems the economy is turning its back on us. Having gorged itself on sub-prime mortgages it fancies a more continental treat and is pulling its emaciated frame towards the Eurozone like a thirsty man towards a mirage in the desert. It smacks its lips, revealing teeth as jagged as the peaks and troughs in a chart in the FT. It bears more claws than all the backbenchers in parliament and its sight is as blurred as any fiscal strategy seen this quarter. What treat will this monster fancy? A Bassatt's Double Dip or a QE Gobstopper? Who knows? But I can tell you that you could be worse off, you could be a viking called Breacan.

Techno Viking

Breacan was the kind of chap that would do stupid, life endangering things to impress the fairer, and let's face it - compared to Breacan, more intelligent sex. Breacan being a hopeless romantic fell in love with the beautiful daughter of the Lord of the Isles but he knew like any boy in a teen flick that she could never love him. So he decided to show off his bravery and sailing prowess in one foul stroke. So one day he sailed out to the mighty, churning whirlpool ominously named the Corryvreckan. He pledged to stay three whole days within its surf. So in he went and in he tossed the first of three anchors to hold him in place. An entire day passed until the rope could no longer take the strain and snapped. With not a moment to lose Breacan threw in the second anchor and another day passed before it too gave in and the third and final anchor was deployed. Then as this foolhardy viking approached his deadline with the wind ruffling his mane of hair, the final anchor broke free and Breacan was swept down into the eye of the whirlpool never to be seen again.

So although the economy may be tumbling down to a watery demise like Breacan at least you're not the one swallowing water like there's no tomorrow. There is however a whisky from the guys at Ardbeg, aptly named the Corryvreckan, that could make financially hard times more bearable. This whisky is a tidal force of smoke and flavour surfing down the gullet on some cask staves lashed together. Definitely a dram for stormy times.

Ardbeg Corryvreckan
57.1% - No Age Statement
Nose: Peat and pepper battle this one out using sugar and vanilla as shields.
Palate: Masses of smoke rising from a fiery bed of red peppers and chilis with peaty water lapping the edges.
Finish: A charcoal pit in a peat bog. One to make you cough.
Overall: Very peaty, a stormy malt that would appeal to peat-lovers out there. I'd argue the Uigeadail or the Supernova have more structure. However this dram has more teeth. Here's to Breacan, slainte!

Lake Placid... The Ardbeg Alligator

"Row row row your boat gently down the stream, if you see an Islay-gator don't forget to scream. Arghh!"

This is how I remember the nursery rhyme going... I think. Today's review has no unnecessary story precluding the stuff about the whisky. The Alligator is a story in itself. The basic background information you need to know is that Ardbeg charred ex-Bourbon casks to the maximum, leaving an alligator skin-like effect on the inside of the barrels and the result is a massive, hold that thought... MASSIVE whisky. To put that into context; aside from my good self I have seen two other people sample the Alligator, all three of us took a sip and went "Oh!?" Followed swiftly by, "Arghh!" as the finish took hold. The Alligator is aptly named: The nose is massive and meaty although softer than I expected leading me into a false sense of security, the palate took me by surprise, then the finish pulled me under the surface to a dark demise.

For me the Alligator has a sentimental value. It is the first whisky I have waited anxiously for and it was reading blogs about it months ago that inspired me to begin the one you are reading currently. Needless to say I was excited to finally get hold of this snappy (pun intended) whisky. Besides my sentimentality I was also excited to battle this Alligator because if there is one thing I like about whisky it is experimentation, so to try a whisky from an experiment that aggressively chars casks was always going to be a winner for me. But enough of this tittle-tattle; the whisky... [cue Jaws theme tune]

Ardbeg Alligator
51.2% - No Age Statement
Nose: A marshmallow smokiness I associate with Ardbeg quickly muscled out of the way by pounds of smoked bacon. As the dram opens up vanilla, bubble gum and soft fruits emerge with a smell I associate with sandy beaches. Finally a charcoal element crowds in reminding us of this reptile's Islay heritage.
Palate: Very rich with a snap of lollipop fruitiness, creamy with with white chocolate mixed in. Throughout all of this peat lurks in the background, stalking its prey...
Finish: Arghh! This is where the Alligator keeps its teeth, massive chimneys of smoke, an earthy quality that crashes in waves and remains for a very very long time. I woke up 6 hours later still tasting peat smoke.
Overall: A whisky to dwarf all whiskies. I don't remember the Supernova being this punchy, although like the Supernova the Alligator has perfect balance and an incredibly long finish. A big meaty barbecue of a dram. Now to watch some Crocodile Dundee!

Battle of the Sexes: Ardbeg Uigeadail

Me contemplating Uigedail

There's only one way to end a night spent drinking great quantities in great company, and that is to continue drinking great quantities in great company and then finish with an impromptu whisky tasting competition. We had everything we needed: Two Glencairn glasses, a bottle of whisky and three people, two to taste, one to adjudicate. The tasters would be myself and my girlfriend, Ellen (apparently competition is our thing). The judge would be my friend Rob, who we deemed impartial enough fulfil this crucial role. I should say he was impartial in that his urge to embarrass me should equal out any loyalty to me over Ellen... Oh and he has a fantastic knowledge of whisky so was in a perfect position to judge our notes. The whisky would be the behemoth that is the Ardbeg Uigeadail. A caskstrength Ardbeg named after the loch that feeds this reputable Islay distillery. It consistently gets rave reviews and seemed like a great whisky to finish the night with.

Ellen posing

We took our places, whisky poured, pencils sharpened, and not without some trepidation. The tasting took place in silence, a lot was at stake here. Firstly I don't particularly enjoy losing and secondly I take some pride in teaching Ellen to taste whisky, so was looking for a close win. Eventually our notes were complete and in turn we read them out to Rob who sat magnanimously with a tumbler of Uigeadail waiting to judge. Here are our notes:

Ellen:
Nose: A salted caramel, heavy smoke with hints of the leathery, metallic tang you get with a new car.
Palate: Smooth, with the flavour of Nori (the seaweed that wraps sushi) intertwined with the smoke.
Finish: The smoke increased on the finish, with a definite sweetness present and undertones of a light spice, perhaps cumin and coriander.

And here are mine:

Ardbeg Uigeadail
54.2% - No Age Statement
Nose: Oak smoke galore with a strong combination of grapefruit and butterfudge. Past this heavyweight combo there is heather, stewed cherries and marshmallow with a charcoal character closing the nose.
Palate: Chlorine jumps to the fore followed by grapes and raisins. There is an underlying toffee sweetness and an essence of an alcoholic trifle.
Finish: A burst of creamy toffee chased by smokey embers. With that heather from the nose transforming into damp peaty undergrowth.
Overall: A massively smokey, take no prisoners whisky. As delicate and complex as it is immense. Deserving of the plaudits it has gathered. A clear winner of a dram.

Our judge

Rob spent much time considering our notes. He loved Ellen's new car metaphor and, like me, was shocked I missed out on the spiciness Ellen got on the finish. After even more umm-ing and ahh-ing he made his decision and awarded me the prize of champion for my identification of the citrus notes. For me this was more of a joint victory. I am pleased with my win, but I am happier that Ellen could now taste a whisky and make accurate notes. It's not every lad who can convince his girlfriend to enjoy whisky also... Although this does mean next time I will be much more competitive. I can't be beaten a girl now can I?

Less is More? Ardbeg Blasda

I’ve been known to have a certain scepticism of the phrase ‘less is more’. It seems somewhat contradictory, an oxymoron of epic proportions. How can less of something good be better than a larger serving? I know it’s somewhat greedy and selfishly gluttonous of me to be drawn towards bigger rather than smaller portions. Perhaps, I should blame the consumerist nature of the Western world for my egotistical cravings for the extra and the additional. Maybe, I should adopt the more chaste life of a hermit, immersing myself in meditation and a strict diet of grubs and carrot juice? Of course, this being a whisky blog, it took a whisky to show me the way.

This whisky was the Ardbeg Blasda. Having been brought up drinking big smoky whiskies from a moderately young age courtesy of my dad. I’ve always had trouble with most Speyside and Lowland whiskies. So when I read that the Blasda was a less peated Ardbeg (only 8ppm) I was nervous. Like most whisky fanatics I have enormous respect for all of Ardbeg’s output, but the idea of a lighter dusting of peat made me a little nervous, and if I’m honest, a little ill. However, after getting my hands on a bottle I was taught a very important lesson. Less can be more. No longer would I be piling my plate to the ceiling at buffets, no longer would I be cranking my stereo up to eleven and no longer would I judge the quality of a whisky on it’s ppm value alone. For I had been shown the way.

Ardbeg Blasda
40% - No Age Statement
Nose: Apple arrives first with a robust organic smell of bark and floral heather to match. Then comes the cherry lending another fruity dimension to an already full aroma. Finally chocolate éclairs pull up to have a sweet affair with the Blasda’s, finely balanced, lightly peated quality.
Palate: Willow smoke is instantly present with subtle fruits and vanilla. A herbal presence works with the fruit to create a flavour reminiscent of Refresher sweets.
Finish: Vanilla concludes this dram, as it slips calmly down, and slowly falls asleep.
Overall: A real lesson in the virtues of lightly peating a whisky. The Blasda is beautifully pale in colour but retains so much flavour. Ardbeg, as ever, have hit the spot.