by tashmcgill | Apr 18, 2016 | Tasting Notes
There aren’t many whiskies that send me scurrying into research mode, but this Dailuaine did. Was is the pineapple nose that teased me with Piña Colada notes or just the sumptuous flavour profile that was so different? I’m not sure, but I can tell you this much – I went back for a second dram in the same sitting, which is nearly unheard of.
Dailuaine Distillery is in the Spey valley in, yes, Speyside. One of dozens of distilleries that have produced malts for years but that remain relatively under the radar of the average whisky drinker. I confess, I’d never heard of Dailuaine prior to tasting this morsel. But, her history is actually peppered with lots of names we do know – Aberlour, Talisker and now, principally, Diageo. Dailuaine provides some core backbone services to the whole Diageo line, including producing the bulk of it’s single malt for Johnnie Walker blends. But enough of that for now, let’s focus on Cask #10742. One of 773 bottles from a big ol’ Sherry Butt, this whisky is one of the most interesting I’ve tasted for a long, long time.
Nose: Like I said – almost like a Piña Colada. There’s sweetness of pineapple, but a smooth, well-balanced roundness that left me thinking of coconut cream and buttered rum. Then this light citrus note, almost lime-y. At this stage, it’s hard to believe I’m nosing a whisky.
Palate: Let’s get more interesting: sliding from creamy pineapple and citrus to big cherry flavours, vanilla icecream and toasty biscuits. Later, I read the formal tasting notes which suggest disgestives are the note, but coconut is still screaming at me so I’m going with Krispie biscuits. There’s an almost coffee-bean quality to the emerging finish.
Finish: The oaty, coffee bean dryness starts to emerge and now it’s tasting like a more traditional sherry finish. Fruit is back, dry and sweet and round almond and nut flavours hang around. It’s a medium dry finish that left me wanting more. So I did.
I’m almost certain I’ll be back to the Jefferson to try this again before the bottle is gone. It’s simply so unique. When you taste something like that and realise that same distillery is producing the lion’s share of it’s malt for one of the world’s biggest blends, it just makes me curious as to what the master blend has going on at Johnnie Walker.
by tashmcgill | Apr 18, 2016 | Tasting Notes
Grandfathers are influential people; they can set you on a trajectory that could make or break a life depending on how you let them. I grew up with only one living grandfather; who could be both great fun and a difficult old bastard. But through a childhood that was confusing and at times lonely; he was consistent. He loved America and I did too. We spent nights at the speedway over summer, ankle deep in pit mud and the smell of brake oil and grease. Long weekends and school holidays were spent rambling through his house and workshop and I remember 5 o’clock sherry, the awful, cheap, puckering kind. In the lounge room of his house with half-completed wallpaper and an old boxset television, he would pour a glass of sherry from the sideboard . And then he’d look sideways at me, at all of twelve years old and say, ‘Want a little?’
I would smile from ear to ear and nod furiously, a wicked treat that somehow meant approval, acceptance into this adult world I so longed to be part of. This was a step up from half a scull of Lion Red on a summer’s day. Fine cut glass, I remember, deep amber rose liquor that was both syrupy and stringent on the tongue. I gazed at it and considered the weight of the vessel in my hand, my all-too-clumsy, We would sit there, side by side, Poppa in his lazy-boy and I, in mine, smile at each other and say, ‘Cheers’. I remember flying home from Christchurch, to attend and speak on behalf of my sisters and I at his funeral. He had passed while I was away from home. I thought long and hard about what to say, which memories to include and which ones to leave out.
Sherry with Poppa at 5 o’clock has always been mine til now, mine alone. But I sat with The GlenDronach in double sherry-casked glory and it came flooding back to me. That woody, dry, rich, fruit and nut undertone that I love so much in every sherry-cask I try. I remembered where I first tasted it, the unmistakeable imprint of sherry and oak on spirit.
The GlenDronach Distillery is one of the oldest in Scotland, established in 1826. Since then, it’s changed hands more than a few times – and some of those hands have been quite notable, ye olde Walter Scott and then Charles Grant (Jr.) of Glenfiddich among them. It’s even been mothballed in recent history but now rests safely in the hands of BenRiach, one of an increasingly smaller number of independently owned distillery companies, after passing through nearly everyone else. I like old things and old things with history are even better. GlenDronach was one of the last to continue using coal fires for heating, they run their own malting floor and the buildings are heritage-listed. Respect for tradition with a few to the future, because everything GlenDronach do is sherry cask aged.
So let’s talk tasting, shall we? The cask strength is everything we love – aged in a combination of sherry casks (Oloroso and Pedro Ximénez), non-chill filtered and released in batches. The Oloroso should produce dry, nutty and almost creamy notes around it’s core fruit characters, while the PX is going to bring sticky sweetness to the party. This is Batch 4, bottled at 54.7% abv. It looks like dark gleaming amber, or molten Kauri gum in the bottle.
Nose: Hello cinnamon, stewed apples, booze-soaked raisins. Ginger spices start to pop and zing around more typical sweet berry fruit, cherries and nuts. The nose is so big you could almost drown in it, or imagine yourself waking up to fresh baked cinnamon fruit toast.
Palate: Biscuity and sweet, with cinnamon and fruit in the middle. Slowly the spices start to come back to play – ginger and pepper get bigger and bigger, which is nice after the big sweet hit. It’s chewable, this whisky and the oak qualities present themselves almost tannic like. I added water to about 47% and felt pretty happy about that. Too much more and the whisky would have felt out of balance, the sweetness of the fruit to overpowering for the spice. This is where the interplay of Oloroso and PX is so lovely – the dryness of those Oloroso spices but the warm, round mouthfeel coming from the nuttiness of it.
Finish: It leads you perfectly into a finish that is soft and fruity, the lingering PX dessert wine quality without being too cloying. The ginger stays with you til the very end, with a hint of coffee bean character. I can imagine finishing a piece of gingerbread and a cup of coffee with the paper.
by tashmcgill | Apr 15, 2016 | Tasting Notes
This week’s accidental whisky themes are Speyside malts, sherry and double-casking, where whisky is aged not once, but twice in different kinds of barrels. The casks contribute enormously to the flavour profile of the whisky; as the wood expands and contracts it releases flavour, colour and aroma into the whisky. So whatever you put in the casks first, lingers and clings onto whatever you put into the cask next.
Relationships are like whisky casks. Whatever you fill that connection with first, will come back and give itself to you again and again, even if you’re filling the barrels with something new. So you should fill them with trustworthy actions, honesty, laughter, kindness and strong, true character. It will flavour everything and anything else that relationship may ever be. The first fill matters. Never forget that little piece of whisky girl wisdom.
This week, old friends have gathered around my door and we’ve drunk sweetly from what the first fill gave us – a long, lingering ability to be present in one another’s lives over years and through the passing of time. Those relationships are honest, deep, rich and full of mirth. They are good and worth celebrating, so I busted out some treats from my own whisky cabinet. And now we’re back to whisky.
The Aberlour 12 is double matured in traditional ex-bourbon barrels and sherry butts (still a cask, but bigger than a bourbon barrel). It’s a much lighter whisky than what I usually drink if I’m into sherry finishes that day. But first drink of the day, after a long Monday and in the company of an old friend. It seemed appropriate.
Oh sherry, how I love your ways. You do such a delightful job of making things round, soft and welcoming while still reminding us your mark on things is indelible.
Nose: Soft and round juicy apples, the old-fashioned kind that almost ooze a buttery goodness to them.
Palate: Sherry! There you are. Hints of cinnamon and ginger spices sitting on top of a mellow toffee. It’s pretty light in the mid-section but that’s ok, because some chocolate just floats around the edges and hangs around.
Finish: Longer than you’d expect for such a medium kind of whisky. The spice sits and lingers long on the tongue, leaving the familiar dry sweetness of sherry. It’s pretty warm and isn’t in a rush. Delightful early evening dram.
I also pulled out my Port Charlotte Valinch Rivesaltes and the Ardbeg Uigeadail.. but those are stories for another time.
Aberlour has been on my mind this week – I sat down with another old friend this week and enjoyed the no-holds-barred 100% sherry casked Aberlour A’bunadh. A’bunadh means ‘of the origin’. And you could be forgiven for thinking this whisky is the blueprint for everything else Aberlour does. It’s everything I love about a ball-buster whisky. You drink this when you mean to give yourself entirely to the experience. And I was committed because I was able to order within minutes of sitting at the bar – which rarely happens. It’s non-chill filtered, matured exclusively in Oloroso sherry casks and bottled at cask strength, so each bottle is usually hand numbered with the ABV and details. I’ve lost count of how many bottles of this whisky I’ve been through. Everything is bigger and bolder than the 12, so the nose, palate and finish are all dialled up.
Nose: The spice, fruit and toffee notes are all bigger and more defined. It’s distinctly orange, ginger, clove and buttery toffee. I get bigger hints of the wood itself, but I think my palate just knows what’s coming and gets ahead of itself.
Palate: It’s full-bodied and creamy as it works around the mouth. That’s coming from the praline you get on the nose. The orange gets bigger. Cherries and dried fruit soaking in sherry for a Christmas cake bounce around the tongue for a long while. The oak itself starts to make itself known. The woodiness isn’t at all unpleasant, it just adds some depth to the dark chocolate.
Finish: Imagine walking through spice market in the setting sun. The bitterness of chocolate on the tongue and hints of oak hanging around.
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by tashmcgill | Apr 13, 2016 | Tasting Notes
If all whiskies have stories, which I believe to be true – then some whiskies have layers of story and memory attached. It either comes with a story or you feel compelled to make one up. For me, the Tomatin 15 Tempranillo is one of those whiskies full of story.
It starts with a long, slow dinner in the middle of winter when I was first introduced to Tempranillo wine. The conversation was sweet and easy in the manner of old friends gathered around a table. The wine was a buoyant but not overwhelming companion – fruity bursts of cherry and plum and earthy undertones of leather, tobacco and hints of clove.
Then, around 2013 I went to a Tomatin tasting and was introduced to this HIghland malt aged in Tempranillo. What the wood gives of itself to the whisky can never be underestimated – and in this instance, those Tempranillo casks have gladly given over their dry fruity flavours and the spice of clove. Whisky and wine, what’s not to love?
And it’s not easy to find, although not rare by some standards. They released 3150 bottles. I bought one in 2013 and this week I enjoyed some of what’s left of the stock at my local.
I bought the bottle for myself to celebrate a small personal victory.. A victory long since forgotten, but I remember the whisky and drinking it around the fire.
Malts like these feel so experimental, because you really don’t know what the wood or the time will give you – but in this instance… here’s my fond recollection of a little bit of magic produced in the bottle.
Nose: Cherry and plums big and present upfront before the sugar comes through .. candy, beeswax and white chocolate – that combination of sugar and vanilla. If you stretch, you’ll get some leather and oak floating around in the back.
Palate: What was promised on the nose delivers in the glass – those big fruit flavours round out into softer pears and apples. I’m reminded of apple pie because it’s so sweet still, candy, candy candy… until it starts to lift off the tongue with the tannins and dry out. The clove and white pepper starts to dance and draw out the finish.
Finish: The spice takes the long road out of town, leaving behind a soft, creamy and almost chewable ending.
This whisky is one you want to try if you love homemade apple crumble or just enjoy going on a journey. You’ll sit on it a while and be able to push it (at 52% abv, you’ll want to cut it with a few drops of water to bring it out) pretty far to get everything it’s got to show you.
Here’s hoping more of these interesting cask finishes make their way into our hands!
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by tashmcgill | Apr 7, 2016 | Tasting Notes
There are two real benefits to drinking out, instead of drinking in – no matter how great your home selection is.
The first, is and will always be, the company you keep when you go out. Fellow lovers of whisky and good people congregate in good places. Second, you get to taste a much broader range of drams, that are frequently changing.
So this week at The Jefferson, this bottle of Glenturret was new to the shelf.
If you’ve never heard of Glenturret, don’t worry. They are one of a select few distilleries that claim to be one of the first in Scotland. Glenturret are mostly famous now for being home to the Famous Grouse experience. I drove past the distillery last month but didn’t stop. They are found in the lower reaches of the Highlands.
Back to the tasting: this bottle is from a single sherry butt cask and one of only 283 filled. So .. you’re not going to find this on any other shelves easily (this is why we go out).
Aged 17 years, it’s really taken everything the sherry cask has to give.
The nose is massive, even in first open. Toffee, rich dried fruit and spice – just like a rich Christmas pudding. That’s the sherry doing it’s work.
First taste: at 46% it’s not the alcohol that hits you first but the first blast of that dry spice, because I’ve just had my nose in the glass. It gets right into the palate and softens quickly, into a more traditional Highland malt. Sweet, smooth, soft, easy-going and relatively light. Juicy raisins reminding you this was a sherry cask. I found this to be consistent through drinking, it didn’t open up too much more.
The finish: the spice and sweetness of the raisins lingers but not too long.
It has given me a taste for the Glenturret.
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by tashmcgill | Apr 3, 2016 | Tasting Notes
I was recently in Scotland and visited Kintyre, home to Campbeltown. Which is, in turn, home to Springbank. Few distilleries remain in Campbeltown, because there are comparatively few Lowland malt distilleries in production. New distilleries are being built, but mainly in the Highlands, Isles or Speyside/Fife. More on that later.
Perhaps it is the vast distance and isolation of Springbank, in fact Campbeltown itself, that gives such a unique character to their malts. They are confrontational at first introduction, on the nose they promise sweetness through layers of leather and bitters.
So – this bottle, a cask end from an independent bottling (Cadenhead’s) is actually relatively typical of a 15 year old Springbank. Sherry casked during maturation and I’d say fairly heavily, this is a banger of a wee dram at only 46%.
Purchased at Cadenhead’s on the Royal Mile in Edinburgh.
Opened with some whisky friends in downtown Auckland – April 2nd, 2016.
The official tasting notes on a typical Springbank 15.
Nose: Sherry, dark chocolate, christmas cake, almonds, toffee and oak.
Palate: Creamy, raisins, dark chocolate, figs, marzipan, brazil nuts and vanilla.
Finish: Oak and sherry notes sustain, mingling with hints of leather. Sweet & spicy.
Now, this isn’t exactly the same, but obviously similar process and maturation, this cask just didn’t make the bottling. Here’s what I got from it:
Nose: dark toffee, bitter chocolate (think 70%), giving way to big dry spice of the sherry. You can smell the richness of the sherry and promises a lot on the tongue. Good to note here that it opened up dramatically after breathing for 5mins, which is where the almonds and oakiness have a space to be seen.
Palate: sherry first, those juicy raisins and the rich spice promised on the nose. There is little butteriness here – as you might expect with the Christmas cake flavours going on. But it’s very round and full, well-balanced.
Finish: medium long in the mouth, the spice gets bigger at the end. The hints of oak and earthiness promised on the nose deliver now, leaving that classic sweet/dry counter play of sherry.
