Category: Scotch
Glen Elgin 10-Year SMWS Cask 85.20
This bottle highlights my favorite thing about being a member of the Scotch Malt Whisky Society. Having access to single-cask, cask-strength bottlings of rare and unusual whiskies, or rare and unusual expressions of not-so-rare whiskies, is a real treat. The fact that all of the bottles are so uniformly good, and some simply outstanding, is just the icing on the cake.
The bottle in question tonight is a 10-year old Glen Elgin aged in a refill sherry butt. This is a distillery whose inauspicious start and the many bumps along the road that it has experienced during its history perfectly illustrate the very ups and downs of the Scotch whisky industry as a whole. That today it appears in the guise of a special bottling from one of the most reputed Scotch whisky bottlers is a testament to both its tenacity and the wrinkles that good fortune can bring.
This Speyside distillery was founded in 1898 at the height of the late 19th-century whisky boom. It was designed by noted distillery architect Charles Chree Doig, famed for the pagoda-style roofs he built atop several distilleries at this time, including Aberlour, Dufftown, Balblair, and of course Glen Elgin. After two years of work, the distillery began operating in early May 1900, only to close 6 months later when the whisky bubble burst and worldwide demand plummeted.
In 1930 the distillery was purchased by the major conglomerate Scottish Malt Distillers, and became a principal component of the White Horse Blend. As a result, the distillery experienced sustained success for several decades (barring a brief closure during World War II). It was thoroughly rebuilt in 1964 when the number of stills was increased from two to six, and has been in continuous operation ever since.
Until recently it’s rarely been found in single-malt bottlings. Instead, the vast majority of the whisky goes into various blends, most notably White Horse. Overall production amounts to 1.8 million liters a year, which is certainly a respectable figure. It’s owned by United Distillers who market the Classic Malts series that includes distilleries such as Oban and Talisker. Word is that they’ve chosen Glen Elgin as one of the next whiskies to begin including in this series. Their website does indeed include Glen Elgin, but I don’t recall having seen it in shops as of yet.
As most distilleries do who produce whisky largely for blending purposes, Glen Elgin uses both bourbon and sherry casks for aging their whiskies. Their four dunnage style warehouses are all onsite.
Tasting Notes
This is bottle number 85.20 from the Society, and has been named “Woweee!” by the tasting committee. It’s been bottled at 60.2% and is 1 of 650 bottles from a refill sherry butt that was filled in September 1999.
In the glass the whisky is the color of polished gold, with alluring amber highlights. The nose has inviting notes of fresh forest air, followed by light citrus notes that lead to vanilla custard, grade A maple syrup, and lastly some dry, oaky notes. The dram takes time to open up in the glass and reveal all of its nuances, but it’s worth the wait. Don’t rush this one! The palate is velvety, warm, and viscous. The flavors are rich and warming, and include caramel custard, candied orange peels, warm brown sugar cookies, and an undercurrent of citrus and maltiness. The finish is medium length, tantalizingly lingering, fruity, and sweet.
Another impressive bottling from the Society. The whiskies I’ve loved most from them have been their single sherry casks, most notably a 24-year old first-fill Inchgower named “A Farmer’s Friend”. What a whisky it was! Deep, deep sherried whisky flavors – caramelized brown sugars, glazed spiral ham, red raspberries and rum-soaked strawberries. Wow, I still remember it vividly.
One note on the Society’s new bottles – I’m not sure I’m sold. The shape is not really to my liking, a bit too eccentric to me. Reminds me a lot of the Bowmore bottles that also turn me off a bit. But, what I do like is the design of the labels and the info they’ve included. Now is included the type of cask, the name and number of the whisky, the Committee’s tasting notes, the bottle count, and on the back, a pithy little statement that reads,
We, the Tasting Panel, verify that the Scotch Malt Whisky inside this bottle has been passed under some of the most scrupulous noses in the world and approved for release as a Society bottling. Only single cask whiskies that promise to intrigue, entertain, and delight our members are selected, true to our motto: ‘To Leave No Nose Upturned’
I’ve always loved the tasting notes the Society includes in their newsletters and bottling lists, and this statement sums up quite aptly the Society’s tongue-in-cheek style.
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Gordon & MacPhail Longmorn 30 Year
This Gordon & MacPhail Longmorn was one of the whiskies that we featured at last weekend’s tasting at Amherst Coffee. The event came off really well, full of great whiskies and great people. I definitely think fun was had by all. In the end, each whisky showed very, very well – even the “palate warmer” that we threw in to start things off. But then, a Murray McDavid 11-year Isle of Arran is no slouch!
I was very excited to include an old Longmorn in the tasting. All of the older specimens of Longmorn that I’ve been lucky enough to try have been outstanding. It’s undoubtedly a whisky that ages very gracefully, which is no surprise given its pedigree as a top-class malt.* And so it was with no lack of excitement that we placed this whisky next-to-last in the tasting, in order to give it some room to shine. (Our last whisky was a cask-strength, 25-year Strathisla. But more on that later…)
This whisky was distilled in 1979, and bottled in 2009. It was bottled at 40%, which I can’t help but feel is really a shame. It’s the one downside to Gordon & MacPhail’s otherwise excellent lineup of single malts, most of which are wonderful bargains given their great quality. But their tendency to bottle at such low percentages, 40-43%, is a disappointment. They also chill filter many of their whiskies, this one included. You can’t help but wonder how the whisky would have tasted otherwise, how much flavor and character was lost.
But, that being said. What we’ve got here is a very fine whisky nonetheless.
Tasting Notes
The whisky is the color of light gold. The nose has lemon drops and pears alongside sweet, grainy, floral notes. The palate is soft and delicate, with a buttery, mouth-coating roundness. Lightly sweet, oaky flavors of resin, honey, and vanilla are balanced alongside warm, malty notes of beeswax and brioche. Subtle citrus notes float around in this mix of flavors. The finish is dry and only lightly sweet, with prominent flavors of beeswax and bread. The finish is quite long and smoothyl transitions from initially subtly sweet to very malty and mellow.
All in all, this is a very balanced whisky, with it’s age showing in the combination of oaky dryness, balanced sweet and malty flavors, and buttery, mouth-coating texture. Actually, the thing I liked best was how dry it was. The flavors of brioche, bread dough, and beeswax were wonderful, and those were the ones that really lingered on your palate.
I would love to see this whisky bottled at a few points higher, and not chill-filtered, but in the meantime have to say that this is another good bargain from Gordon & MacPhail.
*In his Miscellany of Whisky, Charles MacLean cites a small group of top-class malts, whiskies that were highly regarded by blenders for their ability to add that last little bit of something to their blends. The full list included: Aultmore, Benrinnes, Cragganmore, Glen Elgin, Glen Grant, Glenlivet, Glenlossie, Glenrothes, Linkwood, Longmorn, Macallan, and Mortlach.
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Laphroaig 10-Year Cask Strength
For me, Laphroaig will always represent the most elemental aspects of whisky that first blew my mind several years back when I was just getting to know scotch. It was the first crazily smoky, peaty whisky that I drank, and the first cask strength too. On both accounts, my palate was altered for good, and to this day I’m still not sure if it was for the better!
It’s with good reason that each bottle of Laphroaig carries the seal of the Prince of Wales himself, as this is no ordinary whisky:
By appointment to HRH [His Royal Highness] the Prince of Wales, distiller and supplier of single malt Scotch whisky, D. Johnston & Co., (Laphroaig) Isle of Islay.
I still remember giving my mother a taste of Laphroaig 10, and hearing her horrified remark that it tasted like someone had filled her mouth with charcoal. Definitely not everyone’s cup of tea, or whisky for that matter. Laphroaig is one that you have to adapt to and be ready for, not the other way around. In contrast to many whiskies, Laphroaig is an uncompromising malt. It’s really love it or leave it.
The 10-year cask strength embodies the Laphroaig character more so than any of their other bottlings. Bottled at 55.7%, it captures Laphroaig at the height of its youthful exuberance. It’s tempestuous and fiery, and threatens to knock you around a bit if you’re not ready for it. It’s the deepest night compared to its more mild-mannered 10-year old non-cask-strength sibling.
The whisky pours reddish gold with tight beads. Leaping out of the glass is that characteristic Laphroaig smoke, reminiscent of a smoldering woodfire. The briny smoke dominates the nose, with undercurrents of burnt caramel and seaweed thrown in for good measure. The palate leads off with mouth coating sweetness, followed by waves of peat smoke and char. The flavors then swing back round to caramel, bits of toffee, and sweet bready flavors. The whisky is medium bodied, not as thickly textured as some cask strengths are, with bracing, hot alcohol. To really experience it to the full, it definitely asks to be toned down. In fact, adding water really brings out the smokiness in the palate. The finish has a lingering bit of smoke, burnt sugar, and custard, warming and sweet.
Overall impression: very tasty, and great for sipping while sitting in front of a fire. Hot from the alcohol, but much more pleasant after toned down with water. Definitely for the lover of smoky whiskies, who can stand up to the brutish challenge brought on by the cask-strength bottling.
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Ardbeg 10-Year
It’s hard to believe that just over a decade ago Ardbeg nearly closed for good. The whisky is so remarkable and so unique, and so emblematic of the image of an Islay whisky, it’s unbelievable that it came so close to disappearing for good in 1997. Yet, I suppose this is just another way in which it is emblematic of Islay whiskies – the island’s distilleries have historically struggled to keep their doors open, with several of the remaining distilleries suffering near-permanent closures, and one giant – Port Ellen – having permanently closed in 1983.
There are interesting parallels in telling the stories of two of Islay’s recent success stories, Ardbeg and Bruichladdich:
- Both weathered very serious downturns and closings in the 1990’s before being bought by new owners around the turn of the century. In the case of Bruichladdich they were purchased in 2001 by a group of partners spearheaded by Mark Reynier of Murray McDavid, and Ardbeg was purchased in 1997 by Glenmorangie.
- Bruichladdich had been closed for 5 years from 1995-2000. Ardbeg only went silent for one year, 1996, but from 1990-1996 had operated at only 33% of its capacity.
- After being purchased by their new owners, both distilleries required significant refurbishing before returning to full production (Glenmorangie invested £3.5 million rebuilding Ardbeg).
Yet, while their history is similar in these regards, their whisky couldn’t be more different. In contrast to Bruichladdich’s delicate, lightly-styled spirit, Ardbeg’s is an explosively smoky dram. Ardbeg is one of the big three, the peaty beasts that Islay is so famous for, along with Lagavulin and Laphroaig (Bowmore produces a pretty smoky whisky as well, but I don’t think they’re in the same league). But despite sharing a smoky profile, their whiskies are totally distinct from one another. Much of this is explained by the methods they use for producing their whisky. Here are some basic facts comparing the three:
1. PPM of the malt – how smoky the malt is before they use it to produce whisky:
- Ardbeg: 54ppm
- Laphroaig: 40-43ppm
- Lagavulin: 35-40ppm
2. PPM of the new make spirit – how much smoke from the malt is carried through into the final whisky:
- Laphroaig: 25ppm
- Ardbeg: 24-26ppm
- Lagavulin: 16-18ppm
3. Percent their spirit stills are filled to – the more full the stills are filled, the more pungent and full-bodied the final whisky will be:
- Lagavulin: 95%
- Ardbeg: 81%
- Laphroaig: unknown
There are other differences as well, in their fermentation schedules, when they make their cuts, et., but the end result, in Ardbeg’s case, is a profoundly smoky whisky that retains an almost delicate, subtleness. The degree they fill their stills to – 81% – plays a big role in this. While that’s still a high percentage, it’s low enough for the more pungent aromatics and flavors to be stripped out of the whisky, leaving the spirit in the glass more able to express the balanced combination of smoke and sweetness that is Ardbeg’s calling card.
Today, the Ardbeg distillery works 6 days a week, 24 hours a day, to produce right around a million liters of whisky a year, and nearly all of this goes into singe malt bottlings. 98% of their whisky is aged in Jack Daniels Tennessee Whiskey barrels, with the other 2% being sherry casks. All of the barrels they use are first or second fill. Curiously, while 100% of Ardbeg’s whisky is aged on Islay in their own warehouses, none of it is bottled on Islay at all, but is shipped to the mainland and bottled in West Lothian, in central Scotland.
One last note of interest about Ardbeg: they’re owned by Glenmorangie who purchased them in 1997 (Glenmorangie themselves were purchased by Louis Vuitton Moet Hennessy (LVMH) in 2005). Glenmorangie also owns the Scotch Malt Whisky Society, that venerable Scottish institution who buy single casks of whisky from distilleries and bottle them at cask strength for their members. The takeover took place in 2004 when Glenmorangie paid £2.2 million to gain a controlling interesting of the independent bottler whose products are available only to its members.
The Society’s board argued the merits of the decision by saying that the change in ownership would give them greater access to a wider range of whiskies, so that they could offer more and better whiskies to their members. Glenmorangie in turn looked at the purchase as allowing them to play a greater role in whisky education, enabling them to reach out to the Society’s 24,000 members worldwide.
I remember a great degree of initial skepticism when I heard about the deal, and couldn’t help but think that the ownership of an “independent” bottler by a major drinks conglomeration that also owned 3 distilleries (Glenmorangie, Ardbeg, and Glen Moray) couldn’t bode well for the future. But I’ve been a member of the Society for a few years now, and must say – especially as a member of the U.S. chapter – that I’ve seen the number of bottlings and number of distilleries represented consistently grow, and the quality of the membership continue to improve as well. So, while I’m sure the relationship between Glenmorangie and the Society is in some ways a curious one, I don’t see any outwardly ill effects from it.
But, on to the whisky! I haven’t had the Ardbeg 10-year in a long while, and was a little nervous given my recent disappointments with other smoky whiskies. My memory was of a singularly smoky dram, with just a hint of sugary sweetness to offset the smoke. This particular bottling was from 2007, and so is likely from the previous owners (the new owners began distilling again on June 25th of 1997, but only until October of that year before further repairs had to be made, and distilling did not resume until the following spring). It is bottled at 46% and is not chill-filtered.
The whisky is greeny gold in the glass. The nose is raw and smoky, with heather and simple syrup offsetting the smoke. All told, the nose is really equal parts smoky and sweet, and with time in the glass the sweetness grows, gaining depth. The palate opens up with charcoal and peat smoke, then unfolds with flavors of whipped cream and lemony sweetness. It’s lightly textured and soft, very drinkable. The finish is intriguing, with distant whiffs of smoke that just linger, like the remnants of last night’s fire in the hearth.
I wasn’t expecting Ardbeg 10 to be as complex as a I found it. My memory of it was as a much more one-dimensional whisky, smoky with the slightest bit of sweetness to offset it. Instead, I found a dram that had a layered, complex nose, and a palate that really opened up and developed with some time in the glass. The finish was a bit wanting, not as interesting as the nose or palate, but overall a very satisfying dram.
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Laphroaig 15 Year
My introduction to scotch was a Caol Ila 12 year old, to this day one of my favorite whiskies for its singular smokiness. I remember being stunned by the brine and smoke, and having difficulty figuring out exactly what it was that I was drinking. Before long I’d worked my way across the spectrum of Islay whiskies, reveling in the smoky beauty of Laphroaig, Lagavulin, Caol Ila, Ardbeg, and Bowmore.
I stayed “on the island” for quite a long time. I was so enamored with smoky whiskies that it was ages before I really began to appreciate other types of scotch. Yes, my scotch horizons were limited, but you’ve got to admit that some pretty incredible whiskies are distilled on that island.
As time passed I began to appreciate the subtle differences in the smoky whiskies produced on Islay. On the one hand you have the briny smokiness of a Caol Ila, on the other the naked, straight-out-of-the-fire smokiness of an Ardbeg. There’s the ribald smokiness of a Lagavulin, and the restrained, fiery beach-wood smoke of a Bowmore. And then there’s Laphroaig, whose smoke is wholly singular, a remarkable expression of smoldering, centuries old peat. You may at times be able to confuse the smokiness of a Lagavulin with a Bowmore, but you could never confuse the smokiness of a Laphroaig with any other whisky.
Why is that? I suppose there are any number of reasons that you could point to – the peat they use, the fact that Laphroaig is one of the few distilleries still producing some of their own malt, the way they distill their whisky. But in the end, no one really knows for sure. What it comes right down to is being willing to simply accept that there is something unique taking place when Laphroaig whisky is created that imparts this most astonishing smokiness.
A friend of mine once described Laphroaig whisky as akin to stuffing a wad of peat in your mouth. I’d have to concur with this, there is something entirely unique that takes place when you plunge into a dram of Laphroaig. The smoke slowly rises out of the glass, filling first your nostrils, then the room your in. It gets into your clothes, and I swear it leaves an imprint on your senses, leaving you with a lingering memory after you reach the bottom of the glass.
But what’s best about Laphroaig is that it isn’t all about the smoke. Yes, the smokiness is astonishing and unique, but it is coupled with layers of other flavors that can – depending on the age of the whisky you’re drinking – actually cause the smoke to play a secondary role. I’ve been lucky enough to try the Laphroaig 30-year on a handful of occasions and can say, without hesitation, that this is one of the most amazing whiskies I’ve ever drunk. The smoke is more subdued, an ethereal element layered amidst a plethora of other flavors. In many ways, this to me was the ultimate expression of Laphroaig, demonstrating just how dynamic a role the smoke can play.
So in the end, I do think Laphroaig is defined by its smoke, much as I think other of the Islay whiskies are uniquely defined by their unique smokiness (Ardbeg and Lagavulin most prominently so). But Laphroaig is much more than just its smoke, there’s something else, something intangible that it expresses.
Yikes! This post is turning into some sort of homage to Laphroaig, which is not really what I’m aiming for. Instead, it’s really an homage to how smoke is never the same from whisky to whisky, and may well be the most romantic and remarkable flavor that any whisky exhibits. Only a few whiskies in the world really embrace smoke as a principal flavor component, and in only a fraction of them does the smoke really define that whisky, smelling and tasting like no other smoke you’ll find in another whisky.
The Laphroaig 15 year has always been one of my favorite Laphroaig expressions. It’s left behind the brash, raw smoke of youth and begun to segway into the more restrained, well-balanced smokiness of middle-age. It’s bottled at 43%, and so retains some of the explosive flavor that you’ll find in cask-strength versions.
The 15-year pours gold with a lightly coppered tinge. The nose is dominated by smoke - that peculiarly specific Laphroaig smoke – , accompanied by mint, red berryish fruit, and a hint of butterscotch. The palate is a mouthfull of peat to begin with – a rich, elemental combination of smoke and earth – accompanied by an undercurrent of sweet poached pears, apple and cranberry pie, and crushed mint. Smoke is again dominant on the finish, accompanied by apples and pears and a fine layer of citrus.
A great, classic, go-to whisky, the perfect bridge between the younger 10 year and the older, 25 or 30 year bottlings. What fun it would be to taste through the range, kicking off with the Quarter Cask, making your way to the 10 year and then the 10 year cask-strength, moving on to the 15, the 18, the 25…the 30.
Problem is, that 30 year stole my heart away, and left me with a taste for older, well-aged Laphroaigs. I’m jaded, prevented from fully appreciating such a fine whisky as this 15 year by my dallies with its older siblings. Whither my smoky palate?!
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