Whisky Online Blog

Last wednesday was Burns night and I didn’t post anything which was immediately a source of annoyance to me, in fact I haven’t posted anything for about ten days now so this only magnifies my frustration. The demands of having a real job finally seem to be hitting home. Anyway, the arrival at my desk of an old miniature of 12yo Lagavulin from the 1980s seems to have breezed the dust of off these pages and re-booted my whisky mojo. There is no evidence that Robert Burns had a particular fondness for Islay/peated whisky over the others. Although he did die at the age of 37, partly from terminal romanticism and melancholy, but also because he was a colossal piss head so I suspect he didn’t mind which distillery it came from (so long as it wasn’t Ferintosh). So this seems a fitting dram to belatedly celebrate his birthday, lets crack on…

Lagavulin 12yo OB. White Horse Distillers. 1980s rotation. 43%. 5cl. 

Colour: Rosewood (surprisingly dark)

Nose: Wow! Unmistakably Lagavulin, an old style one with plenty sherry. It has something of these old 12yo white label editions from the 1970s but it is also very much like the current 16yo except punchier, earthier, rootier and more coastal. There is also something a bit ‘old Ardbeggy’ about it in the sheer tarry, oily density of the phenols. Big sizzling peat, loads of oils, medicine, seaweed, frying bacon, crashing coastal notes, seashore, lemongrass, coal dust and fresh oysters. This is quite different the even bigger than the other full size bottle versions that I’ve tried in the past. Quite spectacular really. Goes on with lots of mints and dark chocoalte (Bendick’s bittermints), wiht peat syrup, more tar and just an endless plethora of coastal, medicinal, farmyard and industrial qualities. Pretty stunning.

Palate: Is this really 43%? A large slab of peat upon delivery, fat, oily, juicy and drying. Kippers, smoked mussels, brine, seawater, creosote, some flickers of dark and dried fruits from the sherry but it’s mostly bags of coastal and medical qualities that dominate up front. TCP, mouthwash, germoline, a mouthful of dried seaweed then salt and vinegar crisps. Balsamic vinegar now with spearmint, more of these super fat phenols, oils, peated honey (?) and coarse black pepper. Wonderful.

Finish: Longer than Burn’s letter to Dr John Moore.

Comments: I’ve been fortunate enough to try quite a few old Lagavulins in recent months and what strikes me is the seemingly never-ending consistency of brilliance between them all. There are patters of personality and quirks of character that you can trace from the 1950s right though to the 1990s so it seems, especially when sherry is involved. This one was spectacular as excepted but the sherry and peat combination was a great deal more intense than expected. I think there was almost certainly some caramel in there but it wasn’t to a point of detriment if you ask me. I think Burns would have approved.

Score: 93/100

I wouldn’t do a post like this without a bit of music. When it comes to Burns I’ll not waste my breath by laying out what marked him as a genius when his words are still echoing though our psyche centuries after he committed them to paper. I think it would be better to just shut up and listen. It is hard to choose a particular poem or song over the others, so many of them already seem like perfect and ancient lynchpins of modern songwriting that to have a favourite would be to miss the point a little. However, there is one that springs to mind in these heady Scottish days when we are ruminating on nationalism, independence and the ramifications of severing our ties to the rest of the UK. Much poetry and polemic is spun about it in both directions by our ceaseless politicians but perhaps Burn’s 1791 slice of national navel gazing that is A Parcel O’ Rogues, with its sadly angry bitterness over Scottish greed and waning of willpower, says as much today as it did then.

Seeing as this series is in danger of becoming the ‘Rocky’ of whisky blog posts I think this will almost certainly be the last one. After Port Ellen, Ardbeg and Lagavulin it seems logical that we will cover Laphroaig, the final Islay southerner. So unless someone wants to send me a stash of old 73/74 Longrow or early 70s Brora samples then I don’t think we’ll see parts five or six anytime soon.

Anyway, without further prattle and ado…

Laphroaig 20yo. Douglas Laing. OMC. Sherry Hogshead. 50%. 70cl.

Had this sample kicking about for some time, sadly no image to go with it I’m afraid. I adore sherried Laphroaigs though so I’m keen to try this one.

Colour: Dark amber

Nose: A strange kind of grizzly fruitiness at first. Very Laphroaig, loads of tincture, iodine, tcp and other medicinal qualities but with a lovely metallic edge like wet iron and steel wool. Smoky bacon, dried herbs and salt, bacon crisps? Flat cola, peat, cola cubes, hot tar, rope, root beer, wet earth and hints of dark rum. Quite a superlative nose really, great distillery character but with that classic, surprisingly clean, sherry slant. Unctuous, leafy, salty and thick with big notes of liquorice, key lime pie, lemon curd, wax, hessian, flints and other assorted mineral notes. Gets quite briny with a thick and turfy peat quality with some nice dried dark fruits. Great stuff, very enjoyable.

Palate: Massive, syrupy peat on delivery with big drying sherry right behind it, reminds me a little of some old peated Glen Gariochs (high praise indeed) with more earth, dried mushrooms, tcp, mouthwash, liquorice, charcoal, barbecue sauce and some lovely green fruits. Very medicinal, lots of medical sub complexities with big herbal liqueur qualities as well. Baked apples, smoked mussels, creosote, cola syrup, tobacco and seaweed soup. A perfect balance of sweet and dry.

Finish: Lemon curd again, fresh oysters, brine, menthol toothpaste, hessian, creosote, tar, tcp, wax and fading green fruits.

Comments: I really love Laphroaig in sherry and this one doesn’t disappoint. Displays the very best attributes of the modern style and is probably helped a lot by a top notch sherry cask. Clean, vibrant, resinous and powerful. Douglas Laing seem to have a had quite a few of these fresh sherry cask Laphroaigs from the late 1980s recently. Lets hope there are still plenty to come because they’ve all been great so far.

Score: 91/100

Laphroaig 1981-2008. 27yo. OB. Five oloroso sherry casks. 736 bottles. 56.6%. 70cl. 

Huge thanks to Nick for this one.

Colour: Dark Rosewood

Nose: A different level of sherry entirely. Super thick and intense with a much more subdued level of peat. At first its all on fresh tar and concentrated aromas of charcoal, dates, prunes, figs and other dark fruits. Lots of sultanas stewed in cognac, furniture polish, salted brazil nuts, chocolate, molasses, natural caramel and hot fudge. A very rare instance where the sherry has taken over from the peat, quite a potent cask selection indeed. Definitely need time. With a bit of patience it starts to become much more tropical and accessible. There is also a much bigger coastal presence, lots of wet rocks, seaweed, beach bonfires, iodine and kipper notes. Some resin, wax and putty as well with a slowly encroaching aged peat quality in the background. Very earthy, dry, thick and syrupy. Notes of cola and gomme syrups and something like redcurrant jam. With water: a tropical fruit and nut cocktail now. Lots of soft tropical notes on top of crushed walnuts, pecans and salted almonds. Then lighter vegetal qualities, more tar, geraniums and salted dark chocolate.

Palate: Neat it is a powerhouse of a Laphroaig, orange bitters, peated marmalade (what) burnt wood, barbecue sauce, masses of molasses (ha), herb liqueur, rancio, wild mushrooms, cola cubes again, bacon, brown sauce, tar, lashings of medicine and a warehouse full of dark, fruit laden sherry. Drying and moist like swallowing a whole Guinness cake. Loads of mixed nuts, phenols, quince jelly, muesli, juniper, gentian root, root beer, coal, creosote, salt cured meats and bovril. A monster of a Laphroaig, but more so because of the sherry than the peat it has to be said. With water: ok it’s softer but it is still very drying, thick and syrupy. Lots of fat eucalyptus notes, seaweed, tar, smoked fish and black pepper. A smattering of mineral notes and then more leafy fruitiness, orange and lemon notes with bay leaves, thyme and ginseng tea.

Finish: Incredibly long, like waiting for the credits to roll on Return Of The King. You practically have to scrape your mouth clean of peated sherry afterwards. Buy a new toothbrush!

Comments: In any other whisky this level of sherry would be too much for me and I’d be tempted to mark it down but the sheer power and force of personality that Laphroaig possess seems to have held everything together brilliantly, although I doubt these casks would have made it to 30. Fantastic, a whisky for those that like them black and potent (unless you’re a Loch Dhu fan in which case you’re on the wrong blog). Anyway, a real power house dram, intense, extreme and brilliant.

Score: 94/100

Laphroaig 1964-1981. Berry Brothers & Rudd. Sherry cask. 43%. 75cl.

Sadly no picture for this one. A rightly legendary bottling from Berry Bros.

Colour: Amber/Brown

Nose: A stunning combination of resinous peat, crystalised and tropical fruits and perfect sherry. This is followed by super dense coastal notes, raisins, wet earth, coal dust, aged cognac, smoked almonds, marzipan, hints of rancio and a little aged antiseptic. Just brilliant, one of those perfect noses. Ancient dry phenols, peat, wax and little dustiness. Then fresh oysters, preserved lemons, smoked mussels, camphor, and some phenomenal vegetal and herbal notes. I could go on but I might never taste it, a staggering nose.

Palate: Enormous, fat, drying, dusty, organic peat. Completely covers and engages every part of the palate, then an avalanche of tropical fruits, an incredible delivery. Develops along more complex lines with dark brown sugar, old vanilla, honey, camphor, pine resin, huge herbaceous notes and a big growing saltiness. Notes of salted beef, sarsaparilla, gentian eau de vie, root beer, dark chocolate, seaweed and yet more drying peats. Lets stop this wonderful, wonderful madness.

Finish: Long and filled with waxy peat, herbs, vegetal, earthy and coastal qualities. Then finally a mineral and beautiful fade.

Comments: One of those bottlings that makes you remember why you’re into whisky in the first place. Massive at 43% in a way that only Laphroaig seems to be able to pull off. A masterpiece of complexity, poise, intensity, length and balance. Brilliant!

Score: 95/100

A legendary old Samaroli bottling of Laphroaig

Laphroaig 1970-1986. Duthie for Samaroli. 720 bottles. 54%. 75cl. 

No much needs saying about this legendary bottling. Eternal gratitude to Patrick for these last two drams.

Colour: Straw Gold

Nose: A mesmerising combination of seashore, coastal and fresh peat aromas. Hugely complex with lashings of citrus, oysters, salt, iodine, mint, kippers, white pepper and old rope. Develops onto tar, seaweed, coal dust and, after time, luscious notes of fresh lime juice. Then eucalyptus oils, more pristine saltiness and massive notes of brine that lend the whole nose a stunning freshness. Just incredible really. Perfectly dry and a complex with exceptionally elegant notes of minerals, smoked tea, old style peat and, eventually, fruit. The fruit is perfectly tropical but also surprisingly resinous and crystallised which lends the whole profile an extra layer of depth and complexity. With water: some super salty blue cheese, lemon juice, papaya, coal dust again, more minerals, buttered toast, herbs, shellfish and peat oils.

Palate: A tropical whirlwind. Just epic amounts of passion fruits, guavas, greengages, melons and lemons. Absolutely brilliant delivery. Further notes of fragrant smoke, black pepper, smoked cereals, tar, green peat and motor oil. Still massively coastal and balanced. With water: Not too much change, the coastal aspects got a bit bigger till they’re almost equal to the fruits. Layers and layers of complexity that I can’t even begin to get into now, salty, tropical, oily, peaty and medicinal in myriad ways, it just keeps on going…

Finish: No comment!

Comment: An utter masterpiece. This is the sort of bottle that really sets the bar for all others to be measured against. At least I think it does.

Score: 96/100

Well that ties up this little series of masterpieces quite nicely. It’s been a pretty devastating path of uninterrupted peaty beauty, one that leads only to the point where you could instantly start again or go for something new and equally mind blowing. We’re all searching for the new, the unknown bottling, all seeking the next hidden masterpiece. Sadly, as with all whiskies of this calibre, that is not always an option and one day, probably in the not too distant future, it will stop being an option for every body. These bottles wont last forever, the liquid will inevitably die, although, long before that happens, they will already be out of grasp to any buyer. When there are only three and then two bottles left of the Laphroiag 1970 or the Port Ellen 1969, what will happen then? I think distillers should be made to taste whiskies like these ones, if the people that make whisky don’t know how good it can be, if they don’t fully comprehend the organoleptic heights to which these spirits can soar then how can we ever hope to make whisky this good again. There are many who say it can’t be done but that is complete baldershit if you ask me. It is purely a recipe, a process governed by the whim of chemistry and practice. Great whiskies like these could be made again. It just needs someone with the will power to do it, the understanding of what made the greatest whiskies so great and the balls, madness and sheer bloody mindedness to do it.

Oh and money. Lots of money. Perhaps therein lies the problem. Perhaps someone should donate a sample of Ardbeg Kingsbury 67 to Bill Gates and see if he fancies taking a punt on funding a distillery…? Just an idea.

I’m not sure how long this series will go on for, but it is quite fun as the premise is basically that I taste some of the greatest peated whiskies ever made and laud it over all my chums. As far as I can see this is an excellent basis for a tasting series, one that I feel able to sustain for quite some time. Anyway, we’ve tackled Ardbeg and Port Ellen, today is the turn of Lagavulin. What mystic wonders could we unearth here…?

Excuse the poor photo. Fergus knows not the art of whisky bloggery.

Lagavulin 12yo. OB. White Label. Screw Cap. Rotation late 1970s. 43%. 75cl. 

Its funny that on the day I go to the Glasgow Whisky Festival and taste many fine drams, my flatmate Fergus is at his uncles house in Dunlop drinking whisky far superior to anything the show could throw at us. It seems I’ll have to take a trip down to Ayrshire sometime soon.

Colour: Amber

Nose: Lashings of seashore, oily kippers, brine, minerals, wet gravel, coal, carbolic soap, tar and tcp. Very typical but also somehow quite fresh and not as intensely old style as I was expecting, it has these very thick citrus peat notes which are actually quite modern. Although there is no denying its origin, the thickness of the peat and those intense oily/mineral qualities are quite stunning and far removed from anything distilled today. Lots of seaweed, tar, glistening phenols, euthymol toothpaste, a wonderfully dry peatiness and some farmy notes of motor oil and cow sheds. Braw!

Palate: Huge delivery, thick and massive peat notes wrapped up in an intense oiliness. Just fantastic. Green fruits, plum jam, concentrated antiseptic, crushed sea salt, black pepper (a well seasoned whisky), dried seaweed, old rope, hessian and graphite oil. This is ruinously drinkable stuff and quite different from some of the other old ‘White Label 12s that I’ve tried, more focused on dry coastal qualities and a much oilier, fatter kind of peat. Continues along this wonderfully thick and drying route with some wood notes, tar, hints of caramel (sadly not in the best kind of way) and more silky saline qualities. More brine, lemon juice, fresh oysters and notes of calpol. Scrummy stuff!

Finish: Long and resinous, full of peat oils, smoked cereals, drying coastal notes, lemon wax and hits of green fruits.

Comments: This is hyper-gluggable stuff. I love it. Although I think it’s a curious stylistic departure from some of the other rotations of this old 12yo. Somehow a touch more modern in some aspects while retaining a huge old style quality in other ways. A multifaceted dram by any measure. Oddly I much preferred the palate to the nose on this one. The only problem is that you can feel there is maybe a touch too much caramel in this batch. Damn caramel! Anyway, they’re small quibbles, it’s a stunning dram.

Score: 92/100

Many thanks to Fergus, Uncle Gerry and Granddad for this wee beauty.

This is the sample of the Lagavulin rotation 1958 that I tasted courtesy of Olivier.

Lagavulin 12yo. OB. White Label. Spring Cap. Rotation 1958. 75 proof. 26 3/4 Fl Oz. 

A mind fryingly rare bottling, of which there is only one still known to exist. This sample came from a bottle that was opened at the ‘Verviers Verticale’ at Whisky Live Belgium back in 2007. The sample was taken at the time of pouring by Olivier Humbrecht who so generously opened it (along with a myriad of other incredible bottles) during D-Day weekend.

Colour: Amber/Brown

Nose: Fascinating. Very burnt, like an old barbecue grill, charcoal, barbecue sauce and concentrated tar. Lots of intense fishy notes, I’ve never smelt a whisky that so closely resembled the aroma of a small harbour. Peppered mackerel, roll mop herring, salted cod, kreel nets, hot smoked salmon and horseradish, an incredible fishiness, almost extremely so, like tar coated aged fish or something. Sounds disgusting but it’s actually quite stunning. Huge saltiness, cereal and, after time, more classical notes of earth, soot, coal and a straighter, old school kind of peatiness. With time these extreme notes of fish and burnt wood start to die down quite a bit and in their place we have beautiful aromas of hardwood shavings, like if you’ve ever used a lathe, wax polish, oiled metal, flints, various oils and camphor. Such a bizarre, intense and incredible nose that it is both extreme and beautiful in equal measure. After more time there are notes of mint, eucalyptus oil and classical sherry characters.

Palate: Quite consistent with more of these enormous notes of burnt wood, charcoal, cereals, black pepper, wax, motor oil, polished metal, iron fillings and an undercurrent of dark fruits . Quite some classical sherry notes on the palate with dried dark fruits, dark chocolate, menthol sweets, rancio, cognac and gingerbread. More fishy qualities begin to arise with time, then smoked grains, light vegetal notes, touches of perfect OBE. What an incredible and truly unique whisky, I’ve never tasted anything quite like it.

Finish: Mint, barbecue sauce, lots of wax, hugely phenolic, oily and fishy but also now quite fruity as well (finally some fruit). A cavalcade of everything that’s gone before. Beautiful.

Comments: This really is the epitome of emotional whisky, on an emotional level this is beyond 100 points, what a true privilege to taste something so historical and incredible. It’s also hard because it is undeniably a stunning whisky. It is also worth mentioning that while tasting this Olivier and Serge also tasted it and they both opined that it had improved from how they remembered it when it was freshly opened back in 2007. Make of that what you will. It could be argued that those extraordinarily intense notes of fish and burnt wood were technically flaws but I found them personally rather mesmerising. Anyway, who cares, I’ll never taste it again, and nor will anyone else probably. Unless you can persuade Guiseppe Begnoni to open his bottle. Good luck with that one. HA!

Score: 94/100

Eternal gratitude to Olivier.

How about a little bonus…

White Horse. Hip flask bottle. Screw cap. Rotation 1958. 70 proof. 

We opened this to compare with the Lagavulin which was bottled in the same year.

Colour: Light Amber

Nose: Very green, metallic and vegetal. Vegetable soup from a tin, chickpeas, metal polish, steel wool, huge OBE, wax, dust and, unsurprisingly, peat. A very mushroomy, mulchy nose with big notes of dried mushrooms and damp earthy cellars. Old Madeira wine, game and slightly rotten vegetal notes but not necessarily in a completely unpleasant way. Kind of like a mushroom and goats cheese risotto with background notes of tarragon and sage.

Palate: Typical old blend. Very waxy, vegetal, metallic and quite dusty with huge notes of OBE. Some earthiness, drying salt, seaweed, touches of mint and earthy old peat. Tarragon and garlic covered escargot (well I did taste it in Alsace), more dust, a touch of cardboard, more mushrooms, mint tea, basic and coal.

Finish: Medium length and full of engine oil, coal, tar ,medicine, vegetables and earth. Also a drying saltiness.

Comments: It’s always fascinating to try whiskies like these, but this is a long way from the majesty of the 30s and 40s era White Horses. However, I suspect a lot of that is down to the fact that it is such a small bottle, which often magnifies the OBE to quite a degree as has clearly happened here. Full size bottles from the same years would probably be far superior and more nuanced. There’s no denying though that the peat level has dropped quite significantly when compared to older rotations of White Horse. Probably by the late 1950s they were starting to be much more conservative with the malt content in their blends. Back in the 30s and 40s it was often oven over 50%.

Score 80/100