Whisky Online Blog

So, we’ve come to the end of this little Campbeltown trip. It wasn’t comprehensive, or in depth and it took several days longer than a week but apart from that I’d say it was generally successful. Anything that allows me to drink nice whisky here in South America I consider a highly worthwhile venture. The reason this ‘series’ of sorts has been a little more staggered than I intended is due to the effort it took to get to where I am currently residing, La Paz, Bolivia. It was frustrating to get here and I’ll spare you all the details but due to industrial strike action, which has strangled the roads and bus routes on both sides of the Boliva/Peru border, I found it necessary to take a 10 hour boat across the stunning Lake Titicaca. The boat was very slow, traveling at speeds only just in excess of backwards and it managed to break down twice. I also managed to get sunburned while inside the boat, I foolishly dozed off near a window and was awoken out of pity by a Peruvian woman who had obviously tired of watching my face stray through the ‘toasted scot’ colour spectrum. I should not be surprised though, being Scottish I have a natural ability to achieve sunburn in even the most trying circumstances, indoors at 3 am in winter is not unheard of. Long exposure to lava lamps can lead to skin cancer in some extreme cases.

But I digress. For this last tasting I saved the best till last, at least I suspect it is the best till last. Today we’ll have a pair of sherried, cask strength Springbanks. I really think that above all other distilleries in Scotland, Springbank is the only one still producing a genuine and authentically old style whisky. The last time I visited the distillery was the open day which was nearly a year ago today. I was struck by the efforts put into the production, the long fermentations that stop at 4% instead of 8% alcohol, the variety of casks used and the intelligence with which they were deployed, not just dull and pointless finishing but complete maturation and double maturation methods that create much more interesting results. The use of locally grown bere barley, floor malted by hand and dried using a variety of peating levels, the use of direct firing on the wash still. All these aspects combined make a much more distinctive and, dare I say it, artisanal whisky than most other modern distillers could dream of. Most of these production methods have been reintroduced and exercised regularly since the mid nineties which explains the mighty leap in quality of most Springbank bottlings in recent years. If they maintain these practices then hopefully Springbank will remain an old school oasis in a desert of mediocrity for years to come. Thinking about the future of most distilleries when looking at their current products is often a deflating experience, with Springbank and its trilogy of distillates it is positively thrilling to imagine how these stocks will develop over the next two decades. Anyway, enough waffle, lets drink (I mean professionally analyse) some whisky…

I don't have any pictures of the 1997 batch 1 bottling but I imagine it was matured in casks very similar to these ones.

Springbank 1997 OB. Batch no 1. Bottled 2007. 11000 bottles. 55.2%. 70cl.

Colour: Runny Honey

Nose: Briny, farmy and thick at first with big notes of treacle, baked apples, old rope, dunnage warehouse, bandages and several other soft medicinal complexities. This seems to touch every point of the flavour compass to a certain degree and is extremely approachable at full strength. Now it becomes beautifully fruity with notes of fresh melon, green bananas, sultanas, figs and apple peelings. More coastal elements begin to emerge with time as do some very nice, nippy peppery notes, it just seems to keep on developing, I’m not sure I want to add water but I suppose I’d better try and maintain some semblance of professionalism…  With water it gets drier, smokier and leafier with some notes of grass, bonfire,  hessian, wax and menthol, this is so old school, I’m really impressed. Now it starts it throw up all kinds of distillery aromas like pot ale, wort and yeasty fermentation notes. It could be just a little too bitter but the fruitiness holds everything together. Fantastic!

Palate: Neat this a no holds barred oilfest, bags of garden fruits, coastal freshness, salty preserved lemons, creosote, tar, old boilers, some vital minerality, camphor, peat, red fruits and dry, nutty sherryness (a word?).  The sherry is remarkably clean, there is a faint hint of something potentially dirty but comes across more as a wonderful resinous earthy note, I really like it. Becomes slightly minty and leafy with time. Spectacularly old style in its nature, it reminds me to an extent of some old spring cap White Horse blends from the 40s and 50s, and that is really saying something. With water: more oiliness, big notes of menthol, creosote, tobacco, gentle ‘fat’ peatiness and something very resinous and waxy in the background. Still like an ancient peaty blend if you ask me.

Finish: Long and really fruity with more menthol, coal, soft peats and coastal citrus aspects.

Comments: There are so many bottlings by Springbank in recent years that, with twenty or so years in glass, will be world beating drams. Who said old school distillates were dead? This is like a blast from the past. I have tried this one before and I remember liking it but not to this extent, maybe this is a dram that really requires concentration, a clean palate and a lot of time in the glass to really ‘get it’. But then again you could probably say that about any whisky.

Score: 91/100

Springbank 15yo. ‘Fossicker’s Cask’. OB for Fossicker’s Society. Cask 537. 56.8%.  70cl.

I don’t have much more info for this bottling. It was done for a private club called the ‘Fossicker’s’ which seems to be a group of Edinburgh based chums who like to drink whisky and get up to mischief. One of their members is an old friend of my Dad’s which is how we acquired this particular bottle. I haven’t seen it anywhere else and, being a private cask, I suspect most bottles have been consumed by now, so these notes may end up being completely useless. Sorry about that.

Colour: Amber

Nose: Thicker and oilier at first than the 97, more notes of orange liqueur, toffee, whisky fudge and nuts. Still very typical Springabank and feels like it could be a cask strength version of the OB 15yo. Natural caramel, dates, motor oil, an earthy farminess and some more subdued coastal aromas. Again this is very approachable for a cask strength dram and really shows lots of distillery character with well balanced, discreet sherry qualities. The sherry is very clean with those same nice earthy, tobacco notes in the background. Hints of rotting orange peel begin to arise but they seem to work quite well, it makes for a very interesting profile. It is globally quite similar on the nose but with more concentration and less complexity than the 97. With water: it gets amazingly fresh and expressive, full on coastal aroma now with bags of citrus notes, mint, earthy forest notes, dried fruits and nutmeg.

Palate: Again, wonderful delivery at cask strength but with a big blast of mentholated, fruity peat. Its quite amazing how similar these two drams are, same old style qualities that remind me of many great old peaty blends from decades back. Lovely development on gentle, oily coastal notes followed by bags of phenolic fruits like tinned pineapple, more melon, ripe banana and, again that distinctive sultana note, really impressive stuff. It’s still not as complex as the 97 but it really makes up for it with focus and intensity of flavour. With Water: still remarkably oily when taken down to +/-46%. Again that freshness is well in evidence, great connection between the palate and the nose. Some floral notes of geraniums, gin, aloe vera and coriander come through now but still with a wonderfully soft peatiness in the background. Ok enough of this nonsense!

Finish: Long and oily, very similar to the 97 in other aspects.

Comments: David can we have another bottle of this please! Lucky Fossicking bastards! Other than that the same comments as the 97 apply here.

Score: I can’t decide between the two so it’ll be 91/100 again.

Thanks to David and to Dad for this one.

Before we go lets do that usual sacrilege blending thing again…

An equal mix of both is a savage blast of Springbankiness. As usual with these things the best aspects of both seem to be magnified. Though there are some massive notes of chocolate and boot polish that weren’t there before, I wonder how that happened. Otherwise its as peaty, coastal, oily and brilliant as you’d expect. A pair of stunning drams if you ask me, I can only imagine what these casks will be like when they have another 18-20 years behind them, Local Barley all over again dare I say?

Hazelburn is a curious spirit. Produced regularly at Springbank since 1997 and triple distilled, it sounds like a recipe for grand success. But it hasn’t been, not really, not in the sense that Longrow and Springbank have both generated cult followings. The fault arguably lies in the spirit itself, none of the bottlings have so far been mind boggling, it is unpeated and triple distilled, a bad recipe for young whisky, these are aspects that cry out for age to fortify them and afford them the correct time to bloom. What strikes me most about the Hazelburns I have tried so far is the dislocation between nose and palate. Most of them perform beautifully on the nose, clearly Campbeltown in origin, coastal yet softer and more citrus in style. You can never get the peat out of stills like those at Springbank and it shows in Hazelburn, for all its claims to be unpeated and triple distilled it remains distinctly robust for a ‘lighter’ style malt. Then you take a sip and something seems to happen, all that promise seems to come undone, not drastically, they are still fine malts, its just that odd flavours usually start to appear, all too often that rotten orange peel note, the one that seems to dog Longrow on occasion, will surface.

A complete set of the first editions of Hazelburn launched back in 2005.

That said, Hazelburn is clearly good whisky. Whenever I try it all I get is the feeling that there is something special just waiting to happen inside the glass. The answer is, as we already touched on, time, pure and simple. Unlike Longrow’s ability to show so well at younger ages (as in the great CV), Hazelburn shares something of Springbank’s occasional need to get some age behind it in order to shine. I can’t imagine how there won’t be some stunning examples of Hazelburn in 10-15 years time, everything feels right, all the dominoes are in place, they just happen to still be falling that is all. So really, if there is a fault, it lies with us and not Hazelburn, we are an impatient breed we whisky nerds. The good people at Springbank clearly understand this as we have been spared a raft of pointless finishes and laughable dabblings in silly wood technology. We have been offered snapshots of an evolving spirit so far, they know full well to leave it otherwise alone and let time do the necessary graft to get it up to its full potential. I like Hazelburn and I think it is one of the properly exciting new malts of recent years, unlike so many heavily peated variants that are forever being touted as exciting, this is a genuine labour of love on Springbank’s behalf and a whisky that is evolving at a pace that suggests true rewards later on. In short: Hazelburn may smell like Diet Springbank, but it really reeks of potential.

Hazelburn 8yo. OB. ‘Cask Strength’. Bottled 2010. 56%. 70cl.

I really thought I took a picture of this one when I got the sample but evidently not according to my hard drive. Sorry.

Colour: Gold with a greenish tinge.

Nose: Dusty and green with many cereal qualities but also notes of honey, chutney(?), mead, marmalade and some very elegant coastal notes. Quite orangey and fruity despite the high alcohol and triple distillation. Given time it starts to betray its lightness with notes of honeysuckle, flowers, seabreeze, candy floss and mint. So far this is pretty delightful really, none of the awkwardness that has befallen many other Hazelburns, it speaks very clearly of Campbeltown. With water: it throws up some interesting notes of lavender and violets, ala 1980’s Bowmore, but nothing like as extreme as that. Fragrant soaps, very floral, cola cubes, cherry lips, quite confectionery really. Moves on to become more biscuity with notes of digestive, shortbread and caramel wafers, then desiccated cocoanut and Tunnock’s snowballs. (Man I could go for one of those right now!)

Palate: Gah, big alcohol. Some notes of furniture polish, wood shavings, pine air freshener and strawberry jam. Needs water… much better, settles down with some nice notes of resin, camphor, green tea, mint leaves, sawdust, a little paraffin and rosewater. Not quite as stellar as on the nose at first but still a fine dram and surprisingly mature for eight years. Develops more honey and something a little vegetal like a tequila note, Hazelburn slammers anyone? The coastal aspects become quieter with time.

Finish: Brunt toast, butter, a little bitter but with a decent length.

Comments: See all that stuff I wrote above. This one is a perfect example of that Hazelburn ‘problem’, not that it’s really a problem. I can’t wait till this is 18 years old.

Score: 80/100

Next time we’ll go back to Springbank. (Not that we really left it mind you.)

I got called sentimental recently. It was a charge levelled in good humour by friends and it was in relation to the post I wrote about saying goodbye to my friend Rupert. About sharing some Old Pulteney 12yo with him during the moto ride to the bus station. You can judge for yourselves here. On reflection I think I probably am prone to sentimentality. It is hard not to be in the wake of such emotional circumstance. So these thoughts are very much in my mind this week since I left Pisco Sin Fronteras this Tuesday. I can’t promise I won’t be sentimental about it.

Thays and Laura, two of the hardest working friends I met at PSF.

I’ve often alluded to the difficulty in trying to sum up feelings about something like PSF. It is a life changing experience to spend time somewhere like that. At the moment it is still so raw and close that objectivity remains a struggle. I don’t know how my attitude towards it all will flesh out in the coming months and years, what will come to stand out and signify that overflowing four and a half months. A Tardisesque spec of time, with its hidden depths and corners stuffed so full of experience that it seems now scarcely real. The feeling of having awoken from a dream floats around me as I’m stuck here in Puno, waiting for a bus to take me the rest of the way to La Paz.

Maartje and Tim at the 'Ultimate Ninja' tournament.

However there are images, spectres in those dreamy visions that spring to mind. When I think of PSF I think of cement dust, I think of the shattering whine of circular saws. I think of warm beer and standing in line for dinner. I think of an old woman and her disabled daughter. I think of electric shocks in the shower. I think of impact drivers and run down batteries. I think of people crying under the weight of emotion. I think of maddened laughter and drunkenness. I think of sweat. I think of sunburn. I think of goodbyes. I think of a desert with many faces. I think of a young girl called Georgette, sent back to her mother in Lima without a goodbye. I think of wood. I think of wood reconstructed in a myriad of new forms. I think of modular panels and I think of earthbags. I think of hunger and of money. I think of my own family far away. I think of Stephen, Rupert, Laura, Alex, Thays, Maartje, Carson, Andrew, Frank, Lucy, Suzanne, Lisa, Dylan, Kathryn, Pete, Jimmy, Lynn, Robin, Christian, Anna, Brodie, Sabrina, Amanda, Tim, Ariel, Jack, Jen, David, Leo, Bevan, Mel, Kareen, Nessa, Coleen, Naveen, Heather, Patrick, Natasha, Kent, Leen, Will, Shannon, Alec, Quentin, Brian, Jaffa, Beccy, North, Eileen, Imran, Magnus, Kitty, Liam, Ross, Marley, Dakota, Claudi and many more.

Georgette, a young girl who lived on our project site for a while. She was seemingly allergic to good behavior.

When I left I gave into my own sentimentality and shared, yet again, a whisky in the back seat of a mototaxi with another truly great friend, Alex. It went down well over the fading sting of the previous nights Climax session (see here). Myself and fellow long termer Laura left at the same time and were accompanied by Alex and Thays to the bus station. I’ve known Alex for the full four and a half months I’ve been at PSF. He is Scottish and we shared much common experience of Glasgow and its University. We were the only two Scots there for most of the time and made short work of expressing this through endless thematic banter. However we only just discovered in the last two days that we shared a mutual best friend and had met on several occasions over the past few years. Especially when we went paintballing together and attended the same ‘silly hat party’. We both agreed that it is indeed ‘a small world’.

Alex, my fellow Scottish compadre. Shown here in one of his better moods.

I shared a small bottle of the Springbank 10yo ‘100 Proof’ that I was saving for this week’s Campbeltown tastings. Like the Old Pulteney last time it seemed perfect, potent, raw and intruding across all senses. Maybe it’s just something about coastal whiskies. It also made me think of how people that truly love whisky use it as punctuation to life’s deeper moments. Whisky has a real power to articulate and score situations like these, to underline and hammer home the emotion and significance of what goes on outside the glass. I loved every drop of that Springbank as we drank it, to the point that you may well question the validity of the notes I am about to write for it. I saved some to write about but the proximity of my last experience with it may well cloud my judgement. I don’t know if it will or not. You may have to take my notes with a pinch of salt. I think sometimes writers are allowed some leeway to be a little biased though. And what’s more…. I couldn’t care less.

Springbank 10yo. ‘100 Proof’. OB. Bottled 2009. 57%. 70cl.

Colour: Pale white wine

Nose: Wet, punchy and coastal at first. Brimming with wet rocks, minerals, lemon juice, oysters, peppered mackerel and citrusy, oily phenols. Has something quite Longrowesque about it, like the two spirits met somewhere along the line and shook hands. It’s brimming with expressive coastal aromas, even at full strength with big notes of salty black olives, seaweed, kelp, brine, something faintly medicinal and fresh lime juice. With water: big grassiness now, green, fruity and herbaceous, delicate garden fruits and still more coastal character but with more overt complexity now. Becomes more salty, gristy and mentholated with time.

Palate: Neat it’s a powerhouse with alcohol talking much louder than on the nose. It’s gristy and oily, like old boilers with plenty raw, clean cereal notes behind the pepperiness. Has a lot of youthfulness but the flavours do all the talking and it is remarkably well poised between youthful power and controlled maturity. Pine resin, petrol, spearmint and creosote all appear with still more intensity. Probably needs water: has some farmy elements now like old hay, horse stables and coal. Becomes quite sooty and those gentle peaty phenols become drier and smokier. Some kippery notes emerge as well along with notes of thyme and rosemary. Saltier still, this is epically coastal whisky.

Finish: Long, limey, lemony, zingy, fresh, salty, coastal and oily. Really sticks to the gums this one.

Comments: I love this whisky. I remember trying it when it was first released, I went and bough a bottle of it and I found it quite hard going. I took a long time to finish it. I think it is a good indication of how your tastes can change, I love these old school, difficult whiskies now. I find this an infinitely more challenging dram than many of the Islay peat monsters. This has real old school character to it, probably more so than any other modern Scottish distillate. I wish they hadn’t discontinued it, I don’t think the new 12yo is nearly as good as this baby. For my money this is the best thing Springbank has released in a long time, naked distillery character, well matured, expressive and fantastically focused whisky. I imagine this will be utterly stunning after twenty more years in the bottle.

Score: 90/100

Praise indeed but I still think my score is fair, despite any emotional ‘attachment issues’.

Lets hope there is more of this kind of whisky floating around the warehouses at Springbank.

I don’t know how I’ll come to measure PSF in the future, but this much I know for certain. I made the best friends I ever knew there and it was the best thing I did in my life so far. Bad things can only be undone and changed in inches, and with the help of many people better than me, I helped to change a few more inches. I hope the process continues beyond the borders of PSF, I hope the feeling of PSF is an infection that spreads, one that I’ll never shake as I continue that endless journey they call ‘growing up’. Maybe that’s sentimental, but I find myself without the presence of mind to worry about such things these days.