Drummuir Castle: kind of like Diageo's 'Room 101' for brand loyalty and allocation acceptance.

It’s that time of year again. I was recently fortunate enough to attend the Scottish launch of Diageo’s annual high-end stocking filler extravaganza, or, to give them their boring name: The Special Releases 2012. It was held in the jaw-plummetingly plush Drummuir Castle which, if you’ve never been there, is a bit like being in an episode of Monarch Of The Glen. Except with more middle aged men complaining about pricing structures and allocations and less grizzly highland ghillies or constantly reappearing long-lost relatives. It’s quite a fun night in some lovely surroundings with the full power of Diageo’s hospitality machine constantly battering you about the head like velvet pillow laced with 1970s Brora. Their plan is ingenious, gather together a bundle of cantankerous and grumble-prone retailers, point them in the direction of a wall of ancient and rare single malts, tell them to help themselves, then shepherd them all to another room to quaff the new bottlings, then feed them a three course Michelin star meal, then promptly return them all to the first room and tell them to continue with part 1. The result is an exceptionally fine communal hangover and a nagging, but ever so bewildering, feeling that you’ve somehow been tricked into having a good time. One thing Diageo do exceptionally well is hospitality, for a company that absorbs so much flak, they certainly know how to look after people when they want to, something they never really get much credit for. For my part, it was largely a big heap of fun, mainly because I’m not a retailer (thank God) and therefor don’t have to fight a constant uphill struggle against the booze-monolith that is Diageo, or any of the other hulking great drinks companies for that matter. Instead I simply wandered about casually quaffing the best part of a bottle of 32yo Mortlach and winding up as many people as I considered realistically possible. There was one dismal moment whereupon I wounded the inside of my mouth on a particularly sharp roast potato during dinner but it was otherwise a mirthsome evening. Anyway, what follows are my notes for this year’s releases. I never published notes for last year’s so, where possible, I’ve included some of those as well for comparison. I won’t be cramming them all into one ungainly post so we’ll do it in two (or maybe three parts) I haven’t decided yet, we’ll see how the tasting goes. But enough wittering from me, on with the scribbles…

Lets start with the Caol Ila.

Caol Ila 14yo 1997 OB Special Releases 2012. 1st Fill European Oak Sherry casks. 5958 bottles. 59.3%. 70cl.

Colour: A woody chardonnay

Nose: Big. A lot of cream, fudge, linseed oil, touches of old rags and a background boiler smokiness. Quite a pungent wee bugger at first but enthralling none the less. Big notes of watercress, mustard seed, coal fires, butter, cabbage and cut grass. Very entertaining and more enjoyable on first impressions from previous examples that I’ve tried in this series. With water: some soft antiseptic, watered down bleach, plasticine, very acrid, a little salty and even quite aggressive in some parts. Water doesn’t seem to do it too many favours. With time some nice notes of lemon rind emerge but its not enough really.

Palate: Soggy brown bread, sunflower seeds, vinaigrette, alcohol, touches of tcp, lots of sea salt, an old chip wrapper and something slightly sappy. Not as striking at the nose really. Even becomes a little cheesy and acrid in some parts. Lets try with water: not much change, some nice notes of white balsamic vinegar, rapeseed oil, touches of hummus and a pepperyness like chewing rocket. Not bad but not stellar either.

Finish: A decent length, lemony, bready, slightly yeasty and very acrid but also a little too mono-dimensional for me.

Comments: I like the fact that this is a big, distillate driven malt that seems to display some quite old-style characteristics at times but it’s just a little to imbalanced and wacky for me. I’ve never been too struck by these un-peated Caol Ilas and this one just feels too much like hard work.

Score: 77/100

Lets compare it to last year’s bottling..

Caol Ila 12yo OB Special Releases 2011. 64.7%. 70cl. 

Colour: Straw

Nose: At first it is really just like a super high octane mix of tequila, sugar syrup, salt, coal and bay leaves. Quite difficult to get underneath that blanket of alcohol. Some white pepper, some lemon juice and sea breeziness but I think water is pretty essential here. With water lots of sea greens, minerals, pebbles, wet rocks, oysters, lemon juice, hints of fresh coriander, wet grains, smoked salmon and stables. Really excellent nose, very chiseled, clean and direct.

Palate: This is much better than the 2012 release, buttery, lemony, herbal and fresh, even at full strength it is quite sippable (if only in small sips). The first impression is one of having just brushed and flossed my teeth, these slightly fresh menthol notes are quite pleasing, add to that white pepper and a little lemon wax and its pretty tasty. With water: big, peppery, green and salty now with notes of green peppercorns in brine, hints of green phenols and youthful peat, coal smoke, tar and a little mead. Gets increasingly savory with brown bread, crushed malt and green apple peelings. More of that lively minerality as well.

Finish: Long, salty, savory, slightly medicinal and sharp. Keeps you on your toes.

Comments: This is easily superior to the 2012 release in my opinion, I think the mix of refill and first fill american oak suits the very specific kind of distillate that is Caol Ila Highland much better. I think you can still buy this one in some places.

Score: 85/100

Lagavulin 12yo OB Special Releases 2012. 31656 bottles. 56.1%. 70cl. 

Colour: White wine

Nose: Typically Lagavulin 12, a big furnace of antiseptic, tar, kippers, brine, wet earth, green peat, seaweed and pepper. Even with out water this is a wonderfully vocal whisky. Big notes of fresh lemon juice, white pepper, touches of hay, all kinds of seashore notes and some herbal liqueur aspects. With water: becomes much more herbal with big notes of tarragon, rosemary and thyme, also a dirtier smokiness, boiler sheds, tar, kreel nets and more industrial qualities. Some really nice interaction between big menthol qualities a heavy notes of hessian and barbeque sauce.

Palate: Lovely, rich, mineral laden peat with big notes of lemon juice, chocolate limes, oysters, caraway, tar, all kinds of drying medical qualities, dried herbs and bonfire smoke. I always find these Lagavulin 12s quite direct and simple but their brilliance lies in their potency, balance and raw power to evoke a place and mood, crashing waves on a shore and all that jazz. With water: mint, eucalyptus, peat resin (whatever that may be), bunsen burners, more caraway, minerals, silage (no I’ve never eaten silage it’s just an impression), touches of orange juice and marzipan. All the while this big bassline of coastal saltiness is rumbling away underneath.

Finish: Salt, old style peat, engine oil, tar, cured meats, salted mutton, peppermint tea, greengages and seaweed.

Comments: I haven’t tried Lagavulin 12 for quite some time and it’s easy to forget just what a great series of whiskies these have been and continue to be. I didn’t try it on the night because there seemed little point as it would have crushed the lighter and older malts. I think these are the sorts of bottles that when put aside of 20-40 years of bottle aging will really start to shine like diamonds. Everyone focuses on collecting the Port Ellen releases, I’d love a full set of these baby’s to be honest with you.

Score: 90/100

Lets see what difference a year makes…

Lagavulin 12yo OB Special Releases 2011. 56.1%. 70cl. 

Colour: White wine

Nose: Perhaps a little sharper than the 2012 release, maybe more of a salt n vinegar or pickled onion tang about this one but it’s otherwise almost the same whisky. The menthol is a little richer here at first nosing with more restrained saltiness and an oilier, heavier peat phenol profile. Frying bacon, salted almonds, sundried seaweed (it exists), anchovies and finally a growing, fat saltiness. With water: sea greens, sea salt, brine, white wine vinegar, hints of cigar smoke, boiler sheds, smoked mussels and taramasalata. The oiliness of the phenols remains joyously intact.

Palate: Again, incredibly similar but the peat has a more jelly-like, oily and mouth-coating presence with crushed green peppercorns, kippers in lemon juice, bay leaves, TCP, iodine and mouthwash. With water: green, peppery, wild, herbaceous and thick with soft notes of cola cubes, root beer, tcp, liquorice and pork scratchings. I think this one is just a notch bette than the 2012 release.

Finish: Long, earthy, green, sticky peat just lingers for ages with this one, salt, pepper, seaweed, crab meat, coke, mint and olive oil all knocking about in an old vinegar bottle. Brilliant.

Comments: See above for all the praise. I like this one even better than the 2012, that oily concentration of the peat and coastal characteristics is just that bit tighter and more focused. Really brilliant whisky, bursting with distillery character.

Score: 91/100

Tomorrow we’ll get stuck into some of the older ones. Stay tuned…

Many you will have seen the ‘Syndicate’ bottlings of Lagavulin that have been floating about over the past year or so. These are bottlings that came from stock laid down in 1979 and 1990 by James MacTaggart of Islay. They were bottled for him and his chums to have some serious private glugging whisky and, eventually, many made their way onto the open market via the Bruichladdich distillery visitor center through which they were sold. Now you can find them through specialist retailers and auction sites for ever increasing quantities of money. Today we’ll try four of them and see if they’re any good.

Lagavulin 14yo 1990. ‘Syndicate’. 46%. 70cl.

Colour: Chardonnay

Nose: It’s a pleasant and pristine modern Islay profile, all on wet rocks, mineral, glycerol green peat, ashes, brine, sea air and touches of coal tar soap. Actually this one really reminds me more of a Caol Ila than a Lagavulin. That super clean, coastal, lemony and ashy profile is very in keeping with Caol Ilas of a similar age. Goes on with notes of wet grains, parma ham, salted peanuts and touches of seaweed. Very pleasant and super clean but, dare I say it, maybe just a little too boring.

Palate: It’s almost identical to the palate, like an ashtray full of lemon juice and pebbles. Some hints of antiseptic, mouthwash and eucalyptus with more of these typical coastal qualities like raw oysters, brine, sea water and bonfire smoke. It also becomes quite tarry with notes of creosote, kind of like licking a kreel net. A good, basic modern Islay whisky but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything particularly spectacular or noteworthy.

Finish: Long, drying and salty with a big fragrant smokiness.

Comments: Technically its pretty flawless but its just not very inspiring that’s the trouble. Oh well. Lets see if another six years of maturation will make a difference…

Score: 80/100

Lagavulin 20yo 1990. Syndicate. 48.1%. 70cl.

Colour: Gold

Nose: Much better, the peat is more defined, like chiseled leather (whatever that means) with a fatter, oilier quality to it. Still not very ‘Lagavulinesque’ but it certainly has a fair whack of character to it. Notes of smoked tea, minerals, hints of sea shore, wild flowers, mustard seed and something quite minty and herbal, like a throat sweet liqueur. With time notes of paprika, chili infused dark chocolate and turkish delight all start to emerge. This minty/coastal quality still persists very beautifully. With water it seems to revert back to a very similar profile to the 14yo, all on lemons, ashes and salt.

Palate: Oh dear, that’s a bit odd. Quite an astringent and vinous delivery at first, almost like its been is some really odd red wine cask. Notes of green wood, ground pepper, tar, goats cheese, smoked paprika, turmeric and touches of cardboard. This is really weird. Maybe some water is needed… nope. Water makes it cheesier, dryer and stranger with notes of boiled ham, sour mead and cod liver oil. This is so strange and becoming increasingly unpleasant.

Finsih: Quite long and actually improving, becoming greener again and cleaner with a nice oily peat and citrus quality.

Comments: This is a barmy whisky. Such a shame about the palate because the nose was initially very beautiful. I just can get over the odd texture and astringency of the palate, not to mention that weird cheesy note. Oh well… just goes to show that even giants of consistency like Lagavulin can’t be great every time.

Score: 68/100

The next couple should fair better (lets hope so)

Lagavulin 15yo 1979. Synidicate. 58.2%. 70cl. 

Colour: Straw

Nose: Now we’re a world apart. A blistering white hot desert of peat, ground pepper, cider vinegar, antiseptic, coal dust, lime zest and then lashings of pink grapefruit, gooseberries and finally touches of lychee and white chocolate. While the 1990s were both more akin to Caol Ila, this reminds me of some early 1970s high strength Port Ellens by G&M. It’s still quite approachable and alluring at full strength though with some spectacular notes of fresh mint toothpaste, frying bacon, clove rock and lemon oil. With water: now it just seems to become spectacularly farmy, oily and slightly industrial with notes of petrol, motor oil and WD40. It also becomes much more organic and herbal with notes of sorrel, fresh rosemary and aniseed liqueur. A truly compelling nose.

Palate: The farmyard and seashore battle it out immediately but the strength in no way overpowers anything. This is really reminiscent of the 30yo version I tasted on Islay back in May except being half the age it is double the intensity. Huge notes of smoked and green teas with preserved lemons, wax, salt, honeycomb, green fruits, more salivating grapefruit acidity and white pepper. Brilliant, slightly old style Islay peat water. Speaking of water… spectacular again, liquid smoke, mint choc chip ice cream, freshly baled hay, dried cereals, pear liqueur, old riesling and something like Castrol GTX motor oil (yes that specific brand, they’re all different you know!)

Finish: Super long, pristine, coastal and decked in minerals and lemon juice. Fat, oily and wonderful.

Comments: What a difference 11 years can make in terms of distillery character. This reminds me of the best, Diageo produced 1970s peated Islay malts, the greatest Caol Ilas, Port Ellens and Lagavulins all share something of this blistering white peat character. Glorious whisky.

Score: 93/100

Lets see if 59.2% can match it…

Lagavulin 15yo 1979. Syndicate. 59.2%. 70cl. 

Colour: Straw (identical to the one above really)

Nose: This one is a little softer and maybe a bit more ‘classical’ but it certainly from the same family as the 58.2 with these plush notes of grapefruit, cider and gooseberries. All kinds of sharp and sour fruit notes with a hyper clean coastal edge and bags of chocolate limes, dried herbs, smoky bacon and background hints of fish and chips. These touches of white chocolate appear again but they are quickly overtaken by these big fishy notes of peppered and smoked mackerel, various fresh shellfish and minerals. It’s almost like a sea salt liqueur. With water: whereas the other one turned into some kind of psychotic farmyard with water this one seems content to explode with mint, smoked sausage, green peppercorns in brine and some wonderfully fatty notes of cured meat and frying bacon.

Palate: A big pile of white pepper, green peats, minerals, menthol chewing gum, ashtrays, antiseptic, herbal toothpaste, mouthwash and salt. Again, this is more typical than the 58.2 version but it is almost flawlessly constructed with bags of big personality to offer. Goes on with notes of bay leaves, a soft spiciness, camphor and treacle. With water: still a bulldozer with this massive arid saltiness and fug of sinewy phenols and green peat but otherwise it is quite straight forward and not quite as complex or beguiling as the 58.2 version.

Finish: My tongue feels like its coated in tar and salt so I’ll just write: long!

Comments: I prefer the 58.2% version but not by much, this is still a fantastic old Islay whisky. If you get the chance both these olf 15yo bottlings are well worth trying in my book.

Score: 91/100

After a long run of nothing but tastings on the blog I feel increasingly inclined to return to my roots a little more. Maybe it’s something to do with it being a new year, who knows? I think nothing but tastings and reviews can become a little dry over time and it’s always nice to mix things up a bit. I haven’t written about film for a quite some time on these pages. In fact I haven’t given ‘film’ in its own right the attention it deserves, or that I have always felt compelled to bestow upon it, in my day to day life this past year. I was busy being in other places, then I was busy thinking constantly about whisky from the moment I returned (when am I not though), and then there were the inevitable distractions provided by music and all the people, instruments, gigs and sessions that come lashed to and spinning with it. So I have neglected my other great passion in life this past year, that of cinema going, film gorging and general celluloidial ravagings. I didn’t see nearly as many films as I would have liked and I missed many that I wanted to see, I’m still catching up quite a bit. There are a number that I did see that I found particularly profound and brilliant and these are the ones I feel compelled to write about in the coming days/weeks. One of the best films I saw was at a cinema in New York. It was a modern cinema, the kind that feels more like a sweet shop that just happens to show films. An old building that stands vacant and sad in the noise of the city, its innards and soul lobotomised by merchandise and hollowed by the spoons of profit margins. But a cinema nonetheless, one that still had the decency to switch out its lights and play a film with the correct focus and an audio track pitched in sensitive synchronisation with the picture. The film I saw was The Guard.

The Guard was directed by John Michael McDonagh, the brother of Martin McDonagh the man behind the equally great film In Bruges. Fittingly the films themselves feel like siblings in many ways. The spirals of philosophy, ruminations on human nature and wide open endings all lurking beneath a blackly comedic veneer are cornerstones of both films. As is Brendan Gleeson, a man with a face like the inside of a kettle and the ability to automatically improve any film by 22% simply by being in it. He’s a man we’re more accustomed to seeing in supporting roles, flexing is characterful jowls and munching down huge chunks of scenery while pasty famous people flounder attempting to wrench whole scenes back from his loot sack. So it is a rare treat to see him carrying a film here, and carry is no understatement. The film is brimming with fantastic actors giving brilliantly nuanced turns, Don Cheadle, Liam Cunningham, Mark Strong, David Wilmot and Fionnula Flanagan all deserve special mention here. But it is Gleeson’s film entirely, he moves through it with a majestic and glorious waddle, creating in his wake a character of extremes, wit, nuance, charm and complexity. He plays Sergeant Gerry Doyle, a police officer who’s chief concerns are, in no particular order, laziness, prostitutes, harvesting drugs from deceased boy racers, healthy disregard for rules and regulations and casual racism. The film hinges around his dealings with an FBI agent (Cheadle) who arrives in town to investigate drug trafficking, and their subsequent investigation. The plot is almost an excuse around which to hang the characters and their various virtues and vices, each of them offering a window or a mirror into a different corner of humanity.

Brendan Gleeson as Gerry Boyle in The Guard

The greatness of the film lies in the unknowable gaps between performance and moment, those hidden niches of the film where it somehow becomes even greater than the sum of its parts. I saw it in a room full of happy, popcorn chugging Americans in the heat of a New York summer evening. I’ve never been to Ireland but the common ground between the characters of Irish and Scottish people and their landscapes made me a little thirsty for home. But perhaps the film’s greatest power is its most simple and obvious one, it is achingly funny. It treads a fine line between crudity, wit and character driven comedy that is wonderful enough but, best of all, it doesn’t pander to an audience, it has a great awareness of where audiences are these days in terms of humour. The film lays out a smorgasbord of political in-correctness and instead of shying away from the obvious race jokes, swearing and lunacy, it embraces them. It’s the extreme teasing kind of humour shared between friends comfortable enough to call each other the foulest names under the sun and relish every exchange. It’s a rare film that manages to avoid all the pitfalls of crassness in these kinds of humour and retain its deeper streak of nobility, warmth and genuine connection with its spectators. At least that’s what I imagine happened in European cinemas, the American audience I shared it with gasped at the mention of the word cunt.

I normally find a whisky to match the film or song I’m nattering about in these kinds of posts. In the case of The Guard I’d much rather pick an Irish whiskey, the film really does have a strong Irish identity and I’d like to doth my dram to that but sadly I have zero examples of Irish distilling to hand. So we’ll just have a completely unconnected and pointless tasting instead with a sample that landed on my desk this morning, one that I’ve been quite excited about now for some time…. a new dark sherried Caol Ila. Islay is pretty close to Ireland right…?

Thanks to Hasse for the sample and Magnus for providing such an easily stealable photo on facetube.

Caol Ila 2000-2011. G&M Exclusive for Magnus Fagerstrom & Slainte. Fresh sherry hogshead. 302 bottles. 57.9%. 70cl.

A big thankyou to Hasse for sending me this sample.

Colour: Indian Rosewood

Nose: Sharp at first and full of smoky bacon, puy lentils, tcp, bandages, buckets of hot tar, menthol, toothpaste, hints of molasses, demerara and muscovado sugars and brown bread. Quite a powerhouse of a nose and very far from shy, an extroverted Caol Ila. Develops these wonderful notes of crushed mint leaf, mint julep and mojito (not that I’d say this was ideal mixing whisky). The alcohol softens quite nicely after a little time and more of these smoky bacon, meaty sherry notes come through with hints of green peppercorns in brine, medicine, fish nets, motor oil and quite a modern sherry quality. That’s not to say the sherry is dirty, it has more of this very modern, thick meaty character to it. Quite dense, sinewy, earthy and robust with notes of struck flints and fruit resin (what?). Lets try with water… with water it becomes much more elegant with a surprisingly complex medicinal structure and a richer earthy quality. A little more classical maybe, the peat and the sherry really are perfectly integrated now.

Palate: Neat it is no less big than on the nose. Initially a big sweet peatiness comes through with more sea salt, smoked bacon, fried pancetta, aspirin, turmeric, hessian, concentrated peat oils, damp sackcloth, glazed cherries, cocoa and cola cubes. The sweetness is quite fascinating, it’s almost greasy in its manifestation with a few more slightly dirty/earthy qualities coming through now. Notes of beef jerky, erasers, pencil lead and cannabis. With water: now there is more earthy, leathery, meaty qualities, it becomes much drier and these notes of salt are still pronounced but joined in droves by mineral notes, lemon juice, camphor, mixed spices, liquorice, touches of lavender and wood smoke. There is a prevailing dirtiness in the background that is a borderline hindrance for me.

Finish: Long, drying, salty and full of earthy, herbaceous, chocoaltey sherry and some green chewy peats.

Comments: Not as great as I was hoping from the darkness of the colour but this is still an excellent whisky with a great integration between distillate and cask, or peat and sherry to be more blunt about it. Sherried Caol Ilas are bloody hard to find and can be spectacular (James MacArthur London Scottish anyone?) this is not up to those standards but it is a great dram and if you’re in the mood for something big and flavoursome then you could do a lot worse than this beast. I think two or three more years in cask would probably have propelled it past 90. If G&M still have any of these sherry hoggies maybe they could sit on a few of them for a while and trckle them out from 15 onwards? I know I know, just an idea.

Score: 87/100

Well that wasn’t particularly suited to the film I suspect but it was a great dram and as such would probably go fine with The Guard if you happen to be out of Redbreast. Not that matching whiskies to films should be taken too seriously mind you. I’ll let you into a little secret, don’t tell anyone this by the way, we’ll keep it just between ourselves, but the thing is, this whole matching whiskies to films or songs business, well, it’s just a bit of silly fun really. I know, shocking right? Remember not to tell anyone, I don’t want to loose street cred now.