My Final Barrel Experiment, Part II: The Maturation, The Numbers, The Result

(Monday, Part 1, link)

Part 2 of 4

I had the best greedy intentions.  By wrapping the barrel tightly, I wasn't gradually spilling my whisky into the air.  But I really didn't know how this would affect the actual maturation of the whisky inside.  Since there was less being lost, I hoped that would mean the aging process would be more gradual.  Small barrels, especially very small barrels, age whisky differently than large ones.  They can often result in a product that is somehow both much too young and much too oaky, a problem experienced by some American craft whiskey makers and even some Scotch producers who are trying to speed up the maturation process.  If I wrapped mine, then maybe things would go a little slower with less spirit-oak-oxygen interaction.

I really didn't know what would happen.

---

On Day 0, I estimated the blend to be 47% malt, peating level around 6ppm, and with a 44.6% ABV.

FIRST CHECKPOINT - 4 weeks
Measurement only.  Success!  0.96% lost to the angels (0.0343%/day).  An 89.5% reduction in the rate of volume lost to evaporation when compared to The Eagle Morning.  90.2% reduction in loss compared to Rye Storm.

SECOND CHECKPOINT - 8 weeks
Measurement: 2.24% lost to the angels (0.0401%/day).  That's a 89.3% reduction of the rate lost compared to Eagle Morning, 87.7% compared to Rye Storm.  I was actually going to keep my whisky!  But...

It tasted exactly the same as it had 8 weeks earlier.  None of the blended elements had integrated.  They were all floating around as separate parts.  On the bright side, there was very little oak present.  Though I had originally estimated 8 weeks as being my bottling point, this biscuit had barely begun baking.

THIRD CHECKPOINT - 12 weeks
Measurement only.  2.99% of liquid lost (0.0356%/day).  When I had re-wrapped it after the second checkpoint I likely sealed it more thoroughly, as evaporation had slowed further in the four weeks since.

FOURTH CHECKPOINT - 16 weeks
Before unwrapping, I decided that this might need to be the cutoff point for maturation.  I had no idea how long was too long.  Then I cut off the wrapping and found the following:

The metal was being corroded and oxidized.  The whisky, unable to escape into the heavens, had been eating the barrel.  Yeah, it was time to empty it.

Measurement: 3.846% lost to the angels (back to 0.0343% per day).
In its final days, The Eagle Morning was losing 0.5% of its volume each day; Rye Storm was losing over 0.7% daily at its end.  Comparatively, this new blend was losing 0.028% per day during the last four weeks.  The angels drank The Rye Storm 25 times faster than this new blend.

Then, the tasting notes:
Color -- Medium gold
Nose -- Very nice and malty. A light dusting of cinnamon and peat smoke. Some gooey sugary stuff and talcum powder.
Palate -- Instantly astringent. Wood resins, green and bitter like chewing on a new branch.  A box of pencils: wood, lead, cardboard, yellow paint, and all.  Maybe a flat plastic shopping bag laying on the side of the road?  Difficult to find the whisky part.
Finish -- Sugar coated pencils. Very bitter.

So, statistically, this was a runaway success.

But it tasted poorly......which broke my whisky heart, because the blend actually smelled very good with the rum, oak, and whiskies pleasantly intermingling.  But whisky is for drinking and my whisky was not for drinking.

At some point in the maturation, without interaction with the air, the whisky dug deeper and deeper into the oak, past the charred surface, soaking up the bitter resinous plant material beneath, leeching the xylem and phloem.  And it couldn't breathe, so those compounds carried back into the barrel.

Something had been lost by wrapping up the barrel.  As mentioned above, at the 8-week point nothing had yet occurred in the palate and nose.  It smelled and tasted like all of the separate parts were still separate, as if it had just been sitting in a bottle for a couple days.  While it's true that char may have been largely exhausted by this point, I can't help but think that the angels' share exists for a reason.  They take but they also give.  Oxidation had been suffocated, maturation had been corrupted.

So now I was left with tainted goods.  Disappointed, I considered dumping it all down the sink.

But then an idea took root.  All was not lost.

Tomorrow, The Firebird and The Heron...

My Final Barrel Experiment, Part I: The Whisky, The Rum, The Plan

Part 1 of 4

The plan was complex in its simplicity: Create a high-malt peated rum-finished blended whisky.  Sounds fun, right?  It would be a big ol' batch of something fun to drink, at a lower expense than my previous experiments.

The first whisk(e)y thing that I had aged in my 2 liter barrel was The Rye Storm.

Too young to call a straight rye, and possibly too toxic to share, The Rye Storm was invaluable as an educational experience.  It also seasoned the hell out of the barrel, which led to...

...Whisky Two, The Eagle Morning Single Malt, a Highland single malt finished in my small ex-rye barrel.  Much more successful than The Rye Storm, The Eagle Morning was actually drinkable and utilizable during last year's hot weather spell in November.

After emptying the barrel of The Eagle Morning, I gave the barrel a good washout and then filled it with water to keep the insides moist.  The next whisky-thing had to be cheaper than the previous two, and very different.  I started considering a multi-step maturation, or at least a re-seasoning.

Around that time, I tried the Angel's Envy rum-finished rye.  It was like rye candy, too sweet for me, but intriguing nonetheless.  Replicating it seemed very easy to screw up.  For moment I considered a rum-finished Rittenhouse, but then I concluded I didn't want to directly copy anything.

With rum on the mind, I realized that I had enjoyed every rum-finished whisky I'd tried.  Though perhaps not mindblowing, they were always fun to drink.  And I'm always on the search for an inexpensive peated Scotch.  I had considered using either Bowmore Legend and McClelland's Islay, but Morrison Bowmore's young Bowmores can be questionable at best.

Standing in Total Wine & More, I stared at the shelves until it (figuratively) hit me.  Bank Note.  I like Bank Note.  I've had two good bottles and one not good bottle.  And the problems with that bad bottle were likely due to storage issues rather than the stuff itself.  It's lightly peated, a 40% malt blend, and is bottled at 43% ABV.  And I could get a handle (1.75L) of it for $36.99.

There would still be 250mL of whisky room left in the cask, and I needed more peat.  Luckily I had three heavily-peated cask strength single malts to fill out the rest of the room, raising the ppms and ABV a little bit.  But first, the rum!

I had a mostly full bottle of the very sweet and silky Ron Matusalem 15 year old.  Unlike aged whisky, aged rum is often very affordable; this 15yo had been only $19.99.  Though it filled less than 1/3 of the barrel, its brown sugariness would be just enough to season the staves.  I rotated the barrel every other day for three weeks.  At the end of the three weeks, I decanted it back into its original bottle.   While the barrel was still very wet and oozed candied scents, I first filled it with the Bank Note, then with my secret combo of peated single malts.

But wait, that's not all.

Several months had been spent maturing my previous two whiskies and there was one thing that became painfully obvious with each week's measurements......the angels take their share.  I had lost an outrageous amount of product to those drunkass angels, no matter what the storage location or temperature had been.  I wanted a lot of whisky at the end of this extended maturation experiment.

So I wrapped it.

I tried the plastic and hair dryer technique but that didn't do a thing.  So instead I bundled it up tightly, Cling Wrap and lots of packing tape, maltblocking those damned angels.

Then it was time to wait.

Tomorrow, we do the numbers and we do the tasting......

Something Weird: Leviathan II American Peated Single Malt

I shall pluck the next peated American single malt from the Kravitz Cabinet of Curiosities...

...Presenting: The Tall Man!

First of all, I would like to thank my buddy Daniel for this bottle.  No matter what I say in this post, I really do appreciate this gift.  It has been an experience.

Lost Spirits Distillery was founded by Bryan Davis in Salinas, California, in 2009.  Using American barley, American and Canadian peat, and a steam-powered wooden still (which has recently been retired) his company has created about a half dozen unique whiskies (along with several other spirits).

But many of us blog readers know of Lost Spirits from Mr. Davis's direct feud with Sku's Recent Eats blog in 2012.  Picking a fight with a well-informed corner of the anorak populace probably isn't the best way for a small craft distiller to sell more bottles, but that was Mr. Davis's decision.  As someone who has tried to peddle unusual product in a difficult marketplace, I can understand the frustration that develops when the people you're trying to connect with reject what you're selling.  One thing I always try to remember is that in any form of production, from art to consumables, once the creation is released into the world the author's intent doesn't mean a damn thing.

With all of that in mind, let me get back to Leviathan II.  The barley is American.  The peat is from Alberta, Canada.  The barley is peated to a level of 110ppm (a little over Ardbeg Supernova's ppms).  But not all peat is the same, as it is formed from local vegetation.  Thus peat on Islay is different than peat on Orkney, which is different than Alberta peat.  According to Lost Spirits, the Alberta peat is "loaded with conifer and pine roots".  The American barley was smoke dried with this peat, then distilled in their former wooden pot still, and then aged in French oak casks that had previously held late harvest Semillon wine from Napa.

Did you get all that?  Here, I'll list it the way I usually do:

Distillery: Lost Spirits 
Brand: Leviathan
Type: Single Malt Whiskey
Region: Salinas, California, USA
Barley malt: American
Peat source: Alberta, Canada
Peating level: 110ppm
Maturation: ex-late harvest Semillon casks (French oak)
Age: "under four years"
Alcohol by Volume: 53%

My first pour from the bottle smelled like someone dropped napalm on a tennis court.  Everything was burned: shoes, tennis balls, the net, concrete, paint, and gasoline.  And it tasted the same.

I am a peat freak, and can take some serious peat abuse without complaint.  Octomore and Supernova are fun, not just because their peat levels are high, but because the flavors and scents are very complex and nuanced.  Meanwhile, at the top of the bottle, Leviathan II was a single slab of sensory violence.  And honestly, I had no interest in drinking any more of it.

(Quick aside -- To use another questionable comparison, I like hot sauce.  It's fun on the palate and I loves me some heat (well, my palate does but the rest of me doesn't).  But I've noticed that a lot of hot sauce producers just try to one up each other by climbing the Scoville scale.  As a result, a lot of their products taste terrible.  They bring the heat and that's it.  Creating and maintaining flavors is a difficult art.  I think we're at that stage with whisk(e)y that we can start to see that more peat doesn't necessarily equal more goodness.  There's so much more to the process that determines if the end result smells or tastes appealing, let alone great.  A lot of work went into the Octomores.  They're not just a whisky stunt, they're whisky.)

My Leviathan bottle sat 95% full.  Something had to be done.  Being someone who believes whisk(e)y changes considerably with air, I worked a couple more ounces down my trap until there was some space in the bottle.  In that space sat oxygen.  I let the bottle sit for a few days.  Then, I poured an ounce and let it air out for thirty minutes while I took notes on McCarthy's Oregon Single Malt.  I returned to the Leviathan II glass and here's the result:

NEAT
The color is gold.  On the nose there are lots of black raisins, burnt ones too.  Burnt plastic.  Un-burnt polyester, carpet, hot concrete, new shoelaces, and really rough eau de vie.  With more air, a singed orange peel note grows, followed by McDonald's honey (yep, that specific one).  With an hour of air, it smelled of wet cigars and wet cat litter.  The palate has an immense cinnamon red hots character.  Then burnt wheat toast, liquid smoke, and unaged rye spirit.  There's an ethyl heat, a spicy heat, burnt plastic, and sea salt.  Burnt honey in the finish, along with charred tuna, dried rosemary, and Swisher Sweets.

WITH WATER
The black raisins remain in the nose, joined by honey, rubber bands, and bile.  With more water, there's a note of, well, rubber raisins.  Cinnamon red hots still kickin' it in the palate.  Also sneakers (if I ate them), raisins, and toasty moss.  With more water, mossy red hots.  The finsh is mostly honey and raisins and char.  With more water, there's a floral note amongst rubber and moss.

Yes, the whole package improved.  But I'm not entirely sure for whom it is designed.  Is it for those hot sauce bros who just want to see who can crush the most ghost peppers?  Then why the sweet wine casks?  Even the Scottish haven't consistently mastered the sweet wine + peat combo and their experts have been at it for some time.

If you're going to do the Leviathan II and you're going to do it neatly, please please please air it out.  I'm not going to raise much of a stink about the whisky being too young.  It's definitely youthful and I think that's part of the point.  A lot more time in a sweet wine cask isn't necessarily going to make the whisky sexier.  It would just result in further imbalance between the cask and spirit.

I'm also not going to say that Lost Spirits should stop making this stuff, because it has a place in the market.  I think the challenge for Lost Spirits is that corner of the market has players like Balcones, Corsair, and Charbay already in it.  Those companies have a head start.  They have weird whiskies, bold whiskies, and weird bold whiskies.  Many of those products are very appealing and well sculpted.  There's real competition at the craft whiskey level.  Being small and crafty and original isn't enough anymore.

Leviathan II is indeed an experience that I'm sure many would be interested to try once.  But a 750mL bottle?  On a related note, I have a bunch of oxidized samples that I'd be happy to swap out.

Availability - About 10 to 12 specialty US retailers

Pricing - $50-$60

Rating - 69 (it rated in the mid 40s when first opened)

Single Malt Report: McCarthy's Oregon Single Malt

I've tried two peated American single malts recently, two whiskies whose characteristics couldn't possibly be any further apart.  In my opinion, one is successful, the other is not.

One half of me wonders if my palate has changed and that I'd have felt the opposite about them two years ago.  Another half of me thinks I would have never liked the second whisky, ever.  Another half of me was just happy to try them both at the same sitting.

Let's start with the one I liked:

I first tried McCarthy's at Peatin' Meetin' two years ago and was underwhelmed by it.  In hindsight, I'm pretty sure my palate had been blown out by bigger cask strength peated whiskies that day.  I wanted to give it another try, in a quieter controlled setting.  Last year, I gained a sample of McCarthy's from Jordan of Chemistry of the Cocktail in a sample swap.  And I'm glad I did.

McCarthy's is distilled at Clear Creek Distillery in Portland, Oregon.  Owner Steve McCarthy buys peated barley malt from the Port Ellen maltings on Islay and has it shipped to Oregon.  After it arrives, the malt is fermented by the Widmer Brothers Brewery.  The resulting wash is distilled only once in Clear Creek's Holstein pot still.  According to their site, the spirit spends some time in old sherry casks (though these casks may have been discontinued several years ago) as well as casks made from Oregon oak.  They age it for three years.  If you've ever tried to buy a bottle of McCarthy's you'll know why they don't age it any longer:  each batch sells out quickly.  For more details on their processes, please see Jordan's review or the Clear Creek site, both of which have a lot of good info.

I'm uncertain which batch this was from.  Jordan's review mentions that it may be somewhere between 2006 and 2008.  Many batches have been at 42.5% ABV, one was "cask strength" at 49% ABV.  This one was bottled at 40% ABV.

source

Distillery: Clear Creek Distillery
Brand: McCarthy's
Type: Single Malt Whiskey
Region: Portland, Oregon, USA
Malt source: Port Ellen maltings
Maturation: ex-sherry casks (though these may have been discontinued before this bottling was aged) and Oregon oak casks
Age: three years
Alcohol by Volume: 40%

NEAT
The color is gold.  The first thing I notice in the nose is the ocean.  Is it the Atlantic or Pacific?! Then bacon, well charred bacon. Then cinnamon, brown sugar, and kirsch.  The peat is rich, clean, and bright (if that makes any sense) as opposed to dirty or ashy. There's a nice vanilla bean note, maybe from the Oregon oak? Also some plum brandy (Slivovitz) to go with the kirsch. After being aired out for over 30 minutes, the whiskey releases a scent that reminds me of the white plastic siding on the house I grew up in (the Horseheads house for you insiders).  The palate is loaded with applewood smoked bacon.  The peat gets ashy here, though it gets brightened up by sweet mint.  Sweetness grows with time, but it is kept in check by an IPA-style bitterness.  More bacon in the finish.  The beer that goes with the palate's bitterness shows up here.  Then sugary cigar ash.  And -- to continue the personal notes -- the air on Inis Mór, the rocky Irish island I got lost on eleven years ago.

WITH WATER
Some fresh fruits (apricots and apples) peek out into the nose.  Lots of bourbon-like American oak notes too, caramel specifically.  Then candied peat, apple mint, and tangerines.  The palate gets sugary, toasty, and mossy.  Maybe a little bit of green herbs and yeast.  The finish is sweet and smoky.

I can't believe this is the same whisky I tried two years ago.  This further proves how different a whisky can be in separate settings.

It's been a while since I've experienced multiple sense memory connections with a single whisky.  Putting aside these emotional connections for a moment, I have no issue with this single malt's very young age.  While there are distillate characteristics in the nose, they work very well with the big ocean, bacon, and beer notes.  The sweetness stays mellow until water is added, the oak doesn't get too big, and the peat lingers at a medium level.  While I prefer it neat, water doesn't wreck it, which is impressive considering the low ABV.

But I cannot ignore those sense memories.  I realize that you won't have the same connections, but they draw me more deeply into the drinking experience.  Maybe you'll have your own.  Or maybe you'll see this as a decent alternative to the other (imported) whiskies created from the Port Ellen maltings.  In any case, McCarthy's shouldn't be dismissed by you peat fans.  If young Taliskers and Caol Ilas ever get out of your price range, maybe you should look to Oregon next.

Availability - Here's Clear Creek's list of stores that carry their products

Pricing - $45-$60

Rating - 87 (neat score only, and for this batch only)

Single Malt Report: Tobermory 10 year old (new label)

Today, it's the last of this week's Tobermory Trio.  Tuesday, it was a sherried 18 year old indie.  On Thursday, I looked at and (sadly) drank the previous version of the official 10 year old.  Today, it'll be the new edition of the 10 year old.

Just as a reminder here are the pics from yesterday's post:

The whisky I'm reviewing today is the one on the right.  I tasted the one on the left yesterday and found it to be disappointingly poor.  The one on the right is much different.

The updated edition of Tobermory 10 began retailing in Europe in 2010.  It came to The States in late 2011.  The old version was 40% ABV, colored, and probably chill filtered.  The new one is 46.3% ABV, and neither colored nor filtered.

I've had the pleasure of trying this new version on several occasions, but usually wasn't taking notes.  For the purposes of this review, my main notes are from the above Master of Malt sample.  But I also have some brief notes I took during a tasting led by brand rep Travis Tidwell, last November.

ALSO, as an extra bonus, this is the fifth of Five Fab Fridays of simultaneous reviews between Diving for Pearls and My Annoying Opinions.  I'll post the direct link to MAO's review of this new version of Tobermory 10yo once I wake up this morning.  And here's the link to his review.  It's a little different than mine...

TOBERMORY 10 YEAR OLD, current edition

Distillery: Tobermory
Brand: Tobermory (the distillery's unpeated malt)
Ownership: Burn Stewart Distillers
Age: minimum 10 years
Maturation: all ex-bourbon casks
Region: Isle of Mull
Alcohol by Volume: 46.3%

Colored? No

Chillfiltered? No

The color is plain ol' amber.  The nose is intensely herbal at first sniff, think anise and juniper.  There are lots of grasses, dead and alive.  Pungent burnt grapefruit peel, pine sap, mild hand soap, and something mossy (though this is their unpeated whisky).  It likes air, getting slightly fruitier (ripe lemons) and developing cream of wheat and mild cheddar notes.  After 45 minutes, it smells like the inside of a barn.  The palate is sweeter than the old version, but without being very sweet.  The old one's chemical bitter/burnt thing is replaced by a baking-chocolate-type of palatable bitterness.  The mystery moss note oddly but pleasantly continues along here.  Barley and yeast (worty?) meet cracked white peppercorns.  Subtle notes of vanilla, cinnamon, and sour apple.  It's mostly very grassy and spirit forward, which continues on into the finish.  Some pepper in the throat.  Vanilla pudding and oatmeal.

And here are my notes from the November 2013 tasting:
Nose - Spirity, cereal grains, anise, red delicious apple skins, nutmeg, baking apples, cut grass
Palate - Nice, grassy and grainy, those hot cereal notes, pepper.

Three things to note:

1.)  I included that second set of notes because this Tobermory can change quite a bit in the bottle (see Chemistry of the Cocktail's notes here, his bottle eventually came together nicely) and can also differ quite a bit from batch to batch.  My buddy Florin (I think it was him!) noted, quite accurately, a "sour garbage" character at the top of his bottle but then things got much better as the liquid made its way to the bottom of the bottle.  Speaking of variation...

2.)  Peat.  I was a little weirded out by the distinct peat moss notes I got in the Master of Malt sample.  It wasn't Ledaig-level peaty but it was unmistakable, and unique to all my previous Tobe 10 tastings.  As soon as my Taste Off was over, I went online to gauge my nuttiness.  Thankfully, Senior Sergio Valentino had found peat notes in both of his Tobermory reviews.  So it's good to know, as crazy loves company.  Could it be that Tobermory's stills sometimes carry some peat residue from previous Ledaig distillations?  Many of Caol Ila's "Unpeated" releases are noticeably peated, but they have quotation marks on their labels.  I don't think Tobermory has any quotes around its unpeated designation.

3.)  Peat or no peat, this is more than just a step up from the old version.  The two are barely related.  Could this change be as simple as removing the colorant, avoiding filtration, and adding less water?  Or did the company institute better barrel management?  Or did I just get a crappy mini of the old edition?  I don't think Tobermory whisky is as much of an acquired taste as the reputation that precedes it.  It is undoubtedly quirky, but accessible if you like herbal, grassy, barley-forward malts.

Don't fear the Tobe.

Availability - Most liquor specialty retailers

Pricing - probably in the $40-$60 range

Rating - 85 (current edition only!)

Single Malt Report: Tobermory 10 year old (old label)

On Tuesday, I reviewed a sherried independent bottling of Tobermory.  Today and tomorrow, I'm going to take a look at two versions of the main bottling of Tobermory's official range: the 10 year old.

Both of the whiskies above are Tobermory 10s, but from different periods.  The one on the left was bottled at 40% ABV, held caramel colorant, was very likely chill filtered, and was available from approximately 2002 to 2011.  The one on the right is the newer version of the 10 year old.  It became available in Europe in 2010, then in the US in late 2011.  That one is bottled at a stronger 46.3% ABV, is neither colored nor chill filtered.

Here's another look at these same two whiskies:

Their colors look a little different, don't they?  Tomorrow, I'll write about the one on the right.  Today, I'll be talking about the whisky on the left.  The Tobermory 10 year old "Old Label".

Distillery: Tobermory
Brand: Tobermory (the distillery's unpeated malt)
Ownership: Burn Stewart Distillers
Age: minimum 10 years
Maturation: probably ex-bourbon casks
Region: Isle of Mull
Alcohol by Volume: 40%

Bottled: March 2011

Colored? Yep

Chillfiltered? Probably

As you can see in this post's very first picture, I had a 50mL mini of this older version.  During one of my visits to see family in Arizona, I spotted a flock of these minis at a corner liquor store.  When I bought one, the man at the register asked, "Are you sure don't want any more?" with a noticeable level of desperation.  These bottles had been sitting on the shelf for at least two years, and almost no one wants to spend money on old weird Tobe.  The next time I went to Arizona, I considered just buying the rest.  But I didn't...

NEAT

The color is a brownish gold.  A little brown-er and less gold-ish than than whisky usually gets on its own.  The nose is very quiet, almost like a cheap blend.  It takes some time to wake up and even then some clear nasal passages are required.  First, apple skins.  Then floral soap, caramel, and burned oats.  With more air, the soap recedes, replaced by milky oat flakes and corn flakes.  Then cardboard and maybe peach juice.  The palate is very grainy, like a bottom shelf blend (Lauder's minus the vodka notes). But it's also very bitter with an strong odd burnt note.  I know there are two schools of thought regarding if industrial caramel colorant can actually be tasted -- it can or it cannot -- but I'm wondering if the chemically bitter burnt thing is e150a, because it doesn't taste like a naturally derived flavor.  Beyond that, there's some uncooked rice and hair (also uncooked).  That bitterness carries over into the finish.  Also some more burnt stuff with dusty caramel and notebook paper.

I wasn't going to add water to this since it was already so thin, but then I did so anyway to see if the whisky could be saved.

WITH WATER

The apple note grows in the nose.  But so does something that's reminiscent of rotting meat.  That note isn't large, but it's there.  Above it is cilantro, cinnamon, caramel, and cheap perfume.  And there's the vodka note that was missing in the neat palate.  No vodka in the watered down palate, though.  The good news is that the bitterness has lessened.  But the only other element I can detect is uncooked oats with fake maple flavoring (Quaker's Instant?).  The finish holds only one flavor: Kaliber, Guinness's ghastly non-alcohol beer.

The good news?  Three things:  1.) The nose was almost fun when neat.  2.) The palate wasn't horrible with added water.  It was plain and easy to sip.  3.) I felt no guilt dumping 20mL down the sink.

The rest is bad news.

As a Tobermory fan, I was very disappointed.  I had thought this edition of Tobe was disliked because of weird cereal, grassy, yeasty things -- and was actually looking forward to that experience.  But the reality is that this is $9.99 bottom shelf blend material.  On its LAWS page, they show it has having been $31 back in 2008.  That's unfortunate.

The LAWS dudes give it a C.  Serge gives it a 70.  Averaging out the two sets of old 10yo scores on Whiskybase, the public gives it a 74.11.  They're all being a little more generous than I.

Keep in mind, all of this is regarding the older version of Tobermory 10.  Had this version been a hit, Burn Stewart Distillers wouldn't have made some drastic changes to the brand.  But they did and for the better.  More on that tomorrow.

TOBERMORY 10 YEAR OLD (older label)

Availability - It's still around in lesser-visited liquor stores, but its space on the shelf is mostly filled with the new version

Pricing - probably in the $40-$60 range

Rating - 67

Single Malt Report: Tobermory 18 year old 1995 Anam na h-Alba

The first of this week's Tobermory Trio...

It's an 18 year old independent release of Tobermory distillery's unpeated malt.  It spent most of its life in an ex-bourbon hogshead, then got a fresh finish in an Oloroso sherry cask.  It's the first sherried independent Tobermory I've tried.

Tobermory's whisky can be a bit difficult.  Some might say gross.  But I like it.  It has a very distinct grassy, hot cereal character.  People who are not fans often find it to be a bit butyric, using descriptors like "baby vomit".  If a little person barfs up milk and/or oatmeal, I guess I can see where that thought comes from; but maybe we should all take a deep sniff of some hot cereal pre-barf and file that away in our sense memory.  Hopefully I'll have some examples in my notes this week.

Anam na h-Alba is an independent German bottler whom I had never heard of until this month.  Serge Valentin has reviewed a total of one of their bottlings.  Perhaps by the end of the year, I will have reviewed twice as many as he.  So there!  Their name means "Soul of Scotland" (I think) and their online website has some very good prices.....and is also entirely in German, so "viel glück"!

Thank you, Saint Cobo, for this sample!

source

Distillery: Tobermory

Independent Bottler: Anam na h-Alba

Age: 18 years (June 1995 - August 2013)

Maturation: ex-bourbon hogshead, then finished in an ex-oloroso sherry cask

Region: Isle of Mull
Bottles: 85 (possibly a shared cask?)

Alcohol by Volume: 55%
Colored? No
Chill filtered? No

The color is a reddish gold.  The nose leads with cocoa and prunes from the sherry.  But there's also quite a bit of barley in there.  Also hay, a hint of yeast, and hot cereal (farina and oatmeal).  There's a slight salty and savory thing going on like a mild cheese.  The palate is quiet for a half second, then the sherry blows in, expanding and expanding and expanding, carrying with it sweet grapes, sweet cherries, orange peel, and milky coffee.  No heat to speak of, which is notable considering the ABV.  Sweet dried fruits from the sherry bloom open up in the finish.  It's very sugary.  Prune juice, pineapple juice, and maybe some ginger.

This is a curious one, as many Tobermory are.  In this case, it's the casks that of interest.  The non-sherried part of the nose feels MUCH younger than 18 years, but then the sherry part is rich like an older cask.  The label doesn't specify how long the "finish" was, but here's my theory: The first cask, the hoggie, must have been very sleepy, so to spruce things up someone pouring the whisky into a very very wet sherry cask.  Thus the dichotomy between young malt notes and intense sherry ones.

I'm not the biggest fan of sherry finishes, though the sweetness of this one was entertaining.  It gave the spirit some room to express itself in the nose, then silenced it in the ever-expanding sherry burst in the mouth.  As a result, it sometimes feels like two separate whiskies.  (Though I do like it better than the official 15 year old.)

This is a dessert whisky, as it can be PX-sherry-level sweet.  I would have preferred some of the nearly nude whisky in the palate, but sherry fans won't have much to complain about.  Those same fans would have plenty to complain about in the next two whiskies in the trio.

Availability - Possibly sold out

Pricing - was only 59euro?!

Rating - 83 (though sweet sherry fans will probably adore it)