When first poured, the scent of the Springbank 12-Year-Old Burgundy reminds me of the last years limited release 12-Year-Old Port Pipe. But this relatively minor similarity fades as the whisky breathes, thankfully. (Im sorry to say that I was not a big fan of the Port Pipe.) I also catch tantalizing hints of golden raisin on the nose of this whisky, in addition to agave nectar, lingonberry, red clover floret, new leather, wet limestone, and the dungeonesque presence of dunnage warehouses (which I really enjoy in all of the 12-Year-Old Cask Strength Springers). Water brings out Nilla Wafers, while also heightening the wood presence, which is quite unusual for a whisky. If it wasnt so damned good, I might call the counter-intuitive result bass-ackwards.
The flavor of the 12-Year-Old Burgundy differs dramatically from the 12-Year-Old Port Pipe. Oh. My. Gawd. This rather unassuming bottle, aside from its gold lettering, is a Babe Ruth-style home run. Now I know why a good friend of mine said the 12-Year-Old Burgundy is f-ing good as he was driving us to a whisky tasting in Northeast Portland last Tuesday evening. A polished banking type, he rarely ever drops the f-bomb, but he did not hesitate to do so when summing up this whisky. I wholeheartedly agree with the sentiment. Without water, it is absolutely HUGE, and yet still immanently quaffable. Right off the bat, it exudes well-worn leather, cream-drizzled crepes, milk chocolate . . . all with a buttery-rich mouthfeel. In a handful of other reviews of the Burgundy, critics mention herbs rather vaguely when describing the palate. I tried my best to figure out which herbs, but I could not pin them down, aside from paprika that comes from oak resin in the casks. The rest of these so-called herbs bring to mind a few well known digestive bitter liqueurs with a menagerie of proprietary herbal combinations that are rarely divulged on a label, or a websiteand for good reason. Drinking an ancient potion is supposed to be somewhat mysterious. For those drinkers who do not relish tastes akin to an alcoholic bitter on the death, there is good news: in time, the influence tends to dissipate somewhat, leaving sweet flavors to reign supreme. Fifteen or twenty minutes in the glass is long enough. One of my favorite aspects of the 12-Year-Old Burgundys finish concerns a lip-smacking note of vanilla ice cream, which is followed by echoes of peppermint and American pralines. I can only assume that, as the whisky in my bottle oxidizes after being opened for a few months, and the level goes down, some of the bitter notes will fade. In the meantime, I will embrace the bitter side of love at first taste, as I feel it does provide a welcome balance to sweet nothings. Final Thoughts Even at a whopping 53.5%, I prefer the Springbank 12-Year-Old Burgundy without water. Call me an Ugly American. I know, I know . . . drinking a cask strength whisky neat is enough to make Ralfy Mitchell cringe, over in his Manx bothy on the Isle of Man. Still, I think the fact that I enjoy this particular dram without water is a testament to its craftsmanship, and also to its delicate nature for a cask strength offering. Lastly, its worth noting that a Burgundy influence is not prominent in the glass. I really do appreciate the fact that wine casks take the backseat gracefully here without a need to show off their grapiness. And this coming from a guy who absolutely loves the wine presence in Longrow Pinot 12-Year-Old, which is front and center. Sometimes being a show-off isnt such a bad thing. In the case of Springbank 12-Year-Old Burgundy, however, I prefer my wine influence in the backseat of the elixirs vehicle, so to speak. Chauffeur, pour me another round, and take your time driving . . . to a place called Campbeltown . . . where, even today, whisky-making has remained perfectly old-fashioned, like a Daimler Limousine DS420. Rating: 92.5
