Geographically speaking, the region for Lowland single malt Scotch whiskies is the second largest in Scotland, with the Highlands being the largest. An old Roman line of demarcation called “Hadrian’s Wall” officially divides the two regions from each other. I just love that fact. The wall is quite dramatic to behold, as is the difference between Highland and Lowland whiskies.
Only four Lowland distilleries currently are still in production making whisky, and of these Auchentoshan is the second largest, making about 1,800,000 litres. Another favorite of mine, Bladnoch, which happens to be the smallest Lowland distillery, has made some fantastic old whiskies in the past that I snagged for posterity, and which I really enjoyed.
For me, the single cask Auchentoshans are what tend to catch my attention, and the same goes for Bladnochs. In fact, I might as well confess that I have a love/hate relationship with Lowland Scotches. In theory, I always want to love them, but core releases have tended to let me down over the past five years.
The single Auchentoshan 32-Year-Old Oloroso cask from 1979, currently under discussion, met with lavish praise from most other reviewers. Having just tasted the Highland Park 40 Year Old (core offering) before this, however, I must report that, so far at least, the 1979 Auchentoshan sitting on my desk is not blowing me away . . . yet.
Nobody in his right mind would insist that all of the charming idiosyncrasies have been purified out of this triple distilled beaut of a dram. It’s a wee bit fiery and feisty, in a good way. At any rate, let’s move on to the tasting section of my review, and see what happens.
Tasting Notes: Auchentoshan 1979 (32-Year-Old)
Vital Stats: 50.5% ABV; aged 32 years in a single Oloroso cask.
Appearance: Antique Mahogany with flaming accents of gold.
Nose: Fruits and spices rise to power; the first-fill Oloroso sherry butt works its magic by delivering figs, licorice, golden raisins, walnut liqueur, and beeswax. Now, the old wood raises its head a bit defiantly to offer white pepper, Honduran cigar wrapper, and cedar. That time-worn cliche of Christmas cake cannot be denied . . . and, yes, there’s dried mint leaf, as well.
Trending Stories
Palate: At first taste, the mouth feel seems fairly creamy. Mild heat works its magic upon the roof of the mouth and throat. Thirty two years passed in a decadent sherry cask means that the angels have taken their share, leaving behind a rather complex array of tastes. Time’s winged chariot delivers all manner of sweetmeats–from gooey aged persimmon to figs to marzipan to medjool dates.
There’s also a cinnamon bark note. It passes over the tongue, and then is absorbed upwards, into the sensitive oral tissues, with a kind of substantial woodiness, offering more than is typically meant when the word “cinnamon” is used in a whisky review. On the back end of the palate, Anaheim chilies and salted caramel duke it out, like two playful imps, within the amniotic flames of one hundred proof fire-water.
Finish: Quite long on the tongue, this finish is a bit labored due to some heat in the spirit, as can be expected at cask strength. This said, it only has two percent more ABV, but its burn is more noticeable than the comparatively mild Highland Park 40-Year-Old. One is left with minty oak, some dried fruits, and burning cigarette tobacco . . . along with a haunting impression of menthol on the death, which lingers beyond all else, almost as if one finished smoking a menthol cigarette about a quarter of an hour earlier.
Alcohol heat serves as an accomplice to give the false impression of tar left on the tongue from vanished smoke. I must confess that I’m not terribly enchanted by the “mentholated” death of this whisky. It will cost my rating a few points, unfortunately.
Water brings out more beeswax, as well as sugar pine wood in the nose, which is interesting. It also changes the finish fairly dramatically, reducing that rather stark menthol flavor at the death. Regrettably, it also sacrifices many of the best qualities on the palate, at least for me.
Final Thoughts
Triple distilled whiskies, when good, can be really good, but they can also be lackluster. This rather involved form of distillation (no time to explain it here) has always been common to Lowland whiskies. It was quite popular back in the mid-19th Century, when practically every town in the Lowlands region of Scotland had at least one distillery.
Today, Springbank distillery from Campbeltown offers a triple distilled line of whisky called “Hazelburn.” One can thus compare Hazelburn to other Springbank whiskies that have not been triple distilled. This offers a rare opportunity. Discerning critics can decide for themselves if they like the effects of triple distillation, at least in the case of Springbank whiskies, which have the same distillery character in common with each other.
My verdict has been that I don’t generally like the effects of triple distillation. Some of the charming idiosyncracies can get purified right out of the final product, leaving less bawdy character to enjoy. For me, this difference was especially apparent in the Rundlets and Kilderkins series, which served to illustrate how distillation can affect the way a whisky interacts with wood in the casks.
As I’ve said, when triple distilled whiskies shine, they can be quite illuminating to smell and taste. Of the mothballed distilleries in the Lowland region of Scotland, Ladyburns, Rosebanks and Littlemills can sometimes be downright phenomenal. However, it’s worth adding a caveat: these days, the good ones cost a pretty penny. Because my wallet is not as fat as many collectors’, I’ve tended to keep my eyes peeled for low profile IB releases from the likes of Berrys’, Gordons & Co., Blackadder, Signatory, and Hunter Laing.
As for the triple distilled single cask 1979 Auchentoshan 32-Year-Old currently being reviewed . . . I can report the venerable old fellow came close to being a worshipful master, and then, sadly, disappointed as the result of a slight defect–in this case, his finish.
Does this mean that I will “abandon all hope” when it comes to Auchentoshan? Oh, hell no. It’s still on my radar. Speaking of which . . . enjoying a sample of triple distilled whisky from a rather large, thirty-two year-old Oloroso sherry cask was my distinct pleasure.
Latest News