16 years ld; double matured in Moscatel oak wood; 700 ml; 54.1% ABV; 7500 bottles produced; price exceeds $200 in limited market offerings.
Appearance:
Old gold in color. When rolled in a glass, this single malt shows off dumpy legs with irregular beading. Visually, its nothing to write home about, but looks arent everything. Scent: Harmonious combination of peat and sweet. A blustery gust of marine air leaps out of my glass. On second sniff, after my
Nose:
has adjusted to the gravitas of 108 proof, I am now able to sort out notes of kelp, wet sand, and sea salt, along with a subtle brushstroke of sherry. My Grandpa Bob was a commercial fisherman, and so I speak from experience when I say that this Distillery Only bottling evokes memories of hemp ropes and creosote on Bobs fishing boat, which was called Sashay. The peat smoke here is really quite exquisite. Im almost embarrassed to admit that I also detect a scent of avocado pit. How strange. Must be a hint of wooden casks. Theres also a sweet caramel note loitering in the background. Taste: Yes, this Lagavulin is emminently quaffable at 54.1%, but I will eventually add a few drops of water, and then maybe a few more. Without water, the malt and peat display a fairly complex array of impressions. Oddly enough, these seem to combine, and then to separate, once again, as though by an act of magic. What in the blazes? Folks, dont try this trick at home, unless the distillery bottle from which youre drinking was made by trained professionals. Flavors range from sweet to bitter. Theres Lagavulin peat smoke at its very best, Boston brown bread, the crusty top of creme brulee, tar, hemp rope, and freshly laid asphalt. With water, these fairly distinct edges blur into smoother (yet less complex) notes of mesquite steak rub, dark chocolate, caramel, and dried brandy. The finish is medium in length, featuring a resurgence of smoky peat. The Takeaway 5 If you happen to find one of these bottles, and you can afford to buy it, then you know what to do. Make me proud. True, its only sixteen years old, buthey, hey, heyits fabulous. In point of fact, I like Lagavulins Distillery Exclusive offering this year a little more than Feis Ile 2017, which was double matured in Moscatel casks. Yes, this maturation sounds intriguing. However, its worth speculating about the quality of said Moscatel casks. They were originally owned by Caol Ila. Judging by the unadorned nose and and and
Palate:
Yes, this Lagavulin is emminently quaffable at 54.1%, but I will eventually add a few drops of water, and then maybe a few more. Without water, the malt and peat display a fairly complex array of impressions. Oddly enough, these seem to combine, and then to separate, once again, as though by an act of magic. What in the blazes? Folks, dont try this trick at home, unless the distillery bottle from which youre drinking was made by trained professionals. Flavors range from sweet to bitter. Theres Lagavulin peat smoke at its very best, Boston brown bread, the crusty top of creme brulee, tar, hemp rope, and freshly laid asphalt. With water, these fairly distinct edges blur into smoother (yet less complex) notes of mesquite steak rub, dark chocolate, caramel, and dried brandy. The finish is medium in length, featuring a resurgence of smoky peat. , Im guessing those infamous wine casks were pretty much sugarless by the time Lagavulin got hold of them. Two years ago, Lagavulins 24 Year Old Feis Ile (American oak, PX, and oak puncheons) was nothing short of awe-inspiring, and thats an understatement. Far be it from me to hold next years Feis Ile up to such an impeccably high standard. You wont hear a peep out of this church mouseeven if Lagavulin sees fit to age its festival offering in Albariño casks, or auntys wooden leg. Ive never tasted another Distillery Exclusive. Seven years ago, there was a Distillery Only, which was supposed to be fabulous. I really do hope devotees arent required to sit around for another seven years waiting for history to repeat itself. 7,500 bottles of this years nepenthe are not enough for us to properly eulogize, or even to remember, save from the crumbling parchments upon which our tasting notes have been scribbled, with crabby claws for hands. As HP Lovecraft once said: In the cosmos, there is balm . . . as well as bitterness. Sending User Review 3.88 (8 votes) Buy A Bottle Share: XFacebookLinkedInEmail Drinks Aizome Island Tropical Style Minor Cobbler Strawberry Rhubarb Julep Crimson & Clover Club Wynken, Blynken, & Nog Related Articles Whiskey Review: Wheel Horse Cigar Blend Bourbon Editor’s Note: The Whiskey Wash… READ ARTICLE ? about Whiskey Review: Wheel Horse Cigar Blend Bourbon Bourbon / Reviews Whiskey Review: Highline Triple Rye Whiskey Editors Note: This whiskey was… READ ARTICLE ? about Whiskey Review: Highline Triple Rye Whiskey American / Reviews Whiskey Review: Savage & Cooke American Whiskey Editors Note: This whiskey was… READ ARTICLE ? about Whiskey Review: Savage & Cooke American Whiskey American / Reviews Whisky Review: Bruichladdich Octomore 14.3 Editors Note: This whisky was… READ ARTICLE ? about Whisky Review: Bruichladdich Octomore 14.3 Reviews / Scotch Whisky Review: Glenglassaugh 12 Years Old Editors Note: This whisky was… READ ARTICLE ? about Whisky Review: Glenglassaugh 12 Years Old Reviews / Scotch Whiskey Review: Highline American Whiskey Editors Note: This whiskey was… READ ARTICLE ? about Whiskey Review: Highline American Whiskey American / Reviews Whiskey Review: Savage & Cooke Rye Whiskey Editors Note: This whiskey was… READ ARTICLE ? about Whiskey Review: Savage & Cooke Rye Whiskey American / Reviews Whisky Review: Bruichladdich Octomore 14.2 Editors Note: This whisky was… READ ARTICLE ? about Whisky Review: Bruichladdich Octomore 14.2 Reviews / Scotch Whisky Review: Glenglassaugh Sandend Editors Note: This whisky was… READ ARTICLE ? about Whisky Review: Glenglassaugh Sandend Reviews / Scotch Whiskey Review: Highline Straight Kentucky Whiskey Editors Note: This whiskey was… READ ARTICLE ? about Whiskey Review: Highline Straight Kentucky Whiskey American / Reviews Whisky Kirk Kirk discovered the brilliance of Scottish whisky in 1987 while vacationing in Edinburgh. Over the course of three and a half decades that followed, he’s built upon a knowledge of distilleries and the industry, as well as world whisky. Kirk prides himself on speaking honestly while avoiding the usual flattery… More by Whisky Kirk Follow us on Twitter Find us on Facebook Follow us on Instagram Connect with on on LinkedIn About Advertise Subscribe Editorial Standards Privacy Policy Terms of Use
Finish:
Comments:
If you happen to find one of these bottles, and you can afford to buy it, then you know what to do. Make me proud. True, it’s only sixteen years old, but–hey, hey, hey–it’s fabulous.rnrnIn point of fact, I like Lagavulin’s Distillery Exclusive offering this year a little more than Feis Ile 2017, which was double matured in Moscatel casks. Yes, this maturation sounds intriguing. However, it’s worth speculating about the quality of said Moscatel casks. They were originally owned by Caol Ila. Judging by the unadorned nose and palate, I’m guessing those infamous wine casks were pretty much “sugarless” by the time Lagavulin got hold of them.rnrnTwo years ago, Lagavulin’s 24 Year Old Feis Ile (American oak, PX, and oak puncheons) was nothing short of awe-inspiring, and that’s an understatement. Far be it from me to hold next year’s Feis Ile up to such an impeccably high standard. You won’t hear a peep out of this church mouse–even if Lagavulin sees fit to age its festival offering in Albariño casks, or aunty’s wooden leg.rnrnI’ve never tasted another Distillery Exclusive. Seven years ago, there was a “Distillery Only,” which was supposed to be fabulous. I really do hope devotees aren’t required to sit around for another seven years waiting for history to repeat itself. 7,500 bottles of this year’s nepenthe are not enough for us to properly eulogize, or even to remember, save from the crumbling parchments upon which our tasting notes have been scribbled, with crabby claws for hands. As HP Lovecraft once said: “In the cosmos, there is balm . . . as well as bitterness.”
In 1742 there were at least ten illicit stills at Lagavulin on Islay. Fast forward 74 years: Local farmer John Johnston founds the first legal distillery, in sight of Dunyvaig Castle. Now fast forward again . . . over the span of two hundred years.
Air travel evolves from blimps, to motorized gliders, to biplanes, to jet airplanes. Two hundred million Europeans are sacrificed in wars. The English and American stock markets are crashed. In Scotland, a few dozen distilleries rise vertically–brick laid upon brick, mortar slopped upon mortar–only to crumble back down to earth again. Millions of glasses of whisky are consumed. They are tipped back at every second of every hour of every day.
These days, the only “Lagavulin” left standing advertises itself as the same distillery that John Johnston built. In fact, last year Lagavulin celebrated its two hundred year anniversary. However, before you raise your glass for a belated toast, it’s worth asking whether this bicentenary was fact or fiction. Was it really the same distillery that Farmer John built? Ah, well, who knows. One thing’s for sure: folks there can make pure dead brilliant whisky.
Aye right, that concludes our history lesson. Moving right along . . . I’m going to review a “distillery exclusive” from Lagavulin. A friend recently poured out a generous sample from her bottle, which had flown back with her from Islay.
Vital Stats: 16 years ld; double matured in Moscatel oak wood; 700 ml; 54.1% ABV; 7500 bottles produced; price exceeds $200 in limited market offerings.
Appearance: Old gold in color. When rolled in a glass, this single malt shows off dumpy legs with irregular beading. Visually, it’s nothing to write home about, but looks aren’t everything.
Scent: Harmonious combination of “peat and sweet.” A blustery gust of marine air leaps out of my glass. On second sniff, after my nose has adjusted to the gravitas of 108 proof, I am now able to sort out notes of kelp, wet sand, and sea salt, along with a subtle brushstroke of sherry.
My Grandpa Bob was a commercial fisherman, and so I speak from experience when I say that this Distillery Only bottling evokes memories of hemp ropes and creosote on Bob’s fishing boat, which was called “Sashay.” The peat smoke here is really quite exquisite. I’m almost embarrassed to admit that I also detect a scent of “avocado pit.” How strange. Must be a hint of wooden casks. There’s also a sweet caramel note loitering in the background.
Taste: Yes, this Lagavulin is emminently quaffable at 54.1%, but I will eventually add a few drops of water, and then maybe a few more. Without water, the malt and peat display a fairly complex array of impressions. Oddly enough, these seem to combine, and then to separate, once again, as though by an act of magic. What in the blazes? Folks, don’t try this trick at home, unless the distillery bottle from which you’re drinking was made by trained professionals.
Flavors range from sweet to bitter. There’s Lagavulin peat smoke at its very best, Boston brown bread, the crusty top of creme brulee, tar, hemp rope, and freshly laid asphalt. With water, these fairly distinct edges blur into smoother (yet less complex) notes of mesquite steak rub, dark chocolate, caramel, and dried brandy. The finish is medium in length, featuring a resurgence of smoky peat.
The potential impacts of cask investment fraud on the scotch whisky industry was discussed in the Scottish Parliament in April 2024, hopefully paving the way for more regulation within the industry.
Trending Stories
Latest News