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
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
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.”
