Tales From The Bottom Shelf: Evan Williams

Last month I featured some pricey bottles. I could continue raiding the more exciting corners of my collection and give the impression that I’m loaded beyond imagination (rather, wealthy – loaded in the other sense might at times be accurate). Heck, I guess I could just write a series of wholly fictitious tasting notes just to add to the illusion — perhaps that will become an occasional feature at some point in the future. After all, who’s going to open all those Dalmores that sell for $25,000 and up? Might as well have some additional notes on them. Right: It’s a plan.

But, I’m not loaded (in either sense) right now, so balance is called for. Today we journey from the glass cases of December to the bottom shelf. This isn’t done in some sad attempt to claim legitimacy and relevance (I attempt to avoid both), but rather for the simple purpose of balance. You can’t eat coq au vin and wild game constantly; it’ll get stale and boring. Sometimes you just need a Pink’s chili dog. And in that spirit, we go from bottles with three figures left of the decimal to bottles with three figures, decimal included.

Today’s whisky is Evan Williams. That’s it. Plain, standard Evan Williams, stalwart resident of the bottom shelf of my local BevMo. You could argue that this is a position of shame, but I prefer to see Evan Williams as one of the foundations of the selection available. It’s not glamorous like the latest trendy bottle with a special label, nor does it necessarily occupy the same spot in the mind as, say, Jack Daniel’s or Jim Beam. Evan is a little more low key and anonymous, an everyman in the bourbon aisle.

I must admit before going further, I previously ran afoul of Evan Williams. In my college days, Evan was the first beverage that got me REALLY drunk. It became a staple of our movie nights, with a 1.75 being squirreled out and poured into a styrofoam cup and then mixed with Coke. The resulting hangovers were the stuff of legend and caused me to give Evan a wide berth in later years. (We also discovered one hung-over football morning that you could sing “Evan Williams Whiskey” in time with the chorus of Montell Jordan’s “This is How We Do It“.

That was then… this is several years later. I approached this with a bit of hesitation, figuring that at $9 this was probably about the same level as what powers my car and it was going to hurt going down. After all, those college diets and drinking habits aren’t chosen on taste…

The nose had more going on than I remembered – obvious corn upfront with a little tail end of new-makey vegetal sourness. Some moderate wood influence was there and a bit of varnish and paint thinner. Yeah, yeah, sounds great. But also in the nose were light bits of black cherry, caramel and faint vanilla, with a bit of cinnamon. All the elements for a decent bourbon (except maybe some age) are in place.

The mouthfeel is medium-light and gains some weight. The palate comes with plenty of toffee and caramel upfront with corn right behind. There’s some faint woodiness on the palate and a hint of raw sugar that echoes the new-make notes from the nose. There’s a distinct black cherry note very late in the palate.

The finish is probably the biggest stumbling point for Evan Williams – it’s vanishingly quick. There’s a bit of black pepper, some caramel and more corn; and then a quick hint of vanilla and some slight wood notes.

It turns out that Evan Williams is a pretty decent whiskey – especially considering the price. It’s not fully developed and would benefit from some age, but there are good elements in place. Compared to, say, Jim Beam, it’s miles ahead. Beam products to my palate have a much more sharp sugary sweetness that really makes it objectionable. Evan Williams to me is far more balanced, but would just benefit from some age.

Let this be a reminder to us all – those bottles at your feet may be worth reexamining. They’re likely not going to break the bank and they’ll generally be more satisfying than that white whiskey you were about to pay 30 bucks for. Put it back. Put it back! Just grab the Evan Williams. You can even let your friends mix it and you don’t have to get all uptight and fussy like whiskey drinkers are supposed to. (They’ll probably even appreciate that you haven’t stocked your bar with something that has a five minute long backstory detailing the more obscure points of cooperage.)

At a glance:

Evan Williams 43% ABV
Nose:
Notes of corn (and faintest new-make vegetal leafiness) and some moderate wood influence. Light cinnamon, very light black cherry. A slightly varnishy/thinner note. Light caramel and very faint vanilla.
Palate:  Medium-light on the palate but becoming heavier. Caramel and toffee are forefront with caramel dominant; corn notes are right behind it. Very faint wood, and a hint of raw sugar that is again an echo of the new make notes from the nose. Very late black cherries.
Finish: 
Vanishingly quick. A bit of pepper, a bit of caramel and corn. Hints of vanilla and mild wood. 
Comment: 
It’s not fully developed and would benefit from a little more time in wood, but the elements I like are there. This is way better than your average Jim Beam buy – by a longshot. Totally drinkable, totally mixable. 
Rating:
B-

The December Bottles, #4: Bruichladdich Chenin Blanc Finish

The December Bottle series wraps up today with the most confusing and vexing bottle I’ve had in some time: the Bruichladdich Quarts de Chaume Chenin Blanc finish that was a K&L exclusive bottling for this year.

I’d intended this to kick off the series, having not had a Bruichladdich in some time and generally being a fan of the distillery despite the peaks and valleys. However, this one proved to be a little harder to pin down than I’d expected. As the days moved on, the notes became more confusing and contradictory – such that I ended up enlisting the palate of Sku (via a blind sample) to get his impression of it.

His impression was not great. Suffice it to say that he wasn’t a fan. His notes were wildly off where mine were and I was genuinely confused. I reopened my bottle (having been splitting my time between the now-empty Glenmorangie Signet and Glenlivet Archive 21 and the fast-draining Laphroaig 25) for another pour. My subsequent email to Sku led off with “This isn’t the whisky I opened…”

Clearly something was afoot. I took it upon myself to try and figure this out – was this changing quickly due to oxidation? Did I have a strange read on it? Did it just need to be reduced to a target ABV? This Bruichladdich took center stage as a nightly science experiment.

I’d muddled through the remainder of the bottle trying to figure it out, sending the occasional email to David Driscoll at K&L to get his take on it and taking notes the whole while. Then the other shoe dropped with an email from David last night, which I’m reprinting in its entirety to give this context:

Hello everyone,
We here at the K&L Spirits Department hope you have had a restful and relaxing Christmas and we also hope you have celebrated it with some fine booze in hand!  I’m writing, unfortunately, to address a problem we’ve had and to make sure any of you who are affected are taken care of.
If you’ve recently purchased a bottle of the Bruichladdich K&L Exclusive Chenin Blanc cask, you may have noticed that it has become quite different than the whisky I describe in the tasting notes.  There has been some tremendous bottle variation and some bottles taste nothing at all like the whisky we originally tasted.  While the bottles were perfectly tasty on arrival, they no longer resemble the malt we selected.  Some have deteriorated completely, however, into a sour and somewhat tart malt that seems completely volatile and spoiled.  It’s a problem I first noticed last week and have been monitoring ever since.  What’s clear to me now after popping a recent bottle is that some of the whiskies are simply bad.  I don’t want anyone to associate that whisky with us, K&L, or Bruichladdich.  Something happened to this malt that I can’t explain, but I don’t want any of you to think that we purposely chose a whisky that tasted like that!  I’d rather take the hit than damage our reputation for selecting world class whiskies.
So, if you have a recent bottle that has been affected please feel free to contact me and exchange it for something else.  My apologies for the situation, but I’m seriously shocked as to what exactly happened.  I’m currently communicating with the distillery to see if we can get some more information.  Thanks for your understanding.  Hopefully some of you got to enjoy this whisky while it was still beautiful and exciting!  Enjoy your holiday!
David Driscoll
K&L Spirits Buyer

And as of this afternoon, the whisky is currently not available (with a Waiting List option). A fair course of action – and I certainly don’t think the Davids would have picked what this has become. (I have tasted several other K&L exclusives that line up closely with their notes and have been generally quite good – the Madeira-casked Springbank, the Banff and the Ben Nevis are among my favorites)

So let’s trace this whisky’s utterly confusing evolution.

The first week of this whisky, my notes were shaping up as follows:
Nose: Lightly leathery – like a new Coach wallet but not overbearing. Abundantly but not overbearingly fruity – hint of bananas, a little peach and pineapple. Faintest pepper. Water opens it up greatly, revealing hay, the trademark Bruichladdich brine notes, a faint rubberiness and a bit more peach and passionfruit.
Palate: Full mouthfeel. Quite warm and gets warmer. Leather in abundance. Fruity again – the peach notes tempered by darker fruits. Light malt in the background. Some cherries providing depth; some raisins there as well. Faintest hint of bubblegum. Water again bings the brine up into clear focus; some faint peat notes lie in the background as well as some wet grass.
Finish: Warm finish. Fruits pull to the forefront with some wood, leather and apple. Some peach, some white pepper. Extremely long, very chewy. Slight mint – the finish continues to develop over a long time. There’s some famines and brine as well.
Comment: This is eye-wateringly powerful like many Bruichladdichs can be. It’s a very curious blend of fruit and leather. It’s hard to pin down at full strength. Water makes this one a little more familiar – and it will take a lot of water. It’s not like much else that I’ve had. Enigmatic, slightly overripe.
Rating: B

A few days later I note that “As the bottle ages the overripe notes start to dominate”.

Mid-month, Sku posts an unflattering review and set of tasting notes. I’m genuinely surprised – I found the palate so dense that I just didn’t quite know what to make of it. I decide to revisit it. It’s completely a different whisky at this point.

Around halfway full the bottle is changing for the worse. Here’s what it looked at half full around ten days ago:

Nose: Gaseous with a strong kick of shoe polish. Overly sweet, bordering on sickly sweet. Strange whiff of vanilla. Smells slightly chemical and artificial.
Palate: Pungent. Earthy. Warming. Overripe fruits. Raisins and a dab of chili oil. The chemical, artificial leather and shoe polish note from the nose is present.
Finish: Dry and bitter. Leathery. Chewy. White pepper – hot and slightly industrial.
Comment: The flavors are separating out but not for the better.
Rating: C-

At this point I was in full science-experiement mode. Dilution became my next avenue of attack and showed the most promise. A few days later I had the most successful dilution of this one at around 40% ABV, perhaps slightly higher.

Diluted to 40%
Nose:
Fruit cocktail that’s a bit overripe. It’s kind of like a less overtly sugary Balblair. Leather. Pears. Light pepper. Cinnamon. White wine.
Palate: Moderate wood presence, a white wine lightness to the flavor. Somewhat effervescent. Sugary with a hint of pastry like a beignet. Heavy mouthfeel, some apricot notes.
Finish: White pepper, a bit of heat. White wine, a faint hint of leather. A bit of woody maltiness at the end.
Comment: This is almost certainly the way to have this. At cask strength it’s too overbearing. At 40% it’s actually fairly pleasant.
Rating: (dilution only) B-

Diluted, it was interesting though unremarkable. It still remained a curiosity. Last night I had the remaining pour of the whisky, emptying the bottle. By then, the complexity had completely faded and where there was once an overwhelming rush of aromas and tastes, it was a simple, straightforward and unpleasant whisky. It got to the point where there was an involuntary wince after the first swallow.

Last Pour Notes
Nose: Overripe fruit. Pleather. Acetone. Decay and garbage.
Palate: Objectionably bitter. Weird tartness. Like licking a cheap purse. Plenty of heat and a nasty overripe fruit flavor.
Finish: Hot; fake and cheap leather, a bit chewy.
Comment: Whatever this had, it’s lost.
Rating: D

So we end up with an interesting case of “when whiskies go bad” with this one. The accepted wisdom is generally that whiskies are more or less stable, but can go flat with some oxidation. (Some bottles perk up a bit in a half-open bottle). Some bottles on rare occasion do seem to go horribly wrong – the Bowmore 21 from the mid 90s that I reviewed a while back and become an interesting case study. The head-scratcher here was how this one completely fell apart in a month’s time. It started with almost impenetrable complexity which was what caused my delay in getting notes. Everything was good but there was so much going on. In a few short weeks though… it winds up being one of the worst in recent memory.

I’m more than happy to take the Davids at their word – as I said, the other samples I’ve had have been great and shouldn’t stop you from buying or cause you to second-guess their judgement. Likewise, the distillate out of Bruichladdich under Jim McEwan has been good – Port Charlotte especially is a high point. Something in this experiment went horribly wrong. I’ll be listening for updates and posting them as they come in. It’s very curious. Since this bottle is seemingly unavailable and weirdly unstable at this point I’m not giving this one an official grade. It can be as high as a B or well into low D territory. Ultimately, it’s been an interesting ride and I haven’t had a whisky this challenging or interesting in a while.

With this curious close to the December Bottles series, I thought I’d call out some highlights. The Glenmorangie Signet was the first bottle I’ve finished. I still think it’s overpriced but it develops nicely with some rum raisin cake notes as the bottle drains. You should definitely seek out a pour.

Glenlivet Archive 21 did not change appreciably in its lifetime. It was a good bottle that I’ll buy again at some point.

Laphroaig 25 seems to have lost some of its complexity. It’s still enjoyable but there’s less here to draw me back. Nevertheless it is down to the last few pours.

Of the bunch I think I enjoyed Signet the most but I think Archive was the best bang for the buck.

Thanks for reading.. the new year will bring some more interesting Scotch whisky; a few bourbon odds and ends and some random spring-cleaning notes. Hopefully the third release of the Single Oak Project will show up soon as well.

The December Bottles, #3: Glenlivet Archive 21 (old style bottle) – 43%

The December bottle reviews are nearly half over. For those curious about the prior reviews – the Glenmorangie Signet has continued to be enjoyable if not entirely remarkable and the Laphroaig 25y is also still a good and enjoyable different side of Laphroaig.

Today it’s time to feature another bottle. Today’s bottle is an old bottling of the Glenlivet 21y Archive. This bottle is not the style used currently – I’m unsure if it’s been reformulated since it was refreshed into a taller bottle or with the recent polish that was done to the Glenlivet line in general.

Some people I’ve talked to have cautiously floated their Scotch experiences to me and invariably mention a brush with Glenlivet. There’s a slight pause and you can almost see the person flinch in advance of what they expect will be some sort of long-winded snob diatribe from me about how their tastes are hopelessly pedestrian and that Glenlivet is just for the proles. I have to admit that when it comes to Glenlivet, there is no snob diatribe forthcoming. I honestly think it’s an underappreciated whisky.

Glenlivet is one of the biggest sellers – they sell enough every year to fill the Black Sea six times over, or so. The automatic assumption is that because they sell this much, the quality can’t possibly be there. We’ve been trained to believe that the only high-quality experience can be delivered by some guy who sings to his barley every night and begins the process of fermenting it with his tears – his unique biochemistry is part of the recipe – and makes six bottles a decade.

Frankly, that’s untrue.

Glenlivet is underrated. And we’ll cover other expressions in the Glenlivet range over time to allow me to bolster my opinion. Today, we’re starting this defense of a top-seller with and old bottle of the 21 year old Archive.

This bottling, as best as I can tell, is at least five years old and maybe more. For a while now the 21 has been packaged in a more fancy special wooden box, which seems to be the way high quality must be signaled. (And yet the 2007 official release of Brora comes in a boring tin…) But not this one! It comes in a boring cardboard box and some wrapping paper! Excellent – no money wasted on extra junk.

Now, you can’t sell a whisky over 20 years without some elaborate origin story. Archive 21′s origin story involves some sort of secret chamber of amazing select whiskies. It’s probably like the disappearing room in the Harry Potter movies. I’d tell you more but I recently submitted my application to be a Guardian of the Glenlivet and I’ve been told the first rule is that you don’t talk about the Archive room. (Actually, the first rule is that you bring whisky to the meetings, but that said…)

Alright. Enough joking around – what’s the story with this whisky that’s legally old enough to drink itself?

The nose was surprising to me initially. There was a sherry influence that was heavier than I normally detect on Glenlivets. Interesting! There were dried fruits – orange and apple and also a touch of raisin. Malty aromas provided the foundation for everything, with a bit of vanilla. Unsurprisingly for an older whisky, there were hints of a waxy apple skin note. A bit of white pepper provided some spice to keep things interesting.

The whisky was slightly bitter at first, but this went away as the fruit notes from the nose quickly opened up. Sherry was right along behind it, bringing the waxy fruit notes with it in a big way. The apple notes from the nose continued on the palate. This comes up over and over for me on old whiskies and it’s usually pretty enjoyable. This time is no exception. Much as the nose hints at, this is a fairly malty body with pepper and a trace of cinnamon.

It’s warming initially with an unmistakable note of cinnamon immediately as the finish starts. Dried fruits continue; apple and malt dominate. There’s a slight cereal flavor to it all.

It’s a very well-executed Glenlivet with more balanced sherry than I normally would expect. It’s got a lot of heft and is rich and full. It’s enjoyable but unlike some whiskies in the over-20 set it’s not tired. My only complaint is that it doesn’t hold a lot of surprise beyond the initial sherry. I don’t think I’d hesitate to recommend this to someone looking to impress with a gift of an older whisky at a price that won’t break the bank.

There’s one more bottle in the December whiskies and it’s a puzzler to me still. Stay tuned – and until the next time, happy holidays!

At a glance:

Glenlivet Archive 21y (old bottle) – 43% ABV
Nose: 
Strong sherry influence; nice dried fruits note, a touch of raisin. Malt and vanilla. Waxy with a hint of apple. A slight dusting of white pepper. 
Palate: 
Slightly bitter immediately upon entry; fruits open up quickly with a moderate sherry influence. The waxy fruit notes are pronounced; apple notes are present. Fairly malty; pepper and a trace of cinnamon. 
Finish: 
Warming – definite cinnamon immediately at the start; dried fruits. Apple. Malt. Slight cereal grains. 
Comment: 
A very well-executed Glenlivet with more balanced sherry notes than I would have expected. Good, weighty, full and enjoyable but not tired. 
Rating:
B

The December Bottles, #2: Laphroaig 25y Cask Strength – 2008 (51.2%)

The December bottlings continues with another fun entry: Laphroaig’s 25 year old cask strength bottling from 2008.

Laphroaig’s 25 year old expression is one that isn’t very common on shelves, and it’s currently rather pricey. As a fan of the 10 year old Laphroaig, when I found this at a reasonable price I couldn’t pass it up.

Let’s not talk about price now, though: it’s the holidays and we’re supposed to spend like drunken sailors. At 51%, this will do a lot to help get you into that drunken state (the nautical experience is your responsibility).

This bottle of Laphroaig has much less packaging flourishes than the Glenmorangie Signet did. It comes in a nice and understated wooden box that’s painted a nice dark shade. It’s got a small label on the front and the bottle is nestled inside, cushioned by some raffia. I suppose if you were bored while drinking the Laphroaig, you could weave the raffia into some sort of small demitasse cozy or something along those lines. The bottle itself is a basic Laphroaig bottle – nothing more, nothing less.

After the presentation of the Glenmorangie, I appreciate the relative simplicity of this one. Not that lavish productions aren’t nice, but an elegant and minimal presentation can be refreshing.

At first nosing of the Laphroaig, the trademark medicinal aromas of the 10 are nowhere near as forward. They’ve softened with age and are more of a background note than a dominant part of the character. In fact, the medicinal notes have almost separated into their own area on the palate and there’s a faintly separate earthy note like the peat you get off of many other Islay whiskies. As you’d expect on a whisky this old, there are some slightly waxy fruit notes; there’s also a hint of apple skin. To me, these two are markers of age. There’s some vanilla in the nose, a touch of sherry, and some dry fruits. A bit of brown sugar is balanced by some of the bacony, cured meat notes that you can pick up on the 10.

It’s nowhere near as aggressive as the 10, but it’s recognizable as a member of the family – perhaps one that has settled down a bit. It was a bit surprising to get the sweetness and waxiness so clearly on this whisky. Many older Port Ellens that I’ve had still have a very aggressive peat at 25 years and older, so I expected something similar on the nose of the Laphroaig.

The mouthfeel is full and rich and a hint oily – more so than the 10 year. There’s a bit of wood early on that reminds you this is an older whisky, but it’s not overbearing or unpleasantly bitter. Some of the familiar tastes come up – smoke, some briny notes and cured meat. There’s also some vanilla and a bit of fruitcake. More surprisingly to me were the notes of apples and pears, which I don’t necessarily expect in strength with Laphroaig. This is in familiar territory to other Laphroaigs, but is uniquely its own due to the more pronounced fruit notes.

The finish is as you’d expect: long and lasting, with a very full presence that is no doubt bolstered by the strength of the bottling. The pears from late in the palate come through; the finish is oily and rich and has some light smokiness to it. The medicinal notes are probably most pronounced on the finish and give some dimension to it.

Overall, this is a good, full-flavored, nuanced whisky. The younger Laphroaig’s aggression has been moderated with age and the whisky is carried more by waxy fruit notes and a hint of sherry. The surprise of apples and pears on the palate help keep this feeling somewhat young. It’s very nicely balanced.

All that said, it’s just a step short of the knees buckling, eyes rolling back into the head kind of experience you might want. The waxy notes are just a bit sluggish which makes me wonder if these casks were starting to get a little tired, or if this is just a note that is more common to aged Laphroaig. I guess I’ll find out in the years to come. As it is, this is a solid B+ malt that just needed something more to push it into A territory.

Stepping beyond that, I believe the asking price for the 25 these days is north of $400. I think that’s a bit rich given that you can find some superb Port Ellens and Broras (which have been closed for 30 years) at a lower price that are higher quality. I personally would like to see something that is much bolder overall at that price. I think this would be much more in line with its experience at about half that price. However, it’s worth reiterating that pricing is not part of the ratings here so the B+ rating doesn’t change (nor does it take the current price into account).

At a glance:

Laphroaig 25y (2008) 51.2% ABV
Nose:
The trademark Laphroaig medicinal aromas have faded into the background, revealing more direct peat – which is also restrained. Waxy fruits, a hint of apple, a whiff of cured meats. A bit of vanilla and some hint of sherry. Light notes of dry fruits. Brown sugar. 
Palate:
Full mouthfeel, nice and oily; some wood that shows age but isn’t bitter or heavy. Smoke, cured meat, light brine. A bit of vanilla. A bit of fruitcake. A hint of pears. A bit of apple as well. 
Finish: 
Long, lasting, full. The medicinal notes give some dimension; light smoke; oily and rich. A bit of pears. 
Comment:
Good, full flavor. The aggression of the younger Laphroaigs is moderated by age, as waxy fruit notes dominate. Despite the age, it’s still got notes of youth with the pears and apples. It’s a nicely nuanced and balanced malt. 
Rating:
B+

Single Oak Project – Quick Notes

As some people have found, I’ve added a condensed scorecard page with the ratings of all Single Oak bottlings I’ve had to date. If you are trying to figure out if the bottle on the shelf is any good (at least, according to me), I hope it’s useful.

Also a note for my LA based friends – The Wine House has a large selection of the Single Oaks on their shelves right now. I’ve seen a mix of release one and release two. If you’ve wanted to try one – or better still to split one among friends (they can be odd) – this is an easy time to pick one up. If you’re not in LA, unfortunately Wine House doesn’t ship spirits.

Single Oak Project release 3 will be reviewed shortly after I receive it. Stay tuned, as always.

The December Bottles, #1: Glenmorangie Signet

This year I decided to begin what will (I hope) become an annual tradition: opening a few extravagant bottles after Thanksgiving to enjoy. Throughout the year, various bottlings are discontinued, put on sale, or stumbled upon unexpectedly. As with most aficionados I have accumulated a pile of bottles “for a special occasion”. Instead of hoarding them, I’d like to make sure I have at least one spot on my calendar where I will definitely make a dent in them.

This year I have four bottles that I’ve opened. One was found at a great price, one I’d wanted for a while, one unexpected dusty find and one very new bottling. I’ll be revealing these over the next couple weeks with my thoughts on them.

First up is Glenmorangie Signet. I’ve been curious about this bottle for ages. It’s an incredibly classy presentation – a nice bottle that doesn’t resemble a still; nice type and design; a rich-looking fade from black on the bottle, and an unusual and borderline over-the-top metal ring treatment at the neck and stopper of the bottle. The stopper is probably the heaviest I’ve ever felt. It actually weighs nearly a quarter of a pound. I guess that’ll keep any angels from stealing beyond their share.

Nearly a quarter of a pound. That's a hefty stopper!

The Signet comes in a very oversized box, which contains the bottle – obviously – and a small flip book. The flip book is a curious addition; I can honestly say I’ve never seen a whisky package that includes one. Opposite the flip animation is a bit of marketing copy that is completely over the top. If you took it at face value, you’d probably believe that Signet is somewhere between germ theory and the wheel in terms of importance to humanity. The box lid itself inverts and becomes a presentation-style base for the whisky bottle. If it’s as amazing as the book would indicate, this is the least that can be done for such an important whisky.

Upon reading the Signet booklet, Dr. Louis Pasteur realized his life's work was less important than he'd thought.

All this is great: a very nice presentation. But what about the contents of this handsome package?

Glenmorangie Signet, as the story goes, is made using a large proportion of older whisky, as well as some younger whisky made with chocolate malted barley. The beer drinkers know what this means: the barley is roasted until it is deep in color. No actual chocolate was used in the production of this whisky, unless a distillery employee happened to be eating a bar of chocolate. (Remember, single malt Scotch whisky is always water and barley. Any more than that and their trade group gets a bit persnickety)

Thumbs up to Glenmorangie for finding a new way to innovate within the fairly restrictive parameters for single malts. Most other innovations have been largely in the direction of finishing in unusual barrels – which seems to be part of a marketing arms race versus a substantial improvement in aroma, taste or mouthfeel. Some experiments are a success but the vast majority are a push – and some an outright disaster. I’d be very curious to see what else could come of experimenting with malts as there’s a lot of room to experiment here.

Pouring the Signet into the glass and nosing, there’s an initial surprise. Despite its 46% ABV stated on the label, it’s got a surprisingly lively nose. There’s definitely a little heat on it. There’s a sweetness with some cherry notes, as well as some definite notes of sherry in there as well. Plums and dry fruit come in quickly after, with a bit of leather and some fig. The leather also has an old study character to it. The malty aspects of the nose do slightly hint in the direction of a stout; clearly the result of the chocolate malt. There’s also something that tastes like a mix of dark chocolate and espresso. It’s a multilayered nose but it works together. It screams “December” to me.

The palate doesn’t disappoint: It’s warm and rich, with heat and sherry. There’s a slightly bitter presence of oak. The mouthfeel is thick and rich with dried fruit. The chocolate malt comes through again, giving it a sweet, slightly bready characteristic with dark chocolate and espresso as well. The palate doesn’t surprise after the nose. The finish is drying with dark dried fruit. The wood is pretty apparent in the finish but it’s not a bitter presence. At the very end, some malty sweetness peeks out.

This whisky is a big, rich, full and easygoing whiskey. If I were to draw a parallel to anything on the market, my first instinct would be Macallan 18. I’d probably be willing to drink this as a replacement for Macallan 18 at any given time. It’s got a lot of the same notes and a similar character. Unfortunately, Signet retails for about $50 more than Macallan 18, so why bother if that’s the sole characteristic?

Overall it’s enjoyable in a not-very-challenging way (high marks for a holiday whisky or potentially something to serve to people who aren’t hardcore spirits dorks. It’s tasty but not particularly nuanced. I’d be curious to see what happens if more chocolate malt was in the mix – it might not work. Overall, it’s good but it needs something to punch it up.

Reflecting on this one in terms of a value for the money standpoint – one I admit I don’t do often – I can’t help but think that this would be dramatically cheaper if the packaging was a more common sleeve or tin and the presentation base and flip book were done away with. If this were price-competitive with Macallan 18, as mentioned above, I would seriously consider it as a substitute. As it is, it seems a bit overpriced for what it is. it’s a unique experiment and I certainly hope Glenmorangie tries more. However, given the packaging of Signet (and the over-the-top presentation of Pride), it seems that Glenmorangie’s most interesting experiments will be unfortunately sequestered to the glass case with a high price tag. In all fairness to Glenmorangie, I have heard the Pride is great (from a friend who tried some at a tasting) – but at $2500+ a bottle, I’ll never know.

At a glance

Glenmorangie Signet 46% ABV
Nose: 
An initial surprise with some stronger-than-expected alcohol notes. A sweetness on the nose with some cherry notes, some sherry characteristics, plums, dried fruit, a light leather-and-old-study note and some fig. There’s a malty presence that is a bit like a stout, no doubt owing to the use of chocolate malt. There’s a slight espresso-meets-chocolate note. After a bit there’s a more direct barley note. 
Palate: 
Warm and rich on the palate, with a very slight bitter oak to it, sherry notes present, surprising heat again. Thick in the mouth, dried fruit again. Slight bread, slight sweet notes of malt. Dark chocolate, a bit of espresso.
Finish: 
Drying and with dark, dried fruit. Wood pretty apparent but not bitter. A bit of malt sweetness peeking out at the end. 
Comment:  This is a big, full, easygoing whiskey. This would be one that I’d use as a “worthy replacement for Macallan 18″ but it’s about $50 more, so what’s the point? Enjoyable but not challenging, tasty but not particularly nuanced. I’d be curious to see what happens if there was a bit more chocolate malt in the mix. It’s good but needs something to punch it up.
Rating:
B

All Blues: Two Johnnie Walker Blue Labels

At the top of the Johnnie Walker range lies the stored Johnnie Walker Blue Label. It’s become an easy shorthand for luxury – just watch an episode of Entourage and see the Chase brothers putting away a bottle of Johnnie Blue at a mega-wealthy family’s private party.

If you’ve started to jump into rarer or more costly single malts, the buy-in for Johnnie Walker is not unfathomable. However, for those who have more down-to-earth budgets, or for those who have not gotten deep into the hobby, the price tag alone makes it unattainable.

Unattainable?

Even bars charge ridiculous prices for pours of Johnnie Blue. All this mystique results in a premium-priced whisky being compartmentalized outside of most peoples’ acceptable buy-in.

Beyond Blue lies the King George V edition of Blue, made using whiskies that were available during the reign of King George V (1910-1936). Most notably, this means an inclusion of the storied whisky from Port Ellen, which has been closed for nearly 30 years now. King George is a relatively limited edition – by Johnnie Walker volume – of 60,000 bottles, 7,300 in the US.

I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to try these two whiskies and thought this would be good to share, similar to the Macallan 30 review from the launch of this blog.

Johnnie Walker Blue is surprisingly light. It’s sweet and malty on the nose with just a whiff of peat – nothing powerful. There’s not really much more to the nose – very straightforward. It is reminiscent of Clynelish in a way, but a little less assertive. The palate is medium to light – it’s not thin but it’s not mouth-coating. It’s moderately sweet with faint peat. There’s a very gentle bit of heat to it, faintly taking the form of pepper. There’s malty sweetness on the palate as well as a faint saltiness – not at all unlike some of the Islay distilleries. The finish is as smooth as you’d expect it to be; very light and not particularly long lasting. It’s got some slight heat to it though with a little pepper. There’s plenty of malt and after a while, a faint woody mustiness. This is a note I haven’t found a better way to describe – dry and earthy; the closest I could describe it is like the exterior rind of a cantaloupe. I get it commonly on Old Pulteney and it’s not uncommon on the Japanese whiskies I’ve tasted.

All in all, Blue is a very easy-drinking and light whisky. There’s a little dimension to it, but not much. The main turnoff for this standard Blue is the value for the price. There are single malts that do similar things (Clynelish, Old Pulteney, Aberfeldy) at a much better value. The faint heat and smoke give it a little personality, but for such a luxury image, it’s actually a bit of a milquetoast whisky.

With the expectations lowered, it was time to move on to the King George V edition of Blue. I didn’t expect much after the standard Blue.

The nose showed more depth – it still had the gentle malt of Blue, but added in much more. The peat was more assertive with a faintly rubbery tang – hello, Port Ellen – as well as some more bold peppery heat. There’s also some slight butteriness, and some light floral and vanilla notes develop. A slight hint of pineapple provides a little juicy dimension to the nose. Already, the nose showed a much greater nuance.

The King shows a little more depth...

The palate was again quite light – white pepper and cinnamon with heat out of the gate – with a bit of faintly rubbery peat. The buttery note from the palate carried through, and the malt was evident as more of a grainy note.

The finish competes with the nose in terms of being the best part of this whisky – there’s nice pepper and chili oil, similar to Talisker. There’s malt and hay on the finish, and the whole thing lasts for a reasonable length.

King George V ends up being a reasonably nuanced Johnnie Walker, with a little more happening than standard Blue Label, offering a bit more than you might get from any one single malt. It’s still somewhat light on the palate though. Having a price well in excess of the Blue makes this a tough sell though.

That said, there are deals to be had on King George V. Don’t succumb to the $500-600 retail that many are selling for. Very cursory searching revealed these available at $350. That’s still more than I think this is worth, ultimately, but if you subtracted out the price of the decanter and box, this would be much closer to being a good value.

All said, I don’t think I’m going to be spending  lot of time in the future with the Blue Label editions. King George V is certainly nice, but its price is out of step with what it provides. Standard Blue Label is just disappointingly simple.

At a glance:

Johnnie Walker Blue Label – 40% ABV
Nose:  Gently malty; sweet. Faint peat but not too powerful.
Palate:  Medium-light mouthfeel. Somewhat sweet; faintly peaty. Gentle heat – just a touch of pepper. Malty – a bit of sweetness. Faint saltiness.
Finish:  Smooth, light finish. A slight bit of heat on the finish – a little pepper and plenty of malt. After a bit there’s some woody mustiness.
Comment:  It’s kind of plainly middle of the road. Not much happening – it is similar to an older malt that’s kind of aged past its prime and lost some fire. The faint heat and smoke gives it some personality but it’s kind of milquetoast. That said, at 40% and sweet and malty, it is pretty solidly drinkable. After all that: It’s a lot to pay for blandness.
Rating: B-

Johnnie Walker Blue Label – King George V Edition 43% ABV
Nose:  Malty and gentle, with some light-to-medium peat with a faintly rubbery tang. Pepper, light pineapple, and slight butteriness. Light floral notes develop. Vanilla.
Palate:  Light in the mouth. White pepper, faint cinnamon. A bit of rubber and malt. Slightly buttery. Slight grain.
Finish:  Nice pepper and faint chili oil. Malty and with a bit of grain – hay. Reasonably lasting finish.
Comment:  This is much better than the standard blue label with more nuance. It’s still somewhat light for my tastes, but the pepper and peat give it a lot of depth that are missing from the standard blue label. Good in spite of the price tag.
Rating: B