Ok, fine, it’s really not that bad. It has some nice floral elements in the nose, a straightforward flavor, and not too much bitterness on the finish. For $30, you could certainly do worse, but I feel that for a little more money, one could enjoy a wide variety of single-malts that shine in their own ways.
The syrah barrels do serve to elevate it somewhat – particularly on the nose – but are not able to mask the blandness of the whiskey. If nothing else, this is a very inexpensive way to get some vaguely interesting Irish whiskey.
I have to concede that this is better than DoubleWood 12. However, it doesn’t warrant the same price tag that is carried by amazing malts like Ardbeg Corryvreckan or Talisker 18.
This is a particularly sweet, aromatic whisky with a very muted peat profile. If someone handed me a glass, I can honestly say I would enjoy drinking it. Alas, this whisky is not worth the (exceptional) effort required to secure a bottle.
The marriage of elegant light bourbon-aged Balvenie malt with a cavalcade of fresh sweet fruit from the brief dip in sherry barrels is spot-on, like the 12 DoubleWood with a little more of everything that makes it great, a bit more refined, and less bitter oak on the finish. A pleasure, but at this price point – definitely a splurge.
Not as much of a sherry bomb as previous batches, but more complex and brooding. Still burns like sweet, sweet fire. The price is not as approachable as days gone by, but $60 for a fantastic sherried cask-strength whisky is still not a bad deal. I continue to recommend this malt highly.
Subtle and accomplished, if light. The peat is masterfully understated, and plays beautifully with the naturally sweet lemon, honey, and floral elements. Don’t let the ‘light’ moniker distract from the fact that this is very highly peated malt, with far more subtlety than, say, Laphroaig, but a lot more power and sinus-burning peat than Highland Park. It does very much stand alone among the Islay malts, though, being light and playful, but also masterful and persuasive.
Scapa is light in nature, but delivers surprisingly deep and complex variations on the theme. Not just vanilla, but rich, roasty vanilla. Not just taffy, but briny, homemade saltwater taffy. Not just a good sipping malt, but elegant and accomplished from nose to finish.
With or without water, this is a big drink. Something about the craggy mountain of flavor that is Booker’s was a big challenge for my nose and palate. The alcohol, although mature, is aggressive and untamed from the assault on my nose, through the river of fire on my tongue, until the tail end of the desiccating dryness of the finish.
Not substantially better than other sherried 12 year-olds, but priced at the psychologically detrimental $50 mark. Look for this one on sale, or splurge on the older malts in the line.