Glasshouse Blended Scotch Whisky
100% Malt Blended Scotch Whisky| 46% ABV
Score: 6/10
Good Stuff.
TL;DR
Not just good, but interestingly good
Look, admit it - you prefer malts, don’t you?
I do. Or at least it would certainly seem like I do, if the plethora of uncorked bottles littering every available surface and crammed in every nook and cranny in this little room is anything to go by. Yet, if I say the words out loud, that’s not what comes out. “Blends can be amazing,” is what I say. Like I know it’s the ‘right’ thing to say, but do I mean it? A bottle count betrays the truth – my blend collection currently stands at 2% of my entire stash. Hmm. It reminds me of when I’m asked the question of what my favourite band is. My answer may follow fashion, company or moment and not exactly match the truth that can be easily uncovered by flicking through old vinyl records.
When we settle into our own personal rhythm of enjoying whiskies we find our groove. Chances are, if you’re reading Dramface, you’ve at least found something of a groove in whisky. Probably malt whisky, right? Me too. If that is indeed the case, I’ll venture they’re mostly single malts. Again, same here. I’m sure, like me, you’re aware of blends, but I rather imagine that given the option on a purchase between a shiny new blend and a shiny new malt, your hard-earned coin will end up being dropped in the slot that selects the groove you’re most into; malt. I mean, it may just be the next big thing and you’d get to say you discovered it before it was famous.
Given our disposition, it’s a much harder thing to imagine being excited about a blend purchase. There’s plenty to get excited about in the blended malt category, as was touched upon in the Campbeltown Loch review, but reviewing a blended scotch doesn’t give up much inspirational thought to what could be, does it? I really don’t think that’s just me?
I have more than an inkling that the category with the most potential to be developed into something much more than it is today is blended Scotch. Too much of it (in and out of Scotch) is dressed up with thinly-veiled back stories and celebrity sponsorships all placing the packaging ahead of the liquid. I suppose that’s fine if so much of it will be mixed away in a tall glass or cocktail, but for those of us who really love swimming in whisky’s unique spectrum of flavour, that’s not really going to cut it. It needs to taste great on its own too. Ironically, that probably means it’ll be a helluva lot better in those cocktails too.
Anyway, there are some out there that are attempting to turn this tide a little, and while I have yet to try Jenson Button’s very recent Coachbuilt offering, I hear it’s pretty tasty. I mean, I’m sure not all of those positively opined influencers were offered free bottles or VIP tickets to meet Mr Button on launch night, were they? Even if it’s good, we have a NAS blend at an asking price of £42. That places it among a lot of competition. I’m out until I get a free sample. Not from Coachbuilt, not from the boy Button, but from a community pal. With no fringe benefits or freebies to feign gratitude for, I can tell them exactly how the sample they sent went down, with no danger of a huff. And I can tell you, honestly, too.
So, specifically when it comes to the enthusiasts, let’s ask why blends are perpetually at the whisky cow’s tail rather than enjoying an occasional pole position? Well, quite apart from the obvious omission of the kudos-laden phrase “single malt”, I think it’s because of opacity. Or perhaps – a lack of transparency. Ream off all the reasons you can to justify why we don’t – or shouldn’t – get to know what makes up these magical blends and every one of your retorts, to me as a whisky lover, will be like water off a teflon-feathered duck’s arse. I don’t care about closely-guarded secrets, perfect balance, skilled harmony and seductive mystery, I’d like to know please. Work within the SWA regs, yes, but it’s not difficult to share why it's a special liquid. Unless it isn’t. That’s why I’m into single malts. I like whisky a lot, and it helps, mostly, if I can understand why.
Add in the low ABV, lack of body, heavy use of cheap or young (or both!) grain whiskies, often cynical use of coloured-to-fit-expectation and a below average drinking experience and really you give me no reason to give you anything like the money I currently spend on malt. So, until blends get a real injection of reality from an inspired and direct creator, they’ll always be where they are; selling by the billion, yes, but hardly growing and hardly making anyone grateful to be alive. If such a creator comes along, I hope I’m quick enough on the uptake so I can claim to be one of their original fans before they were cool. In the meantime, we’ll stick to our malt.
Unless…
Can’t it be both? In this bottle of Glasshouse we have so little pomp on the packaging it’s almost laughable. A paper label with the minimum of words and straight-to-the-point what it is. Admittedly it’s difficult to read for Wally’s old and tired eyes, but my phone’s magnifier tells me that it exists thanks to Aeneas Coffey and that it’s intended for highballs. But there’s more. It’s non-chill filtered, it’s 46% ABV, it’s the product of a single Highland distillery and is made from 100% malted barley. OK. Now I’m paying attention. There’s no mention of colouring but if it has been added it’s been done with restraint. What we have here is a very interesting thing; a single blend. All malt. All those kudos-laden words are back, just not in the same sentence or order. There’s only one distillery that could do this so I’ll let you figure out for yourself that it’s Loch Lomond. They use their Coffey still malt and blend it with their in house pot still malt to create this pretty curious thing.
Full disclosure. This is my fourth bottle. I paid £32 for one but the other three were £26 each direct from Bezos’ Big World of Things Wrapped in Too Much Cardboard. I’ve tried it in highballs and can confirm it makes a fine and refreshing long drink, but I’ve also tried it neat and compared it directly to, among many others, the similarly priced Johnnie Walker Black. It makes the 12 year old classic taste acrid, flat and dull. Lights are being lit here. Things are starting to spin and fall into place. Has that coin found a new groove to slide into? One that doesn’t make you betray your old loyalties? Well, of course, interesting is easy. But it has to be good to be really interesting. Swipe aside the highball tumbler and deploy the 1920’s blender’s glass; this one deserves a listen.
“Theoretically, blends should be better than single malts”
Long fresh drinks
Review
100% blended malt, 46% ABV
£27.95 online
Spoilers. I’m going to review this very positively. The score is the score is the score, but please weave everything I’ve said into the resume and understand what this is; a damn good drink, available and inexpensive. Let me try to articulate what this tastes like, but the need-to-knows have been covered.
Nose
First time I’ve caught this obvious note – the blender’s glass at work – but a lovely fresh pop of lime Starburst (which will be relaunched as a nostalgic UK special release in the Opal Fruits branding once more - no joke!). There’s a clean effervescence with a light honey and oatcake backbone, with more freshness bringing notes of rosewater and some white-pepper – not enough to make you sneeze – a nice, light spice. Water brings an acidity I didn’t notice before, like sweet cider vinegar or sweet white wine, think Liebfraumilch (remember Blue Nun?) There’s also a chalky note. Despite being ‘grain’ there’s not a lot of that sweet grassiness and you may notice the 46% alcohol is very well in check. The takeaway here is that it’s light and fresh.
Palate
Light on the palate too. Fizzy with a light body. Slightly creamy lemon and lime; like cheesecake citrus, or merengue. Chalky confectionary develops like Edinburgh rock or – I know we have an international readership but we go with what we know – Love Hearts. The finish is rather short and drying and renders the citrus into a more grapefruit-y theme with the chalkiness remaining.
The Dregs
It will not not make you sing. It won’t make you cry. It may make you get up and dance along but by then you’ve possibly had too much. Yet I know this to be a good drink because I booby-trapped blind tastings with it all over winter and it was ridiculous how well it did. However, in these things, your brain is your enemy. When you know what this is you drink it as such. Weave it into your own blind tastings at home and see what I mean. At the price, it’s easily a 6/10. We can’t buy Bailie Nicol Jarvie any more, Compass Box Artist’s and Glasgow Blends are great but they ask for more money for less ABV and are easily met in terms of experience by this. This is the blend you are looking for. Not only is it interesting, you’ll ask the barman for change and drop another coin in the slot.
Score: 6/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. WM
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