Bimber Bourbon Cask
2020 Release, Cask 15 | 58.1% ABV
Score: 6/10
Good stuff.
TL;DR
Decent, but not the exceptional bourbon cask I’d hoped
Step into Christmas
We’ve stepped into December and Scotland has already shown us its winter character. Mornings begin with frozen windscreens and pavements that demand careful footing, yet there are also those crisp, clear days when the low sun cuts through the cold and makes the shortened hours feel brighter. By half past four in the afternoon, darkness has settled in, nudging us toward hibernation mode.
Since early November, Christmas trees and festive illuminations have sprung up across towns and villages as neighbours enter into the annual Christmas arms race. It’s hard not to sound curmudgeonly when you mutter that it all seems to start earlier each year. The truth is, the season stretches longer now than it ever did and, while the glow of fairy lights is undeniably cheerful, there’s a nostalgia for when anticipation was more concentrated, more fleeting. My wife uses our youngest child as the reason to have the decorations up before we even hit December, but we all know it is for Mrs Campbell and her unshakeable love of tinsel.
By October, adverts for advent calendars were already everywhere. Growing up, an advent calendar in the UK was a simple affair: behind each door, a picture, and perhaps - if you were lucky - a chocolate behind the Christmas Eve door. That was a distinctly 20th-century tradition. Now the market has evolved into something more competitive: adults are the target audience, and calendars are stuffed with luxury cosmetics or miniature wines that cost more than my first car.
And of course, there are the whisky advent calendars. This category has exploded in recent years, with options ranging from affordable introductions to eye-wateringly expensive collections of rare drams. Some are curated by independent bottlers, others by big-name retailers, and they offer everything from peaty Islay classics to obscure single casks. For enthusiasts, they’re possibly a way to explore breadth and depth without committing to full bottles; for novices, they’re a gateway into the culture of whisky itself.
I’ve looked at these types of advent calendars for a few years but I have never committed to pulling the trigger. I’ve been signed up for postal tasting subscriptions before and to be honest I have always been disappointed at the quality or originality of what has come through the letterbox, which I think has put me off. Some have definitely lacked inventiveness.
So, this year, I decided to create my own whisky advent calendar for some family and friends. Not everyone I invited on this endeavour was keen - some politely declined on the grounds that whisky simply wasn’t their drink. The plan started off modestly: The Twelve Drams of Christmas. Twenty four seemed excessive, both to organise and to expect people to tackle with enthusiasm.
But as bottling and labelling progressed, the dozen quickly grew. There was a need for variety – as we know, a non-whisky drinker just hasn’t found the whisky that is for them yet.
So in this little selection there was a need for variation. There is peated and unpeated, bourbon cask and sherried, Scotch, American and even an English whisky. There is malt, grain, rye and a blend. We visit Islay, Speyside, the Wee Toon, Glasgow, Arran as well as England and the USA. It is a proper tour - without the jet lag. I have even thrown in some colouring and chill-filtration. And of course, there is a super heavy peated on the basis that Octomore is exactly what all these participants think I consume on a nightly basis, by the gallon.
So a few additions crept in, and before long the project had become “The Seventeen Drams of Christmas” and then finally it landed on the “Nineteen Drams of Christmas” – mainly because there was an intention to start it on Saturday 6th December and 19 would take things up to Christmas Eve. That’s where it stops—nineteen feels like a sweet spot.
Most of those taking part are whisky novices. With that in mind, I resisted the temptation to go too esoteric. As much as I’d have loved to slip in Torabhaigs, Ardnahoe, Dornoch, the safer choice was to lean toward accessible, recognisable names, with just enough variety to spark curiosity.
Here’s the final line-up:
The joy of this project isn’t just in the whisky itself, but in the shared experience. For novices, it’s a guided tour through styles and regions. For me, it’s a chance to spark conversations, compare notes, and maybe ignite a passion for whisky in those who’ve never ventured far beyond supermarket shelves.
Nineteen drams may not be traditional, but they’re enough to carry us through December’s long nights, from frozen mornings to festive gatherings, with a glass in hand and stories to share.
Review
Bimber Bourbon Cask, Single Cask, Cask 15, 2020 release, 2016 distilled, 58.1% ABV
£234 currently, but picked up at auction for £40
With the season of goodwill upon us, I thought it was the perfect moment to surrender my English-whisky-review virginity and write up something on one of the few English whiskies in my collection.
Bimber is a small West London distillery that states it sets out to make proper single-malt whisky the old-fashioned way. They run small batches, control the process from grain to glass, and favour hands-on, traditional techniques - think direct-fired pot stills and long fermentations - all aimed at producing a concentrated, fruit-forward spirit with a distinctly craft character.
This bottle is Bimber Single Cask No.15, an ex-bourbon cask laid down in 2016 and bottled in May 2020. A total of 264 bottles were filled from the cask; mine is No. 111. For a bourbon-matured whisky the colour is surprisingly deep, which immediately hints at a richer extraction than you might expect.
Score: 6/10
Good stuff.
TL;DR
Decent, but not the exceptional bourbon cask I’d hoped
Nose
The nose is pleasant; it is heavy on cherry and notes of sweet vanilla fudge. You get a bit of wood along with a touch of a latte. There is a hint of orange at the back and a hint of smoke that doesn’t follow through to the taste.
Palate
On the initial sip my first thought was it tastes a bit young and would benefit from some further smoothing in the cask. I felt contradictory, on the one hand it seemed quite mellow but also very spirit forward and new-make like.
It is fruity for sure - loads of apple, a touch of lemon and some over-ripe bananas alongside a bit of cherry. It is a touch sweet and there are the expected oaky vanilla notes with some honey. There is some ginger in there and a little cinnamon. Notes of tobacco too with the woody notes. The finish is medium to long; it has spice on the finish but quickly becomes overly drying, with a bitter taste and too reminiscent of coffee grinds.
It doesn’t taste like the 58.1% that it actually is, but it does seem around 50%.
The Dregs
I was genuinely excited to crack this open - Bimber isn’t a distillery I’ve spent much time with, but at the price I paid I thought I’d stumbled onto something good. And, in truth, it’s a good bourbon cask whisky… but not a great one. On the first couple of pours I thought it might blossom into something exceptional, but instead it seemed to age backwards in my estimation as the bottle went down.
Now, the current online price of £234 is enough to make your eyes water faster than a neat dram of Octomore. At that level, I wouldn’t touch it with a bargepole. But at the £40 I paid? That’s not just good value - that’s daylight robbery in my favour. It’s added a quirky note to my collection, though it hasn’t exactly converted me into a Bimber evangelist.
The distillery seems keen on cultivating a “collectables” aura - their London Underground series practically screams “limited edition, please hoard me.” I can’t say if that is at the expense of the liquid inside or not, but snagging this bottle at auction for forty quid feels like my biggest whisky bargain yet.
As a proud Scot, I did wonder if my rating was subconsciously harsher because it’s English whisky rather than Scotch. But honestly, I don’t think so. I’d have to have tasted it blind from the start to be sure - and if I did, I suspect my palate would still say “good, not great.”
For a bit of festive fun, I’ve slipped this into the Advent Calendars alongside a Glencairn glass for everyone (because let’s face it, assuming people already own one is risky business). Hopefully folk enjoy sampling the drams and sharing their thoughts. Maybe one or two will be converted into whisky fans. Either way, it’s been a laugh setting it up, and it’ll be even better sharing the journey.
Score: 6/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. CC
-
Dramface is free.
Its fierce independence and community-focused content is funded by that same community. We don’t do ads, sponsorships or paid-for content. If you like what we do you can support us by becoming a Dramface member for the price of a magazine.
However, if you’ve found a particular article valuable, you also have the option to make a direct donation to the writer, here: buy me a dram - you’d make their day. Thank you.
For more on Dramface and our funding read our about page here.
