Bruichladdich Greener Still 15yo
Limited Release | 51.6% ABV
Score: 9/10
Exceptional.
TL;DR
As good as I’d hoped; can’t reach past it
I am obsessed with blind tasting.
Some may say I’m obsessed with whisky, generally, and that would be very fair: the liquid, its variety, complexity, possibilities… everything. Especially the good folk that arrive at its side. Folk like you.
But, the most fascinating single element is what it can do to our primary senses. The flavour, the texture - yes, but more so the visceral, cerebral intensity that can appear from a fresh glass of amber; it’s often truly remarkable. It can literally stop us dead in our tracks.
To me, it’s like absolutely nothing else I’ve tried, ever. And - being a curious sort - I’ve tried a lot of stuff.
This is so compelling to me that, when I try to explain myself to a casual enquirer, I can sound like an obsessive maniac. I need to work on ways to comfortably convey whiskies pleasure given the fact it’s - more often than not - seen as just another take on alcohol. I need to guard against becoming a whisky bore while doing so.
Except, I’m already a whisky bore.
I’ll share another example of betraying my obsession. When a non-whisky obsessed visitor arrives, sometimes, they’ll witness Wally’s Whisky Pit for the first time. This has become something of a guilty pleasure for me. Not in the sense of ‘look at all this stuff I have!’ - no, it’s actually a little uncomfortable to confess you have hundreds upon hundreds of open bottles in your stash. No, I have recently taken much pleasure out of the reactions. It’s often pure shock. Sometimes, they’ll immediately flash a look straight at me, in disbelief, in judgement. Perhaps concern.
I’m quick to point out that, if there were merits in their concerns, these bottles wouldn’t be here. They’d be emptied as they arrived. Gone. Yet, they exist, because I chase variety of flavour.
Once more I find myself in a position where I need to find succinct and easy-to-convey wording to share the understanding that no two whiskies on these saggy shelves taste alike and the majority of them taste much, much better than any whisky they’re likely to have been exposed to in their past.
Of course that’s not strictly true. Many of them actually taste very, very alike. My point is that even those that are similar display instant differences as soon as you sip them alongside each other. At this point I’m often asked if I can tell them apart; the suggestion being that, if I was poured one without the knowledge of what it was, could I identify it?
The truth here is, of course, no. Which makes everything feel a bit silly.
But then again, if you were to pour me something that stands out - or is a typical example of its distillery or style showing particularly obvious traits, well, maybe I could. In fact there are many bottles on the shelf I think I’d feel pretty confident about, but they’re in the minority.
If I were permitted to ask a few questions about age, region, alcohol strength and cask type, I’d hugely increase my chances of guessing correctly, but it would still be a game of knowledge combined with a little skill, as opposed to outright organoleptic excellence.
But of course, coming right back to the whole why-I’m-obsessed-with-the-blind-tasting thing, that’s purely focusing on me and my meagre abilities. The middling palate and olfactory kit I was born with has probably been abused over the years; it is what it is. Little can be done with that. Sure, I could do things to practice, to enhance it, but I prefer fun.
Besides, this whole blind tasting thing: let’s switch it around, let’s flip it, let’s make it less about us.
Because anyone, whatever their skill level, can use blind tasting to put the whisky on test. Which is something else entirely. And I’m not sure we do it enough.
Too often, we’re presented with something in advance: a label, a brand, a reputation, a cost, an expectation. Even before a drop has hit the glass, our brains begin to taste it. Preconceptions are potent.
But, when presented with nothing but a naked glass, we’re left to do one thing - taste it and assess it. We decide instantly if we like it - it’s the first thing that happens. If we’re allowed the time, we may sit with it and, as we settle, we have the opportunity to find fault or pleasure. We can change our minds. During this process, we may be distracted by trying to work out what it is, but the overriding drive is surely the level of enjoyment. We decide bad, bland, good or great.
I think this is why I love blind tasting so much.
For me, it’s less about focusing on demonstrating organoleptic prowess or skill, thankfully, and more about how intriguing and humbling the thing is as a flavour proposition.
This review is of a bottle introduced to me completely blind. It made my eyes pop.
Review
Bruichladdich Greener Still 15yo, Limited release, first-fill, ex-bourbon matured, 51.6% ABV
£120 paid, sold out domestically but still to arrive in other markets, some stocks remain at the distillery
I was pretty impressed by the confidence (humility?) from Bruichladdich earlier this year. They sent out little packs of what they were planning to release as celebratory bottles to mark their 25th year since their renaissance. These were sent in unmarked bottles, except for a code and ABV. A triple-pack of generous 100ml samples with no other details whatsoever. I shared the review back in May.
I was mightily impressed. They scored 7/10, 8/10 and 9/10. Respectively, they turned out to be the Old Skool 10yo (reviewed here by Nick, Ramsay and Murdo), the 14yo Yellow Submarine Reclassified (still to be reviewed by us) and today’s review; the Greener Still 15yo.
When these blind ‘sneak peeks’ arrived, to be armed only with the knowledge that they were distilled at Bruichladdich, was disarming. It immediately conveyed a sense of belief and confidence in what they were putting together.
Of all the releases, it was this, the third, that I was most eager to get my hands on. I watched the social feeds like a hawk. This was added to the top of the buy list. If I could afford it, I was having it. I’m a flavour chaser. I was not going to miss this.
Then I missed it.
But you know what? We have an amazing community. Upon hearing I’d missed out, one of our very own in the Dramface team; Fingal - confident he could secure another, passed his on to me. I returned home one day to find this perched on a shelf behind the storm door. Incredible. I was sorry I’d missed him. The hug would have been earnest indeed.
Now, would this live up to the memory of that sample? Well I suppose, since the score is the first thing you saw, you know already.
Here’s what Bruichladdich say:
“Distilled from a combination of Bere, Biodynamic and Organic barley, Bruichladdich Greener Still is designed to express both flavour and farming philosophy in the glass. Each barley varietal plays a distinct role. Soft florals on the nose, ripe orchard fruit and honeyed sweetness on the palate, and a velvety finish with a lick of vanilla and coastal freshness.
Matured for its entire 15-year maturation life in first-fill bourbon barrels, resting solely at the distillery on Islay. Greener Still honours our commitment to environmentally conscious growing and distilling”.
Score: 9/10
Exceptional.
TL;DR
As good as I’d hoped; can’t reach past it
Nose
Immediately floral, elderflower and honeysuckle. Waxy; candlewax and a creamy, buttery, oily quality. Stone fruit; apricot and peach, with fruit pastilles and green apple skin too. More floral notes appear with a drop of water, a whiff of salty seashore too - just a touch. Overall, the nose presents with a bouquet that’s all about the spirit with only a hint of toasted oak.
Palate
Even oiler and more robust than the palate suggested, this is big, plump and round. A cereal forward arrival brings creamy barley and oats, with a little spiced cinnamon and black pepper from the ABV. A drop of water tames this and helps deliver a basket of fruit. And what a basket it is, vibrant orchard, tropical, melon and stone fruits, green, yellow and red - all of it. It takes water wonderfully well and it’s fruity, floral accents are exaggerated with just a teaspoonful. However, its waxy, oily, textured elements are better preserved with either no water or just a few drops.
A cracking mineralic, velvety finish goads you into pouring another.
The Dregs
Overall, it feels less dunnage-like and dusty than I remember from the sample, I think my sense of refill hogsheads and ‘something older’ led me there, and that’s understandable, despite this wee dream being all from first-fill bourbs.
I’ve not been sipping very much whisky in the last few weeks, such has been my mood over summertime, but since this bottle has arrived I find myself taking Whisky Pit detours whenever it’s permitted. Wine and cold beers have been sidelined, even late-night mugs of tea, this is my new couch pour and the bottle has taken a battering. It has that lovely, dreamy mix of vibrance and boldness with layers of fruity, floral, coastal brilliance that can distract me in every single sip. You might say I’m a little obsessed.
While we’re on the topic of obsession, Bruichladdich was one of the first distilleries where I witnessed a fanboy dynamic. This was way back before they had a definable core range and were infamously scatter gunning releases like their life depended on it. Because it did.
There were people who simply loved the story of rebirth, and they loved the idea that they could be part of it. I got it completely. However, the hit rate - as a whisky release - was usually one good, one not-so-good. To be fair, this was true of both official releases and independents. It was a try-before-you-buy and therefore a pretty easy distillery for me to ignore, despite the obvious swell in their fanbase.
Still, ever since those days, there has always been a ‘Laddie somewhere on the shelf, but often languishing if I’m brutally honest with you. I have at least one bottle that’s been here for well over a decade, open and unloved. For me, at its worst, there was a lactic thread that could push past interesting and well into distracting - even when paired with a heavy-handed cask profile. While I’ve never owned a bottle of it tainted with baby-sick (odd note but it’s become to be understood as such) I have tasted them. Once more, easy to ignore.
Then, around eight or so years ago, a tour exposed me to the spirit they’d been making much more recently and, since their renaissance and continued investment - while keeping everything pretty basic and traditional, it was very encouraging. There were heritage and local grains, cleaner spirits with a lighter touch of their well-documented wine cask obsession. These examples were pure and heavy; oily and thick. Palate coating masterclasses in good Scotch whisky and enticing glimpses of their future.
It’s worthwhile pointing out that this trajectory of improvement has been nurtured despite a buyout in 2012 by Remy Cointreau. We were nervous about this, at the time, but I think - should we go by product development arcs since, it’s been a very positive thing. If we were to judge the distillery today through the three releases they’ve used to mark 25 years since their reopening, I’d say they’re in rude health.
While this Greener Still release is a celebration of there not-insignificant moves towards sustainability and responsibility (that B-Corp certification is NOT easy to get), it’s also a nod back to the Blacker Still (Oloroso), Redder Still (red wine) and Golder Still (ex-bourbon) releases of pre-Remy days. Today though, there’s a feeling that things are a lot less random, edgy and scattergun.
Generally, the contemporary core range and limited releases are more accessible and understandable. The brash, punkish aesthetic and graffiti-like colour palettes adorning unpredictable, wildly varied releases have been replaced by a calm, communicative and - dare I suggest - classier image in recent times.
Transparency remains a focus, however, and I hope the fans continue to be pleased. I think they must be, since the launch of the Dramface Top 40 Bruichladdich have never dropped out of the top five. The difference is that today, it’s not only for the obsessed. Anyone with an interest in single malt can taste the exceptional quality of anything pouring from a Bruichladdich-labelled bottle.
My love of the 18 year-old Re/Define release is documented here on these pages. I scored it an 8/10 and declared it “the best Laddie I’ve had’. Well, this beats it.
And it did so while tasting it blind.
Score: 9/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. WMc
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At the point of this article’s publication, Bruichladdich currently sits in position #3 in the Dramface Top 40.
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