Natural Strength & Cask Strength Series | various ABV

Whisky meets us where we’re at

I’ll confess that I’ve been a wee bit AWOL from my duties at Dramface HQ lately. Well, I say “duties.” Fearless leader Wally has always given us strict marching orders to only write when we’re inspired to write…which are, of course, the best marching orders one could have writing for a place like this.

My absence hasn’t been for lack of interest, but mainly time and headspace: family affairs, home repairs, hanging with friends, partner on the mend, and more. Spending more time outside, even though it’s often been bone-chillingly cold here in bonny Scotland this winter, has also been higher on the agenda.

I’ve always spent a lot of time outdoors – having grown up as a barefoot hayseed on a family farm in the American Midwest, and now slogging up Scottish Munros and down grand glens whenever I can. The outdoors has always been in my blood, and continues to be here in my adopted homeland.

But there’s another reason for my absence. There’s been a loose theme around here lately of reflection and checking in with oneself. Ogilvie, Archie, and Mason have all recently paused to take stock, check in, and ponder over the forks in the road of life and whisky. This winter I have followed in those footsteps and paused a bit more than usual recently. Both because I want to, and also because I need to.

I’ve always “paused” quite a lot. As a natural introvert, I’ve always needed a lot of alone time. I love people, I love a good time with a group of friends, and I love noisy conviviality – but in managed doses. Like many, I also need a lot of time to recharge. A lot of time. I always have.

When I was younger, I used to think that there was something just a little bit wrong with me. I seemed to need a lot more time alone than most of my friends did. Every few years you see stories about the “superpowers” of introverts. I always used to think it was instead my kryptonite, holding me back in spaces where others seemed to thrive.

Over the years, what I grew to realise was that this is simply how I’m put together. I learned to accept it, and even embrace it, because now I see it less as “holding me back” than what embracing it allows for: an intentional approach to self-respect and self-care that flows from simply recognizing what I need and when I need it.

That’s why I’ve always needed to pause a bit more than others. Just to be clear: I don’t think introverts are more reflective than extroverts. I’ve met plenty of extroverts who are astoundingly emotionally astute toward themselves and others. I’ve also met other introverts who are surprising in their lack of self-awareness. They come in all kinds, as they say, but whatever the reason, and whether you’re an extro or intro, pausing in this sense is almost always a healthy thing to do.

Life’s hardest tribulations often force pauses whether we want to or not, catching us off guard but also violently shaking us out of whatever routine or blinkered path we were walking down. Death, divorce, illness, and all the rest of life’s cruelties have a way of snapping things into focus and compelling us to stop, at least for a little while. But pausing of our own accord because we sense we need a pause, now that’s a recipe for some healthy self-care. And, maybe even growing as a human being – which, of course, is one of the principal reasons we are here.

This is why whisky is not only the world’s best spirit, but it’s also why it’s the perfect companion for a pause. Whisky meets us wherever we are: a wonderfully noisy festival, in a pub with a small group of friends, or quietly at home listening to music or relaxing with a partner. It meets us wherever we are and matches our pace while we’re there: distracted tasting while you move across the festival floor, a slower pace over chat with friends, and even slower contemplation at home. Whether it’s a festival as a mate grabs your arm to drag you to the next table to “taste this one!”, or winter months spent considering life’s forks, whisky is here to enrich our journey no matter what the pace.

Review 1/3

Bunnahabhain 12yo, ex-bourbon hogshead, distilled 2012, bottled August 2024, 1 of 270 bottles, 64.2% ABV
£65 paid, now sold out

A few of my companions during this winter’s pause have been this trio of Bunnahabhains from our friends at Cadenhead’s. I purchased two of these back in 2024 and the other last year. I’ve written before how much I love Bunna, but I’m far from an uncritical fanboy. I’ll confess that there’s little rhyme or reason to reviewing these three together, other than experiencing how three different permutations of the spirit (peated and unpeated, in this case) fare against each other. And the fact that I purchased them precisely because they are all permutations of a spirit I love.

Score: 4/10

**Some promise.**
***TL;DR***
*Not terrible at all, but from any angle, it’s still just too hot*

Nose

Grainy new-make spirit. Sugar cookies sitting in a grassy garden. Soft fruits; melon and apricot. A bit tight on the nose. With a few drops of water, a clearer waft of bakery fumes, dry lemon, and slight minerality.

Palate

Grainy and hot. Icing sugar, dry cookies, and slightly bitter orange peel. Pretty hot throughout the development and finish, albeit with some softness (soft fruits again) lurking behind the heat. In dire need of some water. With a spoonful of H20, more approachable with sweet lemon cake and saltier soft fruits. Water helps to round off some of the rough edges, but the heat tends to remain and overpowers the experience. A bit disappointing, despite going back to it over a couple of months.

Score: 4/10

Review 2/3

Bunnahabhain 13yo, Cadenhead’s Natural Strength Collection, Ruby Port cask (since 2019), distilled 2010, bottled February 2024, 1 of 294 bottles, 53.2% ABV
£70 paid, now sold out

Score: 6/10

**Good stuff.**
***TL;DR***
*A coastal, salty, nutty pleasant drinker*

Nose

Rich perfumed fruits, thick red grapes, raspberries, and a nice waft of coastal breeze.

Palate

Sweet dark berries, honey-infused jam, and slightly salty. Hints of the coastal nuttiness that is a signature of the spirit. Nice balance between the spirit and cask in this sense, but with the cask taking the lead more often than not. Does well without water (which dulls things a bit too much) and finishes with more of the coastal salty breeze.

Score: 6/10

Review 3/3

Bunnahabhain 11yo, Cadenhead’s Natural Strength Collection, Amontillado cask (since 2020), distilled 2013, bottled June 2025, 1 of 186 bottles, 55% ABV
£75 paid, now sold out

It’s worth noting that this spent 7 years in a bourbon cask before being ‘finished’ for nearly 5 years in an Amontillado cask.

Score: 8/10

**Something special.**
**TL;DR**
*Big, bold and fabulous; simply excellent*

Nose

Wow – barbecue sauce, meat gristle, and campfire fumes. Savoury lemon juice, singed grass, and salty coastal breeze downwind of a beef stock factory.

Palate

Flame-licked barbecue sauce, savoury, salty, pork crackling (pork rinds for my fellow Yanks) and liquid smoke. Grilled meat, smoked fruits, tobacco leaves growing on a rocky shore. Beef-stock infused smoked plums.

The coastal quality is here again and the Amontillado sherry finish adds such a distinct and bold twist to the spirit’s usual time spent in Oloroso.

The finish has been spot-on here: the bold peaty spirit stands up well to the cask, as both spin around hand-in-hand rather than fighting with each other. Big, heavy, bold, fabulous.

Score: 8/10

The Dregs

It’s been enjoyable tasting these, both side-by-side and individually over the last couple of months.

I purchased the bourbon cask bottle because it’s not a version of Bunna that you see very often. Unfortunately, this one was a rare miss by Cadenhead’s: it’s not bad, but seriously needs more time in the cask to allow for a longer conversation between cask and still-too-hot spirit.

The ruby port cask is much more enjoyable in comparison: a very pleasant drinker which is not too complex, but offers a nice cask-spirit balance with enough of the coastal-salty-nuttiness of the spirit for some meandering exploration.

The Amontillado cask, on the other hand: my goodness. Simply excellent all around. Now, I should say that this dram is right up my alley: heavy, a bit brash, and savoury. So, if that isn’t your kind of thing, you might find this dram a bit much. But, the balance here with the Amontillado sherry finish is superb, and offers a big, punchy, savoury Bunna that differs from every other Staoisha I’ve tried.

It’s nevertheless a welcome enrichment to thinking about what’s behind and imagining what’s possibly ahead. Whatever your kind of pause for whatever your reason, I wish you, fellow Dramfacers, a dram as good as this last one for your journey.

Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. DD

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