Glen Scotia 18yo Single Cask
2022 Malts Festival Release | 50.9% ABV
Score: 9/10
Exceptional.
TL;DR
A time-machine that has made me smile from dram one to shaking out the last drops
Objectively speaking
You know a whisky is really good when, occasionally, as you return to the empty glass some hours after finishing it, the aromas radiating from within are sublime.
This isn’t a litmus test and not something you need to try with many whiskies – no one needs to have unwashed Glencairns lying about in the hope of the whisky revealing itself. I write this for a couple of reasons: firstly, this is definitely the case with this whisky, and secondly, it is yet another reminder that whisky is such a personal thing.
One of my first jobs was to collate tasting notes written by Michael Jackson [and one other writer, but that’s not important for this story]. Hopefully, knowing Dramface’s learned crowd, that name conjures up the beer and whisky writer, and not you-know-who-hoo.
Michael enjoyed writing notes that were so personal and, frankly, arbitrary, that editing was at times irksome. It was well over twenty-five years ago, so I make no apology that I can’t remember the individual incidents – there were many, but never egregious. One was certainly ‘Turkish Lemons’ and another one, that I think I edited out, was ‘This whisky is best enjoyed by pouring in a glass and left until after you’ve had a hot lavender bath’. As a serving suggestion, I felt this was a touch too much.
I’ve also never really liked one person telling others how best to enjoy a whisky – not that Michael was in any way caught up in his own self-belief or expertise. Actually, quite the contrary.
Michael was a busy man, and not the fastest writer, and likely these notes were constructed rather hastily – whatever came to mind went onto paper. Before anyone writes in, this is not criticism. Again, quite the contrary. I prefer sweeping notes, quickly considered, quickly conjured. I don’t mind at all those who enjoy whisky in a cerebral, minutiae-laboured manner either – they just tend to make poor drinking companions. It will always be subjective, not objective.
Actually, this reminds me of a letter I once received whilst I was collating Michael’s notes. Someone asked why the notes couldn’t be more objectively constructed. I replied that that would result in the following tasting notes: ‘This is definitely a whisky.” Anyway, you do you, and do what makes you smile. Michael was always smiling; he was a genial, convivial bloke.
Changing my point slightly, I apologise for my recent absence on these pages. I have been toiling over a project that has vexed my synapses and, as Hercule Poirot would have stated, ‘taxed my little grey cells’. I am coming towards the end of this project, which I will call ‘first stage’. The second stage will not be started until the nights begin drawing in earlier. For me, at least, it has been fascinating stuff, but I’ve had to learn a new style – writing with an argument – that has been tough when what I really like to do is just write.
But, in a way, everything we write is a form of argument or discussion – even if it is just an outpouring of inner monologue. My pieces within Dramface have often been attempts to argue points, get across messages and/or open up subjects for discussion. My opinion isn’t always right or nuanced enough, granted. I’m no sage or oracle.
But I hope I follow in my fellow Yorkshireman’s footsteps (Michael was born in Wetherby) in that when I write and talk about whisky, it is from a place of passion, a position of some knowledge but with a mind open to persuasion, open to new information, new experiences and never with a belief that I know best. After all, and I hope I can speak for all of us here, the great whisky-appreciation-journey that we are all on is simply one of new experiences, shared or otherwise.
Review
Glen Scotia 18 year old, 2022 Campbeltown Malts Festival Edition, Heavily Peated refill American Oak, finished in refill Oloroso hogshead, Single Cask no: 19/57-73, 221 bottles, Distilled 2004, Bottled 2022, 50.9% ABV
Bought at the distillery; I think I paid £150, but maybe £180, now secondary only
Score: 9/10
Exceptional.
TL;DR
A time-machine that has made me smile from dram one to shaking out the last drops
Nose
Obviously Turkish lemons… Seriously though where to begin?
The peat is thick and sooty; industrial. I get a sense of furnaces, oil, burners, peat shiels, shovels, sweat and toil. The sweetness of the Oloroso lies over the soot, like a comfort blanket, soothing the blood, sweat and tears that went into the production.
There is a crisp maltiness, like freshly made toast, mixed with those smells you get in the roof of a kiln. Intermingled is a stewed-fruitiness, like a strudel. But there is also a freshness – a sea breeze; that outside air coming in when a window or door is opened on a cold night. I need to taste it now as I’m clearly having a moment.
Palate
The sweetness does not overpower, and that is likely testament to this being a refill Oloroso, not a first-fill. Instead, the smokiness is allowed to push through and with it those big fruity flavours, slightly more raisiny now, but still with that strudel-dessert-like quality. A salty tang smacks the side of the tongue and lingers, and lingers and lingers. There is an undeniable funkiness to this, but it is playful and charming – not a hint of sulphur, egg or rubber. Not an element of this whisky disappoints.
The Dregs
There are times when I get overly caught up in how well independent bottlers do something and then don’t give enough credit to the distilleries when their own limited-edition bottlings are home runs. This bottling is one of those – as if you couldn’t tell from how much I have enjoyed it prior to writing this review.
I have savoured every single drop of this, from the neck pour to what now, sadly, is the last glass or two. Each sip has transported me back to Campbeltown and evoked a bygone era of distilling. Something about this dram that, (and, for me, only bottlings from Springbank and Ardnamurchan can achieve this) allows me to dream that I am tasting similar whisky to our Victorian (and earlier) forefathers.
I absolutely love this bottling, and whilst it is certainly a ‘mood’ whisky, I wish, oh how I wish, I had been able to buy more of it at the time. More of this, please, Glen Scotia. Much more.
Score: 9/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. FF
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What’s your own personal top distilleries?
At the point of this article’s publication, Glen Scotia currently sits in position #7 in the Dramface Top 40.
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