Four Indies from Woodrow’s of Edinburgh | Various % ABV

Loyal Reader. First Time Contributor.

As introductions go, the pressure couldn’t be higher to live up to what I’ve come to enjoy as my gold-standard for whisky reviews.

But before I introduce myself and dive into my “Whisky Origin Story” let me clear something up. I don’t like the word “review”.

Well, at least not as far as whisky is concerned. The term is cold to me, lifeless, sterile. In today’s modern digital environment where I’m asked to rate all that I touch 5 stars or “leave a review” on everything from food delivery to my bank’s customer service – how can I reduce whisky to just another data point to be aggregated?

After all, we're talking whisky here. The Water of Life, uisge beatha, aqua vitae, John Barleycorn. With all its rich history – both real and romantic – not to mention the people who produce it, the community it creates, the emotions stirred by the pop of a cork, the anticipation of a new bottle or the ritual of glass-to-nose, the memories stirred as notes and aromas cling to nerves that trigger sensations in our brains. “Review” doesn’t come close.

Plus, to be a reviewer means to be a critic and who wants that.

But isn’t Dramface a review site? Is there a point to this negative rambling? Especially for an intro piece? Shouldn’t we be putting our “best foot forward” and all that?

There is, and it’s all positive from here on out.

See that’s what drove me to Dramface in the first place - if you’ll bear with me just a moment longer. My love of writing, despite having a job that requires it, has always taken a back seat to other responsibilities and the grind of daily life. I’ve stared at the blank page; I’ve experimented with other avenues but wasn’t inspired to spill ink or clack keys. Writing enterprises meant to inflame creativity sputtered out. Call it writers block or flat-out indifference, projects went by the wayside, pages went unfinished.

Then I discovered whisky. Then I discovered Dramface.

The Dramface “style” of personal stories and anecdotes wrapped around the poetry of whisky notes sang to me. These weren’t “reviews”, they were “write-ups”. Despite a simple 10 score still being attributed to the liquid (the best way to score in my opinion) the score itself – despite being very prominently displayed – was not the feature, not to me anyway. It was the humanity, the personal connection to the glass, or a collective sharing of the experience.

Dramface wasn’t just a ratings showcase or data warehouse for bottles. Each pour had a story. Even the lowliest dram deserves its time under the blue lights of a laptop or phone screen for the masses. A decision to buy or pursue a bottle isn’t just tied to a number; but a story, with reasoning and wordsmithing behind it. Everything is personal.

This is how whisky is to me.

Going from casual whisky drinker to full-fledged “whisky botherer” has been a few years in the making. A path that started during what’s been an immense period of transition in my life. Moving on from trauma and personal demons to pursuing my passions and “growth through whisky” – again, bear with me.

From the first time I detected “notes” in a glass – I mean really detected, not “smells like booze and maybe apples,” it was over from there. I have a trip to Scotland to thank for that. Three days alone on a bucket-list-type trip that changed my life. The tasting flights, the discovery, the way bartenders raved about this distillery or that, the patience they had dealing with just another wide-eyed American whisky tourist – the people!

Then everything came together. A new project was built around writing as a creative outlet (which brings real happiness), learning how to use a camera, challenging my senses, finding and building community around whisky in a place 5,200 miles from where it’s created, matured, bottled, and sold.

It fit in a way that nothing had before. I’d been feeling rudderless and uninspired, now I felt focus. Growth through whisky? A silly concept truly when you think about it. I read every book, spent hours online researching history and lore. Expanding the collection (finding closet space for new bottles), comparing shipping rates. Nosing, tasting, nosing, tasting. Taking punts and sometimes missing but mostly hitting and feeling great about it. And, if you can believe it, drinking less. The point of being a botherer isn’t to drink more but to make them count.

Challenging my senses was the first part of personal growth. What stuck out from my reading was some sage advice from Dr. Rachel Barrie, master blender, who said simply (and I’m paraphrasing so excuse the brevity) “Train your nose, smell everything.” Our senses are like muscles, exercise them and they get stronger.

Especially our noses, once essential for survival, now relegated to simply alerting us if something smells “good” or “bad.” We’re much more likely to see someone take a photo of their food at a restaurant than get their face in there and sniff it. We’re an audio-visual society, no need for noses anymore.

Much to the chagrin of my (extremely supportive) partner I took that advice to heart. Going to the grocery store? Smell the fruit, the vegetables, the herbs, the meat section, the bakery. Out on a walk? Smell the grass, the dirt, the soil. At the beach? Inhale deep with eyes closed. “Oh, are you having a barbecue? Mind if I come over here and annoy you by putting my nose next to this grill?” “What kind of fire is that?” Apologies to everyone in my life, I promise I’m better for it.

And it worked! My love for whisky grew as its complexities deepened. The rites and rituals performed with nosing each glass sent electricity down my right arm, through fingers, into my pen and onto the pages of my “dram diary.” Writing and whisky had now become entwined. It was meditative, it was reflective, it was fun.

So much fun that what was I to do next but find community. Who can I share this with!?

A lasting impression from my Scotland trip was the malt shop and whisky bar tasting experience. Flights, small pours, tastings, Glencairns scattered by the dozens. Like most Americans my bar experience had been limited to shots, cocktails, pitchers, and glasses. I wanted to replicate that special experience for others.

Naturally, I decided to start pouring for friends, which turned into hosting home tastings. I joined local whisky clubs, found folks online, dove headfirst into the ethos of “Whisky Evangelism” – California style. I learned to pair it with cheeses, fruits, meats, and chocolate. The experience became an experience.

I started making friends -- wonderful people -- a nascent community in our backwater ‘burg far from the center of the whisky universe thousands of miles away. Synchronously occurring as I hoped to achieve another personal and professional goal: increased confidence and public speaking skills.

Did I mention I was actually drinking less?

So, there you have it. Growth through whisky.

There’s bottles to discuss somewhere; maybe get to that before attention wanes.

After hosting and writing about whisky on Instagram for some time I was inspired to host a “one year tasting anniversary” event. Something elevated for those I had met over the last several months – and to steal again from Dramface: something special.

The inspiration came in the form of a small independent bottler I had discovered through a wonderful Caol Ila recently enjoyed and shared. When they announced four new bottles for their Quarter 4, 2025 outturn once again, it all just came together.

And another convergence. It was the people who made the difference, not the whisky.

Guaranteed to sell out quickly as their releases were single cask offerings and they were a small bottler, I found a good retailer and took a punt on all four bottles (technically it was a five bottle release, more on that below.) A hunch based on previous experience, the reputation of the bottler, and the profile of these expressions all indicated that they were going to be good.

Featuring a small independent bottler and making their releases the core of the tasting event lineup would help elevate the experience and provide a good story for the guests. But it was when I reached out to them that the “people not the whisky” spirit really manifested itself.

Excited that someone in Long Beach, California knew who they were and was featuring them for a tasting, the husband and wife team that makes up 100% of Woodrow’s of Edinburgh became distant friends and pen-pals, sending along videos, photos, and check-ins as the event itself got closer.

Review 1/4

Ardnamurchan 7yo, 255 bottles produced from a first-fill bourbon barrel, 55% ABV
£79 still some availability

Woodrow’s of Edinburgh are a small “blender, bottler, and whisky specialist” according to their website. Woodrow’s motto on social media and from what I’ve seen from their banner at festivals is: “It’s no pish!” (I translated that this means it’s really good.)

Woody and Megan are the heart and soul of the operation – really the whole operation. As a collective they handle everything from storing the casks, rolling them between their two warehouses in Leith, to finishing, blending, bottling, labeling, delivering, and running their social media.

I asked them for an intro video to share and they graciously complied. The video was perfect. Roughly shot and edited, nothing slick to it at all, just people and whisky. Clad in giant coats and recorded from their warehouse, they complained about the Edinburgh weather and said they would rather be in California (it had been unseasonably warm, no complaints here), the video perfectly encapsulated the DIY mindset I was hoping to convey. They apologized for the low quality of the video, but to us they were stars.

Now the bottle.

As a self-proclaimed “Ardnamur-fan” (patent pending) seeing this bottle in their Q4 out turn was the first sign to go with the whole bunch. This was actually my first single cask Ardnamurchan expression and aside from last year’s AD/10 special release, my only other experience with unpeated Ardna’.

There was also exciting lore behind the cask itself. Woodrow’s had received the barrel with a large pentagram drawn on it in chalk. The metal fan in me was thrilled to try the devil’s own juice.

(The cask still lives according to Megan and is “currently somewhere in Belgium.”)

Score: 7/10

**Very Good Indeed.**
***TL;DR***
*A naked portrait of this always-good coastal Highland distillery*

Nose

Initially I found the nose to be a little closed. But with time a nice play developed between heavy first-fill bourbon cask notes and Ardnamurchan’s signature earthy, coastal distillate. Fresh ripe pears and vanilla frosting at the front. Creamy custard. Honey granola. Banana bread. Runts candy. Sugary, Apple Jacks cereal. Mangoes. Salt spray on a rocky beach but the salinity is subtle and resides in the background. Water brings less fruits and more salted caramel and hints of cinnamon spice. Haygrass. Motts applesauce. Wheat bread. I preferred the liveliness of the nose neat.

Palate

Oily and juicy with a slight dirty earthiness around the edges. Donut glaze, more salted caramel, and fresh apples. Vanilla cake. Buttered brioche bread. Water brings sweet fruitiness like dole fruit cup syrup. Medium-long finish with light drying saltiness at the end. An enjoyable dram that I appreciated more and more with each pour as the bottle level came down.

The Dregs

I have such an autobiographical connection to Ardnamurchan from my short sojourn in Scotland. The way people talked about them as they poured it felt like the distillery everyone had in their back pocket. And I loved the juice. Every bottle I’ve tried is good and I regularly share them with friends as a way to create new “Ardnamur-fans” (patent still pending).

So far so good. Unpeated single cask Ardna from a bourbon barrel. It’s lovely to see the layers really stripped back and the whisky lived up to the hype in my mind. I’m excited for when we start to see 10,12, 14 year single casks from them in the future.

Score: 7/10

Review 2/4

“Burnside” (Teaspooned Balvenie) 14 yo, 330 bottles matured in a refill bourbon barrel and finished in a Tawny Port Cask, 52% ABV
£75 still some availability

This bottle actually has a twin. Woodrow’s bottled two “Burnside” casks (an industry name for teaspooned Balvenie) a ruby and a tawny port finish. I eenie-meenie-minie-moe’d this one and ended up with the tawny port bottle. I’ve also recently opened the Glencadam Reserva De Porto Tawny, which I’d been enjoying, so I was becoming familiar with the profile and looking forward to the comparison (which is unfair for a number of reasons).

Some folks I had shared them with had found the port casks to be too sweet while others couldn’t get enough. I was in the latter, I’m finding port casks to offer a unique spectrum of sweetness that differs from other finishes, plus the nice orange tint adds something a little different.

I’ll admit that Balvenie is not a distillery I’ve gravitated to and this was my first experience with an independently bottled ‘Balvenie’ at higher proof. The OB’s I’ve had were underwhelming and I’ve never acquired a bottle, this felt like a good opportunity to give them a bit of a redemption tour.

Adding a bit of intrigue, Woodrow’s has since had to redact the “Burnside” on their labels for these bottlings. Another company I won’t mention claimed the copyright. Since I’m far away from all of that, no redactions here.

Score: 6/10

**Good stuff.**
***TL;DR***
*A better Balvenie than what I’ve tried. Cask forward. Candy sweetness abounds*

Nose

“Candy in a glass.” Sugary sweet hard candy, fruit by the foot, cherry Jolly Rancher. A nice malty backbone keeps this from being too one-dimensional. There’s also juicy watermelon, fresh oranges, and grapefruit. Airheads. Water brings green table grapes, and pink bubble gum.

Palate

More malty than the nose and a very nice dram on the palate but not as coating and thick as the Ardnamurchan. Jelly glazed donut. Pineapple. Starburst. Green grapes again. Water brings Maraschino cherries and hints of sour candy. There’s blueberry muffins on the finish and cherry Pop Tarts.

The Dregs

Well, I’d say Balvenie earned its place on the redemption tour. I like this, the maltiness and sweetness worked well together. Others I shared this with really enjoyed the bottle and I poured some samples for those to whom this was their favorite. I continue to like port cask whiskies and think it offers a unique experience, but this one just doesn’t hit that next gear on the way toward “Very Good Indeed.” Definitely good stuff

Score: 6/10

Review 3/4

Dailuaine 17 yo, 155 bottles matured in a refill bourbon barrel and finished in a single ex-Mortlach Oloroso sherry hogshead, 58.7% ABV
£89 still some availability

Dailuaine is another distillery I’ve gravitated to and the distinctness of this bottle already made it seem well worth the punt. Also, something about the romance of Mortlach and Dailuaine; two Diageo workhorses with unique profiles that often shine as single malts, a union of two houses, a marriage meant to strengthen the realm.

Dailuaine to me has a distillate that works well regardless of cask and this bottle stands out. “Scotch from a scotch cask,” is not something we often see in our corner of the whiskyverse.

Score: 8/10

**Something special.**
***TL;DR***
*Combination of two workhorses that totally works. Heavy, mature, and rich*

Nose

Rich, complex, weighty, and layered. It’s a little spirit forward and one word I’d use to describe this dram is “heavy,” but everything is well-integrated. The more this opened up the more special I realized this is (I plan to preserve and savor every drop). Arriving with faint sherry notes like dried oranges, raisins, red apples, and fruitcake along with almond nuttiness, there’s also an oily depth beyond those initial impressions. Syrupy. Meaty.

A light, metallic industrial funk but also lovely, floral lavender over that with some hints of minerality and farminess. Old oak and dark wood. Pecan pie. Flour & bake shop. Tang. Water brings hot buttered rum, strawberry cheesecake, honey lemon tea, and cherry cordials. Gorgeous.

Palate

More weightiness and a touch more of that industrial funkiness. A thick, mouth-coating and savory dram with a tremendous mouth feel. Malty and lemony. Lemon tart or lemon bars. Strawberry jam. Water brings creamy vanilla, cinnamon roll, butter pecan ice cream and butterfinger candy bar. Yellow egg bread on the finish with hints of dark chocolate chips and buttered toast. A real treat.

The Dregs

Wow. They’re mad scientists over there at Woodrow’s marrying this Dailuaine with a sherried Mortlach cask. Whatever schemes they contrived to bring these two together it totally worked.

Each dram brought new levels of engagement. A stunning whisky. At 17 years this is the “oldest” of the bunch and perhaps that’s apparent in its depth and complexity. The sherried notes are faint but this feels more distillate driven, heavy and funky, perhaps the two distillates dancing together, but also floral and sweet. Very unique. The more pours I have the more it might be my favorite from the group. This is a dram meant to be savored and shared. A home run.

Score: 8/10

Review 4/4

Laphroaig. 13 yo, 263 bottles matured in a refill bourbon barrel and finished in a single French Oak Oloroso Sherry cask, 58.6% ABV
£109 still some availability

I’ll admit that I was a little late to the Laphroaig party. Proof that community makes whisky better.

While some I know embraced their unique smoky signatures early in their whisky journey, mine was one of a thousand steps. Through sharing and growing our whisky community I encountered some true Laphroaig ride-or-die devotees – whose enthusiasm and connection to the spirit was contagious. I couldn’t deny my curiosity to find engagement where once there was casual indifference. Maybe I just hadn’t found the right bottle?

Earlier in the year I had come across a great deal on a single cask virgin French Oak OB Laphroaig special release, could this be the one? Boy did that bottle sing. I get it now. Call me a “Friend” of Laphroaig. Something about that distillate in French Oak produces magic. So the opportunity for a sherried French Oak bottle at a decent 13 years was another sign this outturn was worth the exploration.

According to Megan they had sampled from the cask two years previously and it tasted like “wet dog.” So something happened in those two years of maturation that turned their wet dog into a Best in Show.

Score: 8/10

**Something special.**
***TL;DR***
*Everything you want in a Laphroaig. Smoky, coastal, with plenty of sweetness*

Nose

This is a beautiful Laphroaig. Aromas of cookfire layered with rich barbecued meats. Roasted lechon. Peppersteak with gravy. Earthy, briny, and vegetal. Seaweed. Coal smoke. Rubber balls and band aids. Seasoning salt. Railroad ties. Charred logs.

Beyond that lies a lovely sweetness. Kettle corn. Red Apples. Burnt toffee. Cinnamon red hots. Another well-integrated and balanced dram. The alcohol is subtle. Water brings savory barbecue sauce, buffalo wings, maple brown sugar, charcoal briquettes under a cold grill, carmelized apples, and ketchup on hot dogs.

Palate

Another heavy dram. More indulgent smoky richness. Chocolatey. Rubbery. Thick and coating mouthfeel that doesn’t betray the high ABV. Fruitier than the nose. Smoky red fruits and red Mexican candy. Some damp, sea-shore mustiness. Water brings Chocolate covered strawberries and Hershey’s chocolate syrup. Al pastor. A long finish with ashy sootiness lingering in the back.

The Dregs

Compared to the Dailuaine this one needed less time to open up. I knew right away this one was something special. I consider myself damn fortunate to have been able to secure two single cask Laphroaigs in French Oak back-to-back. More “mad scientist” stuff from the folks at Woodrow’s to see the potential for this given more maturation after the “wet dog” episode at age 11. This one is the more expensive of the bunch and might be a little high for some (if you can still find a bottle) but single cask Laphroaigs don’t come across as often as other distilleries, especially matured in French Oak, so for whisky this good it’s definitely worth it.

Score: 8/10

The Final Dregs

Now to paraphrase one of the greatest UK singers: “I’d like to thank you on behalf of the group and myself and I hope I passed the audition!”

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

This is a Friday First: a debut piece for Archie. We hope you’ll join us in welcoming him into the Dramface community in the comments below…

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