While in Bowmore, JS, adc and I decide to spend an afternoon at the distillery. They have this No. 1 Vaults tasting that we are interested in, as well as a bar with general access. The weather is dreary today, so that is the perfect excuse.
Once in, we receive a welcome dram, and redeem a voucher for a chocolate-and-whisky pairing. The cottage we are staying at only gave us two, for some reason; we easily blag our way to a third.
But, as said, a welcome dram first.
Bowmore 10yo (40%, OB for travel retail, Spanish Oak Sherry Casks and Hogsheads, L4654, b. ca 2024): nose: even at this fairly-young age, many expressions of Bowmore have an allure, a certain elegance that other spirits can only dream of. This one has black leather sofas, classy dress shoes, the soft smoke scents of a smoking room the morning after, maybe smoked meats flirting with game. Then, we find ourselves in a mechanic's workshop, all engine grease and well-weathered tools, oily rags and stained overalls. Another minute, and it is black, tar-like honey spread on charcoal crackers. How interesting! Sniffing too eagerly gives away a sub-optimal alcohol integration, but, at 40%, it is doubtful that will cause grief further on. Next to that are cured orchard fruits, which is more cause for celebration. The second nose has dry, dusty, dark forest floor in autumn; it smells of humus, wild mushrooms, and dead leaves. A spoonful of Demerara sugar enters the scene incognito. Mouth: not quite flat, yet it could do with a higher ABV, in all fairness. That aside, we have smoked apples, wine-soaked apricots, and plump citrus (oranges, mandarines, tangerines). It has a growing note of toffee too, which may be a sign of E150a. Flat cola follows, a drop of cold coffee, cured blush-orange segments. The second sip welcomes more of the same citrus fruits, and adds marmalade to the lot -- smoked marmalade, to be precise. Citrus peels become more apparent upon chewing, which imparts a light bitterness that balances the sweeter side. Finish: pleasant, the heat is adequate for a breakfast dram, and the sweetness goes hand in hand. We have boozy toffee, burnt caramel, cola residue after boiling it off in a sauce pan. Not much smoke seems to survive thus far, if any. Only through retro-nasal olfaction does smoke tickle the back of the throat, gentle as a living-room fireplace's. The second gulp brings about toffee dunked in marmalade, and served in the smoking room. It is alright, this finish, yet not exactly memorable. The whole is more than decent, if not too exciting. 6/10 (I finally try this on 15/11/2024)
On the other side of the room, a couple of visitors are watching the direst of videos about whisky-making at Bowmore. It seems worse, even, than the one we saw in 2008 or 2003: around ten minutes long, entirely in slow-motion, and crippled by cliché phrases at every turn. The two start off very attentive (one is filming the film), then their interest stalls after a couple of minutes.
On our end, the whisky and chocolate are nice, a fitting mise-en-bouche.
Bowmore 18yo (43%, OB, 44 L011AA, b. ca 2024): nose: it is not particularly assertive. We have a distant smell of chargrilled meat, followed by kelp and freshwater algae, and moist clay or silt. But yeah, all that demands some work to be identified. There may be caramel-coated puffed wheat (the one with a frog as mascot) with a splash of water, also rather discreet. The second nose is as shy, if not more. A pinch of soil, roasted citrus... We are clutching at straws, here. Mouth: hardly bolder on the palate, it gives more of that moist earth and silt, now augmented with tree bark and mulch. Chewing adds grilled citrus peels, mandarins or clementines, and an old bicycle tube sprinkled with talcum powder. The second sip has duck à l'orange, the meat almost crispy, and the fruits baked to a point they are close to marmalade. Smoked tangerines, rehydrated smoked mixed peel. Is there any alcohol in this? Chewing gives away some orange liqueur, but if someone said it is 25%, I would believe it. Finish: short and soft, it pushes a little bit of fruit (mandarines and clementines again), and more rubber than the palate did. Interestingly, it feels a lot more watery than the 10yo, despite having a higher ABV. Truth be told, this one feels weak. The second gulp is even weaker. Sure, the stewed marmalade on a toast of burnt wood is pleasant enough (read: inoffensive), but it feels watery, today. A dram with a few decent points, but, all in all, it is not what tOMoH expects of an eighteen-year-old. 6/10 (I finally try this on 18/11/2024)
We have more than an hour to kill. We simply wait for time to pass in the tasting room, overlooking Loch Indaal.
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| Also, the museum, and various corridors are stuffed with interesting memorabilia |
Occasionally, we chat with other people in the lounge. At some point, an indigenous tentatively asks me:
tOMoH: "Belgian."
Indigenous: "That's the same, isn't it?"
tOMoH: "Are you English?"
[Indigenous looks distraught, terribly offended, and shakes her head]
tOMoH: "There you go."
Indigenous: "I'm so sorry!"
Then, the time comes for our No. 1 Vaults tasting.
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| This is for another, more-exclusive tour |
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| More-pedestrian tours only allow visitors a glimpse from behind glass |
Our guide shows us a handful of Mizunara casks and other eccentricities in the warehouse, and shares some anecdotes -- some well-known, others less so.
Then, we move into the tasting room, a cell inside the vaults itself. There, three casks await us.
Alongside us are two Americans and a Canadian who downs his drams as if they were timed.
Bowmore d.2006 (55.3%, Cask Sample, ex-Heaven Hill Bourbon Barrel, C#10226): nose: this has an unexpected mineral aspect, with lichen-covered pebbles and riverbed rocks. Deeper nosing sees distant banana and closer vanilla pods. The alcohol is clearly present without being aggressive, and there is a neat woody scent, even though calling it extractive would be unreasonable. Next are green beans steaming on the gas hob, a soft brush to polish shoes, and a strange-but-winning mix of floor wax and WD40 that betrays a petrolic character. That transforms with time, and we discover stewed greengages, olive oil, and chlorophyll-flavoured gum. Unlikely combination! Red boiled sweets rise up shortly thereafter. The second nose promises creamier things, such as pineapple yoghurt, kumquat purée, or squashed papaya served in a cardboard cup. Funnily enough, it also has a red-and-yellow inflatable floatation device. Mouth: sweet and chewy, this has "candied fruits" written all over it; candied papaya and pineapple cubes. Minimal chewing triggers an explosion of pink maracuja akin to Passoã, viscous, sweet, and exuberantly fruity. Perhaps it has hints of rubber, perhaps it is mixed peel, perhaps even liquorice. Whatever it is, it is so eclipsed by the maracuja that it might as well not be there at all. The second sip is just as ridiculous, in terms of maracuja intensity. It is passion-fruit-and-three-quarters, going straight for the jugular, acidic, sweet, and gorgeously fruity. Maybe we have mint lozenges too, now. Finish: aaaaah! it is one of those. On the way down, it is a pleasant dram from a Bourbon cask, gently fruity, milky with a spoonful of melted milk chocolate, but a little indistinct, all in all. Then, after a couple of seconds, maracuja rises from the depths, slaps you in the face two or three times, then runs away in a giggle, leaving the afore-mentioned milk chocolate pick up the slack. The second gulp swaps the chocolate for mint lozenges, but, really, it is maracuja's game again. It appears out of nowhere like a trump card, kicks everything off the board, then gallops out of view like a mischievous child. Formidable. 9/10 (I finally try this on 15/11/2024)
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| This wicker braid is to attract parasites, so they leave the staves in peace |
Bowmore d.2008 (58.3%, Cask Sample, re-racked into ex-Château Lagrange Wine Barrique in 2012, C#0000618): the influence of the wine is immense, and the result is an elegant, earthy, fruity, and softly-leathery impression that would not be out of place as a dinner beverage. Deeper nosing offers bold fruits, mostly purple (plums, blackberries, blush oranges), but also pointing at the tropical side of the scale, with some cured lychee. It soon brings us back to earth with a shovelful of fertile soil and plant pots (gerania come to mind, for some reason). The second nose introduces a hardened ball of dusty plasticine. Inexplicably, that fleetingly transforms into yellow maracuja. In no time at all, it returns to earth, blush orange and lychee. Mouth: a combination of blush-orange juice and pith (yes, it has a certain bitterness), and red wine. Chewing dials those notes to eleven, and adds unripe plums, cured quince, and dried banana slices soaked in sangria. It is earthy, still, a little tannic, and, especially, very fruity -- fruity as a wine can be, though; this is not a 1960s vintage. The second sip seems drier and bitterer, closer to desiccated elderberry and vine than to juicy fruit of any kind. Chewy purple cough drops make an appearance, at once sweet and peppery, above all with that lick of dark chemical fruit that those drops often have. Finish: an interesting association in the finish too. Here are yellow passion fruit, potting soil, (blush-)orange peels, and middle-aged staves. It wears its maturation very elegantly, and balances acidity, bitterness, and a sprinkle of sea salt with brio. Over time, pink-grapefruit rinds show up, fresh as well as wine-soaked. The second gulp is earthier yet, with potting soil turning into coffee grounds and powdered black cumin. It leaves the mouth well leather-dry, and gives the impression one has just sat through a castle banquet, in which game and wine were on endless supply. Retro-nasal olfaction discerns smoked orchard fruits -- apples, plums, pears. We have elderberry too, albeit in lower quantities. This is the sort of casks that should not be appealing to me, yet work a treat nevertheless. 8/10 (I finally try this on 13/11/2024)
Bowmore d.2005 (58.4%, Cask Sample, re-racked 2017 into Amontillado Sherry Cask, C#0000003): nose: this is a dustier number from the off, with dunnage warehouse, rancio, and, well, a thick layer of dust accumulating on old staves. Deeper nosing cranks up the wood with raw birch, acacia, or quercus alba so dry it has reached a fairly-generic "wood" smell. Shaking the glass wakes it up a little, and we find spicy white wood, with ginger and cinnamon. It has a hint of vanilla too, but a Bourbon cask this is not! A few minutes in, it turns sweeter: shortcrust pastry turning golden in the oven, pandoro and dead leaves, both rather in season. More breathing time and a bit of imagination add cured sultanas, which would mean panettone, if not black bun. It soon reverts to dusty wood, going as far as sawdust. The second nose has pineapple turnovers and waffles filled with a fruit custard of some kind, then it is birch branches cut in autumn, with some leaves still attached that are turning yellow. Lastly, it has honey-like polished furniture made of light wood. A whisper of smoke hovers in the background, so discreet most would miss it. Mouth: wow! this is sweet. Boozy syrup, fruit liqueur, soaked sultanas. It is never sickly, to be clear, but undeniably sweet. Swirling in the mouth brings wood spices back into the spotlight: cassia bark, cinnamon sticks, ground ginger that has lost its bite, ground mace, gingerbread. Persistence reveals cigar smoke and old cedarwood boxes, though it does not venture too far away from the sweetness of the attack. Is it some sort of jam or marmalade? The second sip seems even sweeter, and comes dangerously close to Irn Bru. Right before reaching that extreme, it does an about-turn and runs back to spicier things: stem ginger, mace-dusted jello. Well, it also has pineapple jam drenched in agar agar jelly, and Turkish delights covered in ginger powder. Finish: it is at its sweetest here, yet it remains spicy too. Stem ginger, candied apples, honey-infused wooden planks (why not?), candied yellow cherry tomatoes. It is also loaded with soaked sultanas and dried pineapple chunks, interestingly enough. The second gulp is in line, much woodier than the palate -- in a good way. Instead of an abundant sweetness, we have toasted white wood, the gentle spices that go with it, and a lingering echo of sultanas soaked in stem-ginger syrup. The death sees a note of lukewarm fruit stones, which adds a mild bitterness, alongside a comforting warmth. Another original one that should not be my thing, but is. 8/10 (I finally try this on 13/11/2024)
It is a good experience. Like every other place these days, they provide driver samples, and the whole represents good value for money, all things considered. We all leave with a ten-centilitre bottle of whichever cask we preferred, which we are invited to valinch ourselves (though not a sucking valinch). Fun times.
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| Valinchin' for a livin' |
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| After much argument, adc finally agrees to valinch her very own favourite herself |
adc tells me this is the best distillery tasting she has ever attended. A tell-tale sign she is tipsy. :-)
The session ends at the bar, where we can all choose one more dram out of three options.
Bowmore 19yo b.2024 (54.8%, OB Fèis Ìle Release, Virgin American Oak Barrels): nose: dark earth, damp potting soil baked dry, squashed berries (blackberries, elderberries, blackcurrants), and a dollop of plasticine. This bodes well! Shaking the glass makes it more ester-y and reveals an industrial cleaning agent for metals (WD40 on steroids, so to speak), black skylight blinds heated by the sun (which would mean a plastic, rubber, paraffin, or oilskin note), and even tarry sands. It being a Bowmore, none of those is unruly; one could spend a sunny afternoon on a quiet beach reading a book, and a new parasol would still smell like a new parasol, if the analogy makes sense. The more time passes, the more the plasticine and berries fuse to become a kind of berry-flavoured sweets in a Gummibärchen fashion. And then, the earthy undertones remain a pleasant supporter. The second nose is sweeter and plumper, hinting at a frangipane tart, the crust of which burnt in the tin mould, a little. It promises further berries, so, perhaps it is raspberry-jam frangipane tart. Suddenly, the tin mould in which it was baked morphs into a silicone mould, which is to say it becomes more rubbery and less metallic, if as warm. It also has droplets of bog water and nail varnish. It is unexpected, but adds to the overall complexity. Over time, it develops a smell of forest undergrowth in a heatwave. Mouth: the attack has a clear bite. Initially plasticine, that is but fleeting: soon, we find ourselves in Berryland, with potting soil dotted here and there. Chewing surprisingly unleashes a wave of smoke. Scorched earth, burnt plastic, and smoked shrubs, before berries grow in stature: prune relish, blackberry jam, smashed blackcurrant. The texture invites chewing, just as plasticine would. Fortunately, if it is relatively coating, it does not stick to the teeth, whereas plasticine does. The second sip comes in as chewy, then immediately turns more drying, like chewing on plasticine for too long, and ends up desiccating the mouth. Chewing opens new doors, with rusty boilers, furnaces, warmed black-leather handbags, smoked plums, rubbers of various kinds, and smoked blackened-banana skins. It also presents liquefied caramel, fudge, and berries, squashed, then charred. How original! Finish: big not brash, assertive not bold, this finish is a carefully-balanced display of dark berries (myrtles, blackberries, currants and prunes), and rubbery earth (potting soil, tarry clay) wrapped in a light veil of thin black smoke. A long finish that clings to the walls of the mouth, including the back wall, where it meets the throat. The second gulp offers a mini-punch of fruits, starting with charred pineapple, charred satsuma peel, torched banana and carambola, perhaps even grilled maracuja and fudge, then continues with embers splashed with caramel, and baked banana skins. After a while, piping-hot ink and melted crayons join the dance. In Bowmore fashion, it is obviously smoky, yet that is never the main instrument -- let alone the only one. A long and comforting finish that becomes richer with each gulp. Excellent stuff. 8/10 (I finally try this on 08/11/2024)
Bowmore 21yo Aston Martin Edition 4 (51.4%, OB Masters' Selection, Tawny Port American Oak + Oloroso Sherry Butt): nose: dried meadow flowers, faded-suede car seats, and a distant elegance suddenly give way to juicy pasture grass. There are hints of a bakery in the summer, the seats in its tasting room-slash-conservatory heated by the sun. It goes all delicate and subdued again, with car-body wax and flowers in a dried bunch (cornflowers, daisies, forget-me-nots, buttercups). Looking hard for it, one may well find a drop of petrol painting a rainbow in a puddle of water, as well as a spray of seawater. The second nose is brighter and airier, iodine-y, fruity and fresh, then it takes us back to car-body wax. In fact, the wax becomes more all-encompassing: soon, we have beeswax and propolis joining the party. Mouth: a very-salty entrance turns ever-so-slightly petrolic, sandy, and, upon chewing, clearly fruity. Slices of mango fallen in tarry sands, which removes none of their juice. It takes mere seconds for engine fumes to become perceptible, and it is very difficult to not think of an Aston Martin. Crazy the power that suggestion exerts on one's brain! More chewing emphasises the sandy mango, though. The second sip is mildly bitter, for an instant, yet it quickly returns to the ways of mango. One might think that mango, sand and, now, sea salt would not work, yet they do. And surprisingly convincingly too. Finish: that fruit turns into a combination of mango, peach and apricot, all pressed into a lovely nectar, and bottled with a spoonful of sand, and one of sea water. It is as if the bottling plant had an issue with its machines too: the whole is augmented with a lick of acrid smoke bordering on soot. The second gulp adds an unexpected dash of cold coffee, and some sugar to the dominant seawater-sand-cut-mango trio. Very original. As cavalier66 said at the weekend, I did not want to like this, because of its association with a car make, but here we are! 8/10 (I finally try this on 11/11/2024)
Bowmore 25yo 1997/2023 The Distiller's Anthology 02 (47.8%, OB The Distiller's Anthology, American Oak ex-Bourbon Casks, 2728b, b#0698): nose: it is hard to acknowledge this is from the same distillery as the above 21yo, based on the nose. It is vibrant and fresh, almost minty, and what fruit there is is of the citrus family. Calamansi, Sicilian lemon, yuzu, calamondin, hyuganatsu, Buddha's hand. It is also clearly salty in a preserved-lemon way. A minute of breathing compresses all that into thicker, fleshier fruits -- apricot and nectarine. Then, we have cosmetic powder and face moisturiser, with just a whisper of liquid body wash, or body milk. The second nose has a soft but clear whiff of air that has been trapped for years in a wooden box made of darker wood than a cigar box -- perhaps a cherrywood pen case. It gives this some gravitas, in any case. Lastly, we have citrus foliage, lemon, calamansi, or even mandarine. Mouth: ooft! Here, we welcome citrus in full force, fruity and (gently) acidic, yet also milky. Pineapple milk, white-grapefruit yoghurt, calamansi purée. Chewing increases that milky-creamy feel, while underlining the citrus chunks too. Pomelo, Shaddock, limequat, yuzu, but also papaya, and pineapple becomes bolder too. If such thing as a white pineapple exists, it must taste like this. Time on the tongue gives it a conifer side, with the freshness of pine needles, yet it is much sweeter than that. The second sip seems more acidic yet, if not wanting in the sweetness department. More of that citrus-y goodness, in other words, with mango rearing its head in the background. This is incredible. Finish: here, at last, we spot a minute whorl of smoke. Nothing in common with a rugged brute, mind! Picture a breakfast eating fruit yoghurt in a clearing of a pine forest, sitting by the dying campfire. It even has a couple of raspberries in that yoghurt. The second gulp doubles down on the fruits (maybe it even does away with the yoghurt, at this point), and adds dried twigs and cut branches to the equation, ready to be burnt. Retro-nasal olfaction is submerged by citrus (tangerines, mandarines, clementines), and the tongue is left throbbing from all the citric acid. It has its fair share of citrus foliage, meaning a tame bitterness, yet the naturally-sweet fruits own the place, really. Long after swallowing, a perfectly-controlled burst of thick wood smoke calmly settles in the mouth. Outstanding. 9/10 (I Finally try this on 11/11/2024)
We all have a few more before raiding the shop.
Bowmore 23yo b.2023 Lovers Transformed (50.9%, OB travel retail exclusive, Refill PX + Oloroso-seasoned European Oak, 8000b): nose: berries fallen onto damp earth. It is not particularly expressive, on this cold November Rain day. Cupping and shaking the glass turns the earth into lukewarm modelling clay, adds a drop of Royal Blue ink, and a faint whiff of smoke. With time, the clay becomes oasis floral foam in a planter, with violets growing in it. It is subtle, yet probably enough to deter the hordes of FWP haters. Yes, the earthy touch from the start has definitely taken a turn towards petrochemical products -- plastic planters, or floral foam. Do they still use that, in horticulture? I have not seen it since the 1980s. The afore-mentioned smoke is relegated to the vapours of a tame coffee pot, and indistinct boiled sweets join the party. The second nose has boiled salsify, and what appears to be lavender-scented syrup. Tilting the glass, we reunite with foam, this time from new sports shoes, or a new car. Mouth: smoked violet boiled sweets. It bothers even me. It is hugely bitter, perfume-y, teeming with Parma Violet, which, it is painfully obvious in this particular case, is immensely inferior to its rock-hard, crystallised, Continental counterpart. Chewing releases more smoked violet candy, grated ash, and a flowery bitterness. The second sip is worse, if anything. Not only is it full-on cheap violet sweets, it also feels watery. For a cask-strength dram taken on its own, that is disappointing. More violets, little smoke, even less earth. Perhaps we find smoked preserved-lemon rinds too. Finish: redemption? No chance! It is more of the same, really, with Parma Violets, gently smoked, and cheap perfume. It does not leave a great taste in the mouth, rather a bitter one. Flowery to the max, and not in a good way. tOMoH is normally not that negatively affected by the well-known French-Whore Perfume, but this simply does not work, today. It did not feel that offensive at the distillery, so the sequence (a sequence) may help it. Repeated sipping brings a little citrus action, mandarine peels or so, but little pleasure: it remains a watery Parma-Violet deluge, for the most part, with the added bitterness of flower stems, and softly-acrid smoke. This is not for me. 5/10 (I finally try this on 22/11/2024)
Bowmore 24yo The Dragon's Prey (50.7%, OB travel retail exclusive, Bordeaux Red Wine Casks + Merlot Finished Barriques + Manzanilla Barrels + Oloroso Sherry Casks, 8330b): another label design by Frank Quitely, as was the 23yo above. Nose: a thin veil of smoky bunches of dried flowers and crispy onion skins, so dry they start to peel off the bulb. When it comes to flowers, we have lavender, heather, cornflowers, all so dry their floweriness can easily be missed. Colour-pencil-lead shavings, decades-old erasers, worn out, hardened, and pretty much useless. It has some botanicals and aromatic herbs too, harder to decipher. Sage? Thyme? Oregano? Rosemary? Not really. Ground mace? That is closer. It has a thin coat of wax, this nose, so mace is a good guess, that often feels waxy, when dried. It is tempting to say stem ginger, but it is not that sweet. The second nose sees warm (not burnt) wood dunked in lukewarm fruit yoghurt (berries rather than yellow fruits). It has thyme leaves toasted in a frying pan, on the late tip. Mouth: this one too has a pronounced bitterness upon entry, yet it remains well-mannered. Thin smoke again, burnt hazel, and, let us face it, a lick of purple soap, even if that feels much more balanced than in the 23yo. Chewing increases the soap impression: it strips the teeth, and leaves a bitterness on the gums. Once more, it is tolerable. We also have cough drops and menthol cigarettes. The second sip is remarkably in line. The stripping bitterness seems to polish the teeth, while the roof of the mouth enjoys smoky cough drops. It does not play too many instruments, but what it does, it does well. Furious chewing unveils purple passion fruits, so shy and fleeting they are virtually impossible to spot, and hardly worth mentioning. Finish: smoky cough drops of a purple variety. That is to say: blackcurrants, blackberries, blueberries in chewy-sweets format, with liquorice to make it more efficient -- liquorice allsorts, that is; not liquorice root. The death offers a renewed surge of the same: drying, chewy, berry-flavoured cough drops with a minute cloud of smoke. Retro-nasal olfaction picks up white-fish fillets in a herbs crust, and then said crust more than the fish itself. Repeated sipping makes it softer, sweeter, and more enjoyable: gone are the flowers and soap, the bitterness and liquorice. We are left with pleasant chewy sweets that do not taste like medicine, any longer. Comforting. This is pretty good, especially compared to the 23yo, but there are far-better things out there. 7/10 (I finally try this on 29/11/2024)
The bar is closing, the shop will soon follow course. Time to go.
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| They are about to pour this one when we make our way out. Surely, we have had enough whisky for one day! |
