19/12/2018 Three blended malts

Samples are piling up and bottles begging to be emptied. I will opt for increasing ABV, although it likely means decreasing peat levels, tonight.

Peat (45%, Speciality Drinks Elements of Islay, b. ca 2017): Elements of Islay, of course, is that popular series of malts from "undisclosed" Islay distilleries, where each "element" (Ar, Bn, Br, Bw, Cl, Kh, Lg, Ln, Lp, Ma, Oc, Pe, Pl) represents a distillery or a style of whisky made at one of the distilleries (e.g. Br, Ln, Oc and Pl are all made at the same factory). It does not take a genius to figure out which is which, naturally, but that is not the point. The point is that each name is presented in the fashion of a chemical element, straight out of Mendeleev's periodic table (e.g. Bw₅), in a half-litre bottle that looks like it belongs in a pharmacy. Some are single casks, others are small batches. Funny approach. A few years ago, they launched Peat, which was supposedly a blend of all the others (bar Pe, I would imagine). Not sure how constant the recipe is, and it does not matter. Nose: well, what shines immediately is... the peat. TCP, iodine, hospital detergent and disinfectants, but all that is soon joined by an earthier wave: dry peat, bracken, bog myrtle, fishing nets, turf. The third sniff brings incense, exotic smoke, smoked tea (Lapsang-Suchong) and scorched earth. At last, exhaust fumes, spent matches and shotgun barrels emerge. This is resolutely peaty and smoky (it covers all the bases on those two fronts), with not much else going on. After the first sip, the nose presents roasted sausages. Mouth: a bit fruitier, here, with smoked orange segments, barbecued strawberries, mixed peel in an ashtray, black bun, stored in front of an open fire place. It feels a tad watery, yet that is relatively well covered up by the relentless peat attack. Barbecue grille, incense ash, surgical spirits, minty tar (what?) Finish: it hits a weaker spot, at this point, despite the honest ABV; it feels soft (not in a good way). Puffy, re-hydrated, dried apricot thrown into an ashtray, burnt wood, after a November rain, smoked mussels. This is a decent introduction to peaty whiskies, but nothing to rave about. 6/10 (Thanks for the sample, MR)

Gerston (46%, The Lost Distillery Company, Series #3, B#1.I, b#0399, L13/9035, b.2013): I love the concept of this one: a reinterpretation of a style of whisky from a long-gone distillery. (in this case, Gerston closed in 1882) by blending modern malts. It is all a bit futile considering virtually no-one can tell if it is close to the original, the last drop of which is also long gone (in this case, 1914). But I am a ghost hunter, and this is not far from a guilty pleasure. The opaque bottle is also beautifully presented, which is a bonus. Nose: much deeper than expected from a no-age-statement blended malt (prejudice, eh?), it has the coal and soot of something very old indeed, straight out of a black-and-white picture of a fishing village around 1860. A coal stove in a decrepit classroom, dried crab shells, sea shells, fleeting stagnant water but also more sustained fruit -- crystallised satsuma, pineapple cubes, barbecued mixed peel, dried peach slices and dried plantain slices. That is all very pleasant! Mouth: it has a better balance than the previous dram, with the additional 1% very welcome. The mouth has citrus in copious doses, with grapefruit, clementine, blood orange, just a smidgen of gun powder or bonfire, and orange peels. Perhaps barbecued grapefruit? Caramelised orange segments? Burning cinnamon sticks? Orange zest? Yes, yes and yes. Finish: similar interaction here, balancing fruit (clementine, very distinct blood orange, nectarine) and smoke (a coal boiler, a bucket of soot, incense ashes). It works really well! The back of the throat is positively invaded by citrus, with the sweet acidity of clementines and the bitterness of blood-orange pith. I could drink this all night. Much orange zest, slightly bitter, but fruity, smoked clementine, a tin of pineapple cubes in a boiler room (a proper boiler room, not that fake party zone for trendy DJs) and flat, lukewarm lemonade. This one is worth at least trying. It is a bargain, at RRP. 7/10

Exotic Cargo 11yo 2006/2018 (50%, SMWS, 1st Fill ex-Sherry Spanish Oak Hogsheads, B#2, 925b): the announcement of the first batch of this resulted in much outrage. How dared the SMWS bottle a blend? It did not matter that it was a blended malt, and that the society announced it as an experiment; members around the world were intent on letting their membership lapse and boycotting the institution. But then, the same happened when they released Irish whiskey, grain whisky, Japanese and American whiskies, rum, and probably other things. Some simply like to complain. PS, on the other hand, was all over social media defending his beloved masters pied-à-terre and clamouring his unconditional love. Fanboi. I found the whole episode amusing and saw it as a storm in a tea cup. It was not as though they stopped releasing single malts straight from the cask or anything! Finally, I  get to try the cause of all that commotion, then. Nose: where is the avalanche of fruit the label promised? At first nosing, it is absent and leaves the space for wood to fill up -- exotic wood, but wood nonetheless. Then, the fruit arrives, not unlike that in a freshly-open bottle of 117.3. Initially, it is juicy mango, papaya, stewed pineapple, tinned mango in syrup. Then it is cinnamon sticks, and galangal shavings, then fish stock or delayed fish sauce, then cassia bark, jack fruit, soaked dried chilli. The wood influence is not discreet, but it is balanced by the fruit. Mouth: it seems like a different whisky altogether, with thin peach-and-orange juice, ripe pear, sweet marmalade. Eventually, the wood spices also show up, bitter, but under control -- orange pith, green wood, cassia-bark splinters, orange pips... Eurgh! Not quite so under control after all. Finish: lots of fruit (orange, apple, Chinese gooseberry), none very ripe. It makes for a very bitter finish that simply hampers this, without making it totally bad. Orange liqueur, unsweetened, kiwi skins, very bitter Seville marmalade, mandarin peel, cough syrup (not the good kind), nail varnish (not the good kind). This is all a bit meh, innit. The nose prevents it from crashing in flames, but I cannot help but feel this is less than the sum of its parts, whatever those parts are. 6/10 (Thanks for the sample, JS)