Are regions really rubbish? Looking for quintessential malts from each region.

Part 2: The Lowlands

Fast recap (ICYMI): this month I’m doing a series where I try and find whiskies that manage, to a certain extent, what a region is about. In doing so, I try to step beyond and away from the usual clichés generally attributed to those regions. Of course in most cases it will be near impossible to pinpoint one whisky as the ‘true’ representation of a certain region, but the idea is not to come up wit a new gospel of some sorts, but more to see what’s out there if we take into account the wide variety of characters and flavour profiles from the +130 active distilleries today. To see if the notion of regions are really dismissible in relation to those profiles and character. So, basically, it’s more about the journey than the actual destination.

When I kicked off this series last week with the region of Speyside, I argued it may well be one of the most difficult regions when it comes to picking out one distillery which can truly be deemed representative of its fellows. The reason being quite straightforward: there’s about 60 of them, and while some fit the cliché of Speyside bringing easy sipping fruity flavours, there’s plenty distilleries who will contradict that idea. For totally different reasons, I feel as if The Lowlands are equally difficult to pinpoint down to one distillery, capable of truly representing it.

For starters, much of the current boom of new distilleries is taking place within the Lowlands. 10-15 years ago, you’d struggle to find more than 3, but that has changed rapidly in recent years, and it is still changing to this day. Currently, there are some 15 active distilleries operating in the Lowlands, and more are on the way. Which means, of course that, if we want to overcome the clichés, with each new distillery coming into fruition, our notion and understanding of what Lowland whisky actually is, demands to be updated and, as a consequence, adjusted.

Which brings me to reason/problem number two: of the hundreds of whiskies I’ve tried over the years, I struggle to come up with even a dozen of them being from the Lowlands. So my frame of reference here is actually quite limited. Obviously the household names have crossed my path – Auchentoshan, Glenkinchie and Bladnoch to put ‘names to faces’. After that, it becomes a bit tricky. Yes, I’ve had a few Daftmills, I’ve tried some expressions from Lindores Abbey and I was fortunate enough to taste some Littlemill and even Rosebank. But Eden Mill, Kingsbarns, Annandale, Lochlea, Glasgow 1770, Ailsa Bay… I have yet to try. Which sort of puts me on the spot, as it means that roughly half of what is going on in the Lowlands at the moment, is terra incognita for me. And taking abstraction from my own personal conundrum re the Lowlands, it is frankly impossible for anyone to have tried all and everything from each and every distillery. Hence why I put a lot of emphasis on this series being a ’train of thought’ and a quest, rather than there being a specific, final destination or a clear set of answers to the question whether or not regions are indeed rubbish. Because, and this remark actually implies to all regions when you think about it: while I'm willing to argue that decent candidates may be found when it comes to capturing what a region has to offer, the concept of there being such a thing as a ‘quintessential’ whisky to represent a region, is very, very debatable to say the least. In the best case scenario, my suggestions might make some sense to some of the people, but I have no pretention to be claiming to have found THE best representative malt for a certain region. Which won’t stop me from trying to find them, of course… ladies and gentlemen: here goes nothing!

Daftmill 2007-2019 winter batch release from optic barley. 46% ABV, outturn from 7 first fill bourbon barrels, natural colour, UCF, 1690 bottles, app. €200-€300

At this point I can almost hear you screaming at your screen. Looking for quintessential whiskies, I go and pick a whisky that’s pretty much an ‘unobtonanium’ for many? And a very expensive one at that. I’m afraid so, but I’ll state my case in a bit, your honours, as first we ‘ve got some sniffing and sipping to take care of…

Nose

Very farmy! A hit of wet hay, muddy soil and clay and stables. Dig past that and you’ll find a delicate yet clear fruity aspect to this whisky, with notes of raspberry, strawberry and peaches with sweeter hints of vanilla and custard. A sour-citric note adds yet another dimension to this already quite remarkable experience. Add a drop of water and both the berries and the farmyard notes become more prominent. Quite possibly not to everyone’s liking given that those more delicate, typical Lowland notes lie hidden underneath that strong and outspoken farmyard character. She may be a lady, but she sure knows how to cuss!

Palate

A bit prickly initially, and on the whole it’s clearly driven by vanilla and citrus. The farmyard character is still there, but it plays second fiddle now, somewhere more towards the back of the barn. It’s salty, on a light and dry mouthfeel. With the added water a mineral and effervescence element joins in.

Finish

Sticky, glue-like even. Increasingly drying while the farmyard notes make a grand return at the very end.

Final thoughts

Overall, it tastes younger than a 12 yo, but that’s an observation rather than a point of critique. Complex and layered, particularly on the nose, which is a (musky) gift that keeps on giving. An outspoken whisky with a distinctive character, but also one that hides its delicate and subtle side behind that barrage of wheelbarrows coming straight out of the barn. And that’s exactly why I picked this as my representative, essential Lowland whisky: because it has that lightness to it we’ve come to know from the more ‘traditional’ Lowland whiskies, a familiar foundation used to build upon, adding new flavours and sensations, and in doing so: building a personality and an identity. Like said, the bold farmyard notes will not be to anyone’s liking, especially those who like their Lowlanders light, mellow and floral, but on the other hand: the trick is to be recognizable as a whisky from a certain region, while at the same time embracing and celebrating your own character singularity. And it does this rather brilliantly!

Next week I’m cutting myself some slack as I try and find the ‘essential’ Campbeltown. Hope to see you then!