Much in the same way as picking a quintessential malt from Campbeltown makes sense, finding a true representative from Islay as a region holds water as well. When it comes down to classifying whiskies by region in terms of character and flavour profile, Islay and Campbeltown might in fact well be the only two where it’s actually applicable. The uniqueness of Islay as a location, with its specific environment, its soil, water, wind and climate defines in no small manner what Islay whisky is, and what it tastes like.
So picking a quintessential Islay whisky is relatively easy. You could arguably pick just about any one of them. If anywhere the concept of terroir in whisky holds up, it’s probably here. The reason, in my opinion, is pretty straightforward. When it comes to most Islay whisky, using locally sourced peat in the kilning process makes a mark on the product. A big one, at that. And yes, I am aware of there being non-peated Islay whiskies out there, but by and large, it‘s safe to assume Islay=peat.
So when it’s a case of anything goes when picking one whisky that represents them all, how do we go about then?
Well, as said, there might be something to the whole concept of terroir in Islay whisky that’s not utterly rubbish from the get go, so I thought it would be interesting, for the sake of searching for a ‘true representative’ of Islay whisky, to explore that path a bit further. When describing the typical Islay whisky character, words like ‘peat’, ‘smoke’, briny’, ‘medicinal’ spring to mind. Yet, quite often, behind that barrage of hefty and outspoken flavours, lie more delicate notes, characterised by fruity and herbaceous elements. So I feel I should take this into account and see if I can ‘connect’ those characteristics with the concept of terroir – shady and debatable as it may be.
Now if Islay, not particularly known for its vast amounts of woodland nor its impressive, mighty oak forests, wants to make a claim re terroir, it’ll have to do so by not looking at the wood, but towards other ingredients (yes, I consider the casks to be an ‘ingredient’ when it comes to whisky). Shocker: I’m inclined to overlook water here. I’m not suggesting it’s not important, far from it. Clean, fresh water is vital if you want to make whisky, but I think it’s a clear case of been there, done that and moved on when dwelling on the importance of ‘the cleanest and the purest’ of spring water, wouldn’t you agree? When it comes to the actual taste, as long as it’s indeed clean, it matters not one jot, and might as well be tap water.
So, what’s left then, is the malted barley. And when looking for a whisky to represent Islay as a region, this immediately narrows things down significantly, as, to my knowledge at least, there are but two Islay distilleries at the moment who tend to make a song and dance about using locally sourced barley: Kilchoman with their ‘100% Islay’ releases, and then there’s Bruichladdich, who release batches under the name ‘Islay barley’ for their unpeated Bruichladdich, the heavily peated Port Charlotte and the super ultra heavily peated Octomore (all the releases ending with ‘.3’).
As expressions from both distilleries were available, I had to make a choice. Flipping a coin would be one way to do it, but rather than having fate have its way, I decided to dig my hole of overthinking things a bit deeper still, and went for the Bruichladdich. For a number of reasons I will get to shortly.
Port Charlotte Islay Barley 2008-2015, 50% ABV, natural colour UCF, €60-€65
So why the ‘Laddie rather than the ‘Homan? First of all, this is a release that still has Jim McEwan’s name on it. When it comes to legendary names, Big Jim is right up there in my opinion. No dissing his successor Adam Hannett or any of his colleagues and peers, I hasten to say, but Jim McEwan is not only a born and bred Ileach, and not just a force of nature in his own right, he’s become practically synonymous with the resurrection and revival of not just Bruichladdich, but with Islay as a whisky island. So I wouldn’t and couldn’t pass up on the chance of sipping something that was created under his eye, because, as time goes by, the opportunities to do so will inevitably become scarcer.
Secondly, there is the fact that Bruichladdich released this under the ‘6 farms, 6 terroirs’ flag. One of the farms involved with delivering the Islay barley, was actually Rockside farm, which has since been bought by Kilchoman to help ensure availability of grain for their 100% Islay releases. So simple equation number two: More farms = better representation. Or, to quote the great British philosopher Jeremiah Clarkson: ‘More equals better’.
Nose
Sweet and sour – like lemon sherbet evolving towards vanilla custard. Peat is very nicely integrated. Balancing things out is a mixture of farmy-vegetal notes, like wet hay. Things evolve further if you leave it in the glass for a while: orchard notes led by green apples. All the while, the sweet peat works as the backbone on which the other notes build. There’s no denying its youthfulness as there’s a crisp, almost pungent element to this, yet it remains inviting as well. With a drop of water the fresh fruit and fruity freshness is even more noticeable.
Palate
The ABV shows. Less sweetness, more peat. A dry, ashy mouthfeel. Again vegetal-herbaceous and slightly farmy, sitting against a pleasantly fresh sour-green fruit note. With the added water more freshness and herbaceous, slightly ‘prickly’ -crisp too.
Finish
Long, peaty, drying and herbal.
Final thoughts
It’s good, layered, approachable and unmistakably Islay. Is it, in its age - and price category, the best Islay has to offer? I’m not at all sure. Does it make a good ‘amabassador’ for Islay as a region? Again, I’m not at all too sure. Probably some of the more usual suspects – Ardbeg 10, Lagavulin 8, Laphroaig quarter cask,… - would suit that role better, as I’m well aware that with the whole vintage, limited release aspect of these Bruichladdich bottlings, we’re knee deep into a more nice segment of whisky. However. Based on both flavour profile and production background, I feel It offers arguments to be picked as a good representative for most things you’d associate with and expect from an Islay whisky. The youthfulness allows for plenty of the spirit character to shine through, and thus captures some of the ’essence’ of Islay. ‘Essence of Islay. The new fragrance by Bruce Laddie… ‘ (84/100)
I’ll see myself out…
😂😂 that Clarkson really is a character. Thanks Tom. This region was actually quite hard to 'pin down' to just 1 bottle, but I feel I made a case for my pick
Another thoughtful article that put forward a very good representative for Islay. I would have struggled to choose between a few with Kilcholman edging to the front. I know it is a younger member of the Islay community, but I think their work is shining bright and waving the flag for Islay. With that said, your Islay Barley is an equally good choice. I like the idea that regions should have an element of what is specific to the locale, like locally grown barley. I"ve often wondered why there isn't more similarity in the stills in a given region and that clearly is like water, not the thing that sets them into a regional style.
Most would agree that Islay has, more than any other region, a crowded field of bottles that can be put forward as representative of the island's characteristics; many variations of a (very unique) theme. I like rationale for your choice Menno.
BTW I feel like Jeremiah Clarkson had been peeking in my whisky cabinets prior to making that statement....