Are regions really rubbish: The Highlands

5th and final chapter in this series where I try and find out if there’s more to whisky and regionality and the usual clichés re flavour and character that are usually attributed to them. It’s been an interesting journey so far, if I say so myself, as it somewhat forced me to reflect on my own preconceptions. I am inclined to dismiss most of these generic ideas (the likes of ‘Speyside= fruity’ and so on) as a well-meant (?) yet all too simplistic approach to introduce people to what (Scotch) whisky has to offer. Nonetheless, when taking a step back and digging a bit deeper into the concept of regionality, I was all in all pleasantly surprised that, I seemed to be able to find some whiskies that actually do manage to ‘capture’ or ‘represent’ if not all, than at least to a certain extent, the wide variety of characters and flavours from a region into its own profile.

Today, however, with the Highlands as the last of the regions remaining, I find myself scratching my head a bit if I’m honest. Not only are the Highlands quite a vast region to begin with, they are, as far as I’m concerned, probably also the most versatile when it comes to differences in profile and taste. A soft, delicate and subtle Glencadam next to a robust and bold Edradour? A complex and waxy Clynelish next to a fruity and silky Glenmorangie? The barley driven ‘jack of all trades’ character that is Tomatin head to head with the more full-bodied Glen Garioch? The honey and citrus from Aberfeldy alongside the grassy and oily Teaninich? The meaty, hefty character of Ben Nevis next to the tropical fruits from Fettercairn? And so on… Is there any common ground to be found here? Is there a distillery out there that manages to bring a bit from all of these? And if so, how will it manage to avoid tasting like a hot mess, as surely there lies a danger of ending up with a cacophony of flavours and tasting notes thrown on top of each other? And, in case you’re wondering, what about the elephant in the tasting room? I am indeed reluctant to take the Island whiskies into the equation on this one. They have been somewhat artificially ‘squeezed’ into the Highlands to begin with, and even if we should chose to ignore this weird idea to categorize them as Highland whiskies, sure enough the same difficulties arise when trying to find a common denominator between, say, Ledaig and Jura. Let alone Talisker and Macduff…

And yet, I feel there are a few distilleries who might manage to represent what the Highlands are about, whilst also standing their own ground. Deanston could be a likely candidate in my opinion. It’s got a waxy-oily characteristic, and somehow manages to marry barley and fruity notes quite well. Also, a big plus for the case of Deanston is that it seems capable of handling the maturation in just about any type of cask very well and still manages to come out with a very pleasant and agreeable whisky at the end of the day. Perhaps it could be Loch Lomond, arguably the most versatile of any Scottish distillery? The only one capable of combining traditional pot stills with straight neck stills and column stills surely means they'd be able to cater to just about any occassion. And yet, while I'm often fascinated in no small amount of what Loch Lomond brings and how they bring it, rather than creating an archetypical Highland style whisky, they are very much doing theirown thing, combining the stills to create something quite unique.

And if not Loch Lomond or Deanston, than perhaps the once so critically acclaimed ‘great allrounder’ that is Highland Park? It has a bit of peat, some grassy-floral heathery notes. Truth be told, Highland Park have lost me a bit in recent years, and while I’m intrigued to try some of their recent cask strength releases, I’m a bit on the fence to pick them to represent the Highlands, as what I’ve tasted in recent times was almost always a case of hit or miss.

And then, there’s Ardmore…

A key component to the various Teacher’s blended whisky releases (a decent enough blend any day of the week imo), the Beam-Suntory owned distillery is my (unlikely?) pick as distillery to represent each and all Highland whiskies. I’m well aware that it’s a bit of an impossible ‘grand écart’ if you’re looking to find something capable of connecting northernly Pulteney and Wolfburn all the way to the western peninsula (Ardnamurchan and Nc’Nean) to the eastern fragile nature of Glencadam and back to the dirty central Ben Nevis or Edradour to end all the way down south to the secret Lowlander that is Glengoyne, and I’m equally aware of the many holes that can easily be punched in my choice, but – literally – by lack of a better suited candidate, I’m rolling with it.

The problem isn’t exactly getting smaller when looking at core range expressions from Ardmore. Practically the only readily and steadily available core range Ardmore is their Legacy – a decent yet not exactly jaw dropping entry level expression. The 12 yo Port Wood has been so often discontinued and picked up again that I honestly don’t really know what the current score is re availability (according to whiskybase, there have been 2022 releases). Which leaves us with the ‘Ardmore traditional’, a whisky finished in peated quarter casks which was part of the core range until a few years ago and is now a budget friendly (€40 or there about) travel retail expression. With so little investment from the owners to establish something at least resembling a half decent core range, the best we can do, if we really want to get a taste of what Ardmore is, is to look at some indie releases. Which is exactly what I’ve done.

Ardmore 8 yo (46% ABV), natural colour, UCF, Cadenhead’s Original Collection, 50% bourbon casks, 50% sherry casks, 2021 release, app. €45

I usually don’t dwell on the colour of a whisky too long, but: bloody hell! This one looks as if they’ve succeeded in bottling antimatter!

Nose

Herbaceous: a mixture of garden herbs with some soft vegetal notes. Dark, roasted galore of coffee, nuts, treacle, cola cubes and toffee. Mild peat combined with an autumnal hint of wet wood. Sweet, dried red fruits, some oiliness and a slightly dirty sherry note. Intriguing and interesting, but also accessible.

Palate

Again: dark, roasted notes lead the way: coffee, treacle and toffee with roasted nuts and dark, bitter chocolate. Dried fruits as well, making for a drying mouthfeel, which, and this is a minor disappointment if I’m honest, is a bit thin, despite there being some oiliness to it as well. The peat is there, but it’s hiding in the back. I’ve tried to restore some of the mouthfeel by adding a drop of water, and while it emphasized the treacle, it didn’t do much for the mouthfeel.

Finish

Aha! The peat returns! I’ve almost added ‘saving the day’, but that wouldn’t do it justice at all! Interestingly it fades out gently with a combo of treacle and wet wood.

Final thoughts

Overall, I like to make a case for Ardmore, despite there being little to get excited about in terms of official releases. To me, much like Glenrothes, Jura or Glenglassaugh, it’s a whisky where we need to look at independent releases if we want to get a taste of ‘the good stuff’. In the past I’ve had some absolutely stunning bottles of Ardmore, particularly from Signatory. At its heftiest, it could give the likes of Ardbeg and other heavily peated Islay whiskies a run for their money. At its mildest, it’s a very enjoyable, fruity, quite delicate and well balanced allrounder with the peat not as a showstopper but rather working as a solid yet modest, discrete foundation on which the other flavour could build. The ‘problem’ with those, is that they tend to be single cask releases, or a vatting of no more than 2 or 3 casks, so the outcome would be quite limited in terms of bottling, not to mention the fact that there’s always a possibility that they’re not necessarily truly representative of the broader distillery profile. Hence why I picked this bottling: a more widely available big bacth release, affordable and fairly recent, from one of the big indie bottlers. And while I’m enjoying my time with this one so far and I feel it ticks some of the boxes from the many different styles to be found in the Highland region, I feel that there are a few things lacking here as well. The lighter fruity notes are all but drowned in those heavylifting sherry casks, despite there being 50% bourbon casks involved. Then there’s the mouthfeel which leaves room for improvement and one of the more enjoyable features in some Highland whisky – that oiliness and waxiness – isn’t really here as well. In its own right, that doesn’t take anything away from this whisky of course, but when trying to pinpoint a good representative for all things Highland, one of my beloved single cask Ardmores might have done a better job, truth be told. So if there’s anything to take way from this, it’s: buy yourself some more cask strength Ardmore and you can thank me later. Now, is there anything else to take away from this? I’m very unscientifically drawing cocnlusions from my wee exploration of the past few weeks, when talking about regions in terms of ‘typical’ character or flavour profiles, but here it goes: I’ve come to learn that there just might be something to it in some cases, some of the time, but also that, particularly in the case of the Highlands, it can be quite easy to start stretching things, trying to make the point. I’m quite happy with my choice of Tamdhu for Speyside, I feel the Lowlands are a particularly interesting region to keep an eye on, and as for Campbeltown and Islay, regionality might actually make sense. The Highlands, however… despite there being ‘suitable candidates’, overall they might be just too spread out and diverse to find one that ticks all of the boxes. As for now: I’m signing off with a quite decent 84/100 on this one.

And with that, I’m taking a short break. I’ll be back with another series shortly and without spoiling too many beans, I can tell you that in one of the previous reviews in this series, Bud Jenkins’ comments inspired me to do a full series on Island whiskies (which I’m planning to get to later this year). I’ve deliberately left them out of the equation when covering the regions, as I simply don’t feel it’s doing them any service, considering them to be a part of the Highlands. It’s difficult enough as it is to regard the islands as a region in their own right due to their specific geographical characteristics and ‘typicalities’, let alone trying to them ‘blend’ them in with the Highlands. The fact that, speaking strictly in terms of recognised regional borders, Arran now has both a Highland distillery (Lochranza) and a Lowland distillery (Lagg) really makes for unnecessary complexity and confusion for everyone involved. Not to mention that there’s a whole new wave of new island distilleries the likes of Lewis and Harris, Raasay, Torabhaig… to be reckoned with. If you (i.e. the SWA) do insist on maintaining official regions to categorise Scotch whisky, my suggestion would be to make it easy on yourself and everybody else and recognise the islands as an official region in their own right. As little or as much sense as that would actually make.