Review 218: older equals better (?)

On the back of last week’s post where I argued how in recent years young whiskies have influenced and changed the way I understand and appreciate whisky, it would only make sense that I’d also look at things from the other side of the spectrum and see what’s what with some ‘older’ whiskies.

Just to summarize very briefly: when I got into whisky on a more ‘serious’ level roughly a decade or so ago, the whiskies that tended to calibrate my palate and set a benchmark on what whisky was (to me), were roughly those sitting in the 14-16 year old bracket. I still feel to this day that for many whiskies (provided they’ve been put to rest in a mixture of  bourbon, sherry,… and 1st fill and refill casks and possibly even some virgin oak) that’s where you can find the ‘sweet spot’ between the spirit character and the wood. Speyburn 15, Clynelish 14, some batches of Glenfarclas 15, Old Pulteney 17, Glendronach 15, Lagavulin 16, Craigellachie 13… a significant part of what made and makes these stand out, to me, is their balance.

When you get to older stuff, say 18 years and onwards, things might get a bit tricky (as in: even more than it already is to begin with), managing casks, and it truly requires the skills and the knowledge of master blenders and warehouse managers alike to keep a close eye on how things evolve. Delicate spirits will easily start to suffer if left in overly active casks even at a quite young age, let alone when they ‘ve been left unattended for close to or over 2 decades. Unless liquified wood is what you’re after when tasting whisky, those spirits meant for a longer maturation period will regularly be checked upon and will likely get recasked from active to lesser active casks. A while ago, I tried a Glenrothes 28 yo single malt from Signatory matured in an oloroso butt at a whisky festival. It was exquisite: dark, rich, dense, leathery,… in short: full with flavour crawling out of the glass from start to finish. It was also utterly and completely unrecognisable as a Glenrothes (and I like to think I know my Glenrothes as I have a bit of a soft spot for that buttery character), or, for that matter, just about any other non-peated single malt. So much of it was about the wood and while truly something special, it was also quite ‘generic’ old single malt whisky.

And obviously assuming older will mean darker, more depth, more wood… is generalizing things a fair bit. Take something like Glencadam 21. I vividly remember a blind tasting hosted by brand ambassador (and then freshly appointed blender) Iain Forteath at the start of covid. He presented us 5 blind samples during an online tasting  and we kicked the session off with what turned out to be their Glencadam 21. None of the participants put that down as a whisky that old. In fact, the majority of us  thought it was either the 10 year old or a new young NAS, as it relies entirely on refill casks and is very light (both in colour and in ‘character’) as a result. During that tasting we were also introduced to their (back then) brand new Andalucia Reserve. On average 8 – 9 yo stuff, but on the back of the quite light 21 and 13 year old we had before, most of us  were guessing it was somewhere in the vicinity of a 15 to 18 yo whisky. Just to illustrate how age is (sometimes) indeed just a number.

But in any case, I can’t simply state how younger whisky is what I gravitate towards these days without giving some older stuff a chance to prove me wrong. Also: what better excuse to pour yourself a few samples with a respectable age statement, right? So this week, I’m lining up 3 18+  year old whiskies to find out which float my boat:

- 19 yo ‘Wee Mongrel’  blended scotch from Little brown Dog;

- 23 yo Linkwood from Cadenhead’s;

- 30 yo Teaninich ‘Dun Bheagan’ from Ian Macleod

and we ‘ll start with the youngest and work our way up…

Wee Mongrel 19 yo blended scotch batch 2. Little Brown Dog. 52.5% ABV, matured in  Oloroso cask, PX cask finished. 50 cl and £55 (!) on release in 2022 (now typically around £110 on secondary)

Little Brown Dog are relatively new to the indie game as they started out in 2018. Not solely focussed on bottling sourced whisky as they also bottle rum and produce gin in what can only be described as their own micro distillery. A perk, and a significant one at that, is that they have their own maturation warehouse at their HQ in Aberdeenshire, giving them plenty of options to either mature younger spirt or new make themselves, or further mature/ recask / finish older stock in- house.

So far, there’s been 3 batches of the ‘Wee Mongrel’ series (in 2021, 2022 and the latest batch was in 2024 – the latter coming in a 70 cl bottle), and all are blends or blended malts matured in sherry casks of some sorts, between 19 and 21 years of age, at cask strength (although in the case of batch 3 that meant a release at 45.5% ABV). It can be a bit confusing as they simply state ‘blended scotch whisky’ on the label. If we’re to believe whiskybase, this batch is a blended malt. Which makes the original RRP even more impressive, even if it is delivered in a 50 cl bottle.

Nose

Lots and lots of red fruit – plums, raisins but also ripe berries. Christmas cake notes with some dark chocolate and sweet spices. Rich and luscious, but also still quite elegant. Essentially  everything you’d expect and want from that Oloroso and PX combo.  I thought I’d become bored with ‘sherry bombs’, but this is gorgeous.

Palate

Woody and wood spice, and mostly dried fruit notes on the tongue. Rich and dense but just like on the nose, things remain balanced and in check. Medium full mouthfeel (I was actually expecting it to be more dense or heftier) and while not what I’d call super complex, it’s very morish and absolutely delicious.

Finish

Long, sweet the drying and quite clinging.

Linkwood 23 yo (1992 – 2016) Cadenhead. 55.3% ABV, matured in 2 bourbon hogheads, app. €150 (£125) 492 bottles and still some available.

I don’t think Cadenhead need any introduction as they are arguably ‘the daddy’ of all things indie bottlers. What did come as a surprise to me, however, is that this seems to be only the 2nd ever Linkwood I’ve reviewed (the other one being  a  10 yo  bottled by Dràm Mòr which can be found in the hot mess that I dare to call the archives section if you’re brave enough to go and look for it). Shame on me, indeed…

Nose

Bags and bags of citrus notes. Vanilla, honey… quintessential bourbon cask matured stuff, quoi? Little here suggesting this has seen the inside of casks for almost two and a half decades. Not a point of critique, merely an observation. A few drops of water: more honey and pear drops.

Palate

Very drinkable neat, even at mid-fifties ABV. Yes it’s somewhat peppery and prickly but by no means does it bite or sting you, nor does it set your mouth and throat on fire. Again a lot of citrus and honey, but nothing overly sweet, probably due to a soft woody bitterness counterbalancing the sweet and sour bourbon cask notes. A few drops of water do help to get a better impression of what’s going on, as it accentuates orchard notes with a touch of pineapple, soft toffee and  and more wood, all sitting on a medium-full mouthfeel.

Finish

A pleasant mixture of soft bitterness coming from gentle wood notes and citrus.

Teaninich 30 yo Dun Bheagan (Ian Macleod). 1982 – 2013, 47.5% ABV, 576 bottles, going for anywhere between  €300 - €500 on secondary.

 Teaninich is one of those workhorse distilleries from Diageo, cranking out millions of new make spirit each year, mostly  to cater to their blends. The upside of this big booze plant is that there’s plenty to go about for indie bottlers. Those Teaninichs I tried in the past all suited me well, but I also found it quite hard to pinpoint exactly what defines its character. There’s often a bit of a lightness to it, but also a mineral character. I picked up this sample at a local shop (as they offer ‘buy by the dram’ samples too) a while ago, so quite curious to see what 30 years in a (refill) butt would do with this one…

Nose

Sweet – confectionary sweet even with hints of pear drops and honey suckle -  and somewhat grassy and herbal as well. Citrus, but more like a lemon meringue/sherbet note and quite shy. Some oranges and something velvety-waxy even. No rough edges whatsoever (dare I use the word ‘smooth’) and while it’s lovely balanced and rounded, suggesting some age, much like with the Linkwood it doesn’t exactly ‘scream’ 30 years in a cask. None the less: a very pleasant, absolutely lovely nose.

Palate

Again, that herbal – grassy sweetness with pears, lemon peel, honey and honeysuckle in the mix. A hint of pencil shavings suggesting some wood influence here but again: quite low profile. The mouthfeel is medium, almost light, but coating and slightly waxy and effervescence. Somehow it all comes together splendidly. This is excellence in a glass!

Finish

Light and medium long. That effervescence combined with that herbal element makes for a very pleasant last impression.

Final thoughts

The youngest of the 3 I tried smelled and tasted the oldest. It may seem paradoxical, but when you think about it, it makes perfect sense. Active sherry casks not in full blast, but definitely lifting things up and providing plenty of depth and character. The RRP was the cherry on the cake. When looking at the other two, it immediately becomes clear the casks were significantly ‘quieter’ compared to the Wee Mongrel. The Linkwood in particular comes across as a young 23 yo. It’s a quite lively, fresh and even crisp whisky. 23 is the new 16? Possibly.

Older =  better? In the case of the Teaninich I would have to say yes, although not because it brings a lot of depth or wood impact. Looking at the colour, I’d wager this was a refill butt (probably 2nd fill?) and when left undisturbed for 30 years, the outcome was quite magical. Instead of taking over the show, the cask just delivered harmony and balance. Subtle wood influences, combined with lifting up what the spirit intrinsically had to offer, polishing off any possible rough edges in the process: this is exactly how I would love to see many a mature malt to come out. I’ll even go as far and state that when you can get it at €250-€300 (whiskybase suggests this as a price on secondary) and you’re in a position to afford this (compare this to just about any official release of similar age and it’s almost a bargain… almost), it would be money well spent.

Are there any big conclusions to be drawn here? Strong and shouty messages on how old whisky still rules supreme? I would love for that to happen, but unfortunately, that’s not the case. Except maybe one thing: good whisky is good whisky, and to deliver this, spirit and cask need to work together and complement each other. Sometimes this can happen with whisky not even 10 years old, sometimes it can take decades. By and large, I’ve come to understand that forking out north of a hundred pond/euro/dollar just because it’s older whisky, can lead to disappointment. Yes, when the end result is magical, it’s truly on another level. But a lot of the time, high price tags bring high expectations, up to a point where it negatively impacts the appreciation and joy of a whisky, even if it’s still (pretty) good whisky. It’s not fair on ourselves, and it’s not fair on the whisky.