Review 237. Balblair: a jack of all trades

Falling in and out of love with distilleries

It’s quite peculiar and sometimes downright weird the way we connect with certain distilleries, only to disconnect with them later on in our journey. Laphroaig is arguable my first true whisky love as for the first 10 years of my journey, their (then) core range of the 10, quarter cask and tree wood were my go to whiskies and at any given point at least 1 of those could always be found in my liquor cabinet. These days, I’d be hard pressed to even consider picking up a core range expression Laphroaig, on account of either being underwhelming or too expensive. Sometimes both. And while indie Laphroaig can indeed often be absolutely stunning, it will very likely also  make a considerable dent in your wallet.

Another distillery that made a positive impact on me at some point (and quite a bit later on in my journey), is Balblair. Only to fall out of grace again. And again, I feel it’s a clear case of an  ‘it’s not me, it’s you’ sort of break-up. When I expanded my horizon from strictly peat and smoke to whatever else Scotch has to offer, it didn’t take long for Balblair to appear on my radar. The reason was quite simple: their vintage releases brought a different take on the whole age statement thing, while also offering very decent value and  overall the quality was never anything less than absolutely decent. Good value for good whisky with a, at that time, quite distinguishing presentation using vintages for their official releases: Balblair may not have been the whisky superstar akin to, say, Ardbeg or Springbank, but it definitely had this sort of ‘if you know, you know’ thing going on. Cue the Inver House marketing team to bugger things up! (Always assume it's the marketing people who're to blame). Probably convinced they were leaving money on the table, around 2019 the whole brand was redesigned: a new core range came into play, at the cost of those vintage releases, and while – luckily- they didn’t tinker with the ‘presentation’ as such – leaving everything at 46% ABV, uncoloured and unchill filtered, prices were (significantly) bumped up – so much so that where a bottle of their 1999 – 2017 vintage series back then set me back some €65, the 18 yo that ‘replaced’ it came with a retail price of (north of) around €100 - a downright slap in the face. Adding insult to injury, Old Pulteney, one of their other distilleries, was given a similar rebrand. And while their prices have stagnated more or less since, and are in fact ‘in line’ with what we see coming from many other producers these days, back then it was a very easy decision to spend my money elsewhere, pretty much never to return. In those 6 or so years since, I have bought exactly 1 bottle of Balblair – their 12 yo, which I in fact used in a line-up of 5 to help introduce people to whisky.

As such that really is a bit of a pity because to me Balblair tends to be one of those ultra-reliable, seldomly raved about, yet rarely ever disappointing distilleries. While producing a fragrant, slightly floral and fruity spirit, it seems to combine ‘typical’ profiles of both the Highlands and Speyside with a dash of the Lowlands in it as well. Combine that with the fact that  in my experience it can handle different casks rather well and you’ve got something that’s very recognisable yet also something slightly different and unique. The sweet and sour 12 yo I just mentioned tends to bring out that distillery character, but some of those yesteryear vintage releases tended to have quite a bit of sherry casks involved (usually in a double maturation with bourbon barrels)  and often they were stunning (if you ever get the chance to try the 1990-2015 release: that is some next level stuff right there). Balblair was (is) very much a distillery that was able to bring something to the table that stood out. It’s consistent, reliable and most importantly it has ‘character’. Not in a spectacular way, quite unobtrusive, in fact, but it had a certain something. Unfortunately, in my opinion,  it shot itself in the foot with what looks like a  half-assed, feeble attempt at premiumisation, when it held all the cards to make it a working class hero. The end result being, again, personal opinion here, is that it managed to achieve to become ‘just another whisky’ brand. Of course the quality is still there, but in terms of presentation there is very little to make it stand out in a line up of dozens and dozens of other brands that offer a similar core range.

Balblair 11 yo Asta Morris (2012 – 2024). Bourbon  + Palo Cortado casks matured. 52% ABV, 250 bottles, app. €75 / £65 and still available

Asta Morris is the Belgian indie bottler owned and run by Bert Bruyneel, one of the busiest bees in the Belgian whisky scene. A regular face at just about every whisky festival imaginable, and when he’s not in the process of bottling something, chances are  Bert can be found hosting a tasting somewhere near you (provided you live in or near the Low countries). Bert has been going strong for years now and has truly become one of Belgium’s most loved  and respected ‘characters’ in whisky.  While he means serious business when talking whisky, he also always has a light and humorous approach to things, as illustrated by the brand’s name. ‘Asta Morris’  may seem like a well thought- through brand name which sounds a bit like church Latin, it is in fact a dialect play on words  meaning something down the lines of ‘It’s merely that’ or ‘nothing to fret about’, ‘piece of cake’, that sort of thing. What’s more, when he branched out and started to release rums and French spirits as well, he lovingly (and tongue in cheek) released these under the brands of ‘Rasta Morris’ and ‘Asta Maurice’.

Today’s review comes courtesy of fellow Belgian barfly Yuri Moggio, who is in fact an Italian expat I met just last year and who we quickly recruited into the circle of Belgian Barflies. Because he’s passionate about whisky, a fun and nice guy to hang around with, and possibly maybe  with the prospect or expectation of being invited to spend a week or two somewhere in sunny Italy. Patience is a virtue they say and good things come to those who wait.

Nose

Dense, with a fair amount of wood oil and that typical musty-grape like fruity funk from Palo Cortado casks. Grapes and something gently grassy. a wet wood note, dried orange peel and green apples. With a bit of water those fruit notes alongside some vanilla oil rise to the front.

Palate

Quite dry arrival with again some wood and a lot of dried orange / citrus notes. Dark honey and caramel and some bitter nuts add some pleasant bitterness to the sweet and dry experience. With the added water I’m again picking up dried grapes (not raisins, literally dry grapes) and that slightly musky-funky Palo Cortado element.

Finish

 A tad sharp, funky-fruity, woody – nutty (oak and almond) and that Paol Cortado lingers on and on.

Final thoughts

There’s a (very) good balance here between the bourbon barrel and the Palo Cortado cask.  A bit feisty perhaps despite this being ‘just’ 52% ABV, but what I’m mainly getting here is an engaging, busy, layered and above all absolutely tasty dram. The price is very fair too, so well worth a punt if you stumble across it in my opinion. Thanks again Yuri for this very nice sample! It really did put Balblair back on my radar and I may well be persuaded to let bygones be bygones, put my preconceptions and prejudices aside and give them another go.