52.2 % ABV, UCF, natural colour, matured in first fill Maker’s Mark barrels, €90 in the distillery shop, app. €100- €120 on secondary.
3 years. That’s how long this blog has been running, not in the least to my own surprise. Over 120 whiskies (73 bottles and 53 samples, today’s review not included) I’ve covered along the way. Throw in a handful of articles and a rant or 2 for good measure. And yet, believe it or not, this will only be the 2nd Laphroaig I give close attention to here at Malty Towers. That’s odd for a number of reasons. First of all: how can you call yourself a proper whisky blogger and go through 3 years neglecting such an iconic distillery like Laphroaig? For the record: that’s a rhetorical question, your honour.
Second, and even more important, not to say peculiar: Laphroaig has been a pivotal brand in my whisky journey. My first encounter with Laphroaig 10 was nothing less than an epiphany moment, even. It was there and then, some 20 years ago, that I went from ‘sure, I enjoy a whisky now and then’ to ‘bloody hell, this is some seriously good shit. The 8 or so years that followed it was peat and smoke left, right and centre in my book. Then I discovered Benromach, which was another pivotal moment on my journey as it swung the gates to all things whisky wide open, only just leaving the doors hanging in their hinges. And even if it’s been a few years since I last bought bottle of Laffie, I’m still fairly confident that I’ve gone through more bottles of Laphroaig than any other whisky brand out there.
But here’s the thing: there are very few core range expressions from Laphraoig out there today that manage to tickle my fancy. Both the once so beloved 10 year old as the (once) equally adored Quarter Cask left me wanting in recent years – the 10 giving me the impression it’s become a bit flat and watery, while the last 2 bottles of Laphroaig Quarter Cask seemed overly hot, peppery and one dimensional. Having said that, I’ll also add that this is probably more down to me than down to the actual whisky, as my preferences and palate have changed over time. And while I enjoyed other expressions like the Triple Wood (good luck finding one of those these days) and the Lore (lovely deep and rich, yet perhaps about a tenner too expensive these days) a fair bit, ever since they tried to tap into a broader market with their Select (which I tried but it did very little to me, to be honest) I more or less switched off completely. Sure I’d love to get my hands on some more of the 10 yo cask strength, but seeing how that’s near impossible to find in my parts (and when it is available, it’s often hovering north of €100, which turns me off big time) there seems to be very little about Laphroaig these days to float my boat, as much as it pains me to say.
And don’t get me started on indie bottlings, because more often than not they’re even worse in terms of overpriced releases. And somehow I get it. Laphroaig in particular, along with Lagavulin and Ardbeg, are living the Islay dream in recent years. Everybody’s after them, everybody wants them, and so the prices are creeping up. Supply and demand. Even when you’re producing well over 3 million LPA like Laphroaig, there hardly seems to be enough to go around for everyone. So when the opportunity presented itself to chip in on a bottle split for their 2022 Feis Ile Release, I jumped on the opportunity. Seeing how it was unlikely that this bottle would show up anywhere near me, this was probably the best chance I’d get to try one of their recent special releases. An untampered with, cask strength, special release Laphroaig: which self-proclaimed peathead would snub that? Again, that was a rhetorical question.
Nose
Sugary sweetness and surprisingly mild on the peat. Don’t get me wrong: the peat and smoke are there, and in abundant numbers, but this by no means the iodine driven smoke bomb I was half expecting. There are no hospitals on fire near a beach here, if you know what I mean. Over time, it even becomes increasingly, yet pleasantly sour-green. Like green apples and tarte Tatin. Nice, yet not wonderful, in my opinion.
Palate
Much closer to familiar ground now. Peaty, earthy, a bit savoury and quite a lot of smoky – peppery notes. Some dried fruit sweetness, like apricot and other stone fruit. Full on, thick and chewy mouthfeel. Again quite good but, all things considered, also fairly simple and straightforward.
Finish
Long, ashy and drying on iodine and salt, with a malty element to it.
Final thoughts
A good, interesting take on Laphroaig, but not a spectacular whisky. The nose being the most versatile and layered aspect of the experience, it paved the way for what was to come. I’m glad I chipped in on this bottle split, don’t get me wrong, but I’m also glad I didn’t cough up for a full bottle. Maybe it’s me and I got my expectations up too high or I'm just downright naive here, but when you’re doing a ‘special release’, maybe it should indeed also be a ‘special’ whisky? Something not necessarily better, but in any case different or bolder from what you normally do? And while this is indeed a bit of a different, more gentle, easy-going take on what I remember Laphroaig to be, I can’t help but feel it lacks that X factor to merit the status of a sought-after Feis Ile release. As this was a sample from a bottle split, I’m reluctant to give this is a score because, on the whole, it's more of an impression than an actual review, so let’s keep it at ‘good, yet not great’.
And that’s a wrap for this series. Next month I’ll be shamelessly tapping into the ‘reason for the season’ with some Christmas shopping suggestions for you all. Slainte!
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