As promised, here is the first of three reviews of Glenmorangie special expressions, each of which has been finished for two years in a specialty cask. In this case, the Lasanta (Gaelic for ‘warmth and passion’) takes the basic Glenmorangie 10 for a two-year ride in sherry-seasoned (Oloroso and PX Sherry) casks.
What do we get for an additional two years? Is the Lasanta able to challenge all-in sherry aged drams like Macallan’s Sherry Wood, Glenfarclas 12 or Highland Park’s 12? And how does it fare against another ‘finished’ whisky, in this case the very nice (and more expensive) Balvenie Doublewood? That’s what we’re here to find out.
The packaging is conservative and classy with a dark maroon label, an echo of sherry’s ruby tones, and you will see significant color in the spirit (see photo below). What does Glenmorangie say about its whisky? They are quite up front on the bottle about the extra two years maturation, so kudos for clear messaging. There are no claims of ‘craft’ techniques like non-chill filtration or avoidance of added coloration, but at the price point, $50 in Oregon, that’s not expected. On their website, we don’t get much more info than tasting notes, to wit: “the sherry casks bring rich raisin intensity, toffee and spices to Glenmorangie’s renowned smooth style”
What’s coming up – reviews of three Glenmorangie specialty-cask ‘finishes’ of their single malt.
How distillers switch up the casks and hence flavor profiles
There are a few ways a distiller can introduce flavors outside of those provided by the very common ex-Bourbon cask. One way is to age the whisky entirely in specialty cask types (port, sherry, rum or wine casks). The Macallan standard expressions (12, 25) and all Glenfarclas bottlings are aged exclusively in sherry butts. Highland Park uses only sherry-seasoned casks, but employs two kinds of oak to get their flavor profile (American and Spanish).
In this blog, I’ve focused mainly on whiskies the average Joe can afford, and can get without having to pay international shipping fees. But now and then I’ve acquired rarer whiskies with a tale attached to them. This is one such whisky and it’s tale belongs in a whisky blog. Why not this one?
My wife and I visited Scotland a couple years back and we visited the Balvenie distillery (covered here). This tour was high on my list for a few reasons: Balvenie creates a whisky I like (the Doublewood), and recommendations on various whisky sites named their tour as the best. Also, they offered a ‘valinch your own bottle’ option on the tour. Count me in…
This is another review I have to credit to my local scotch-loving spirits retailer, Kelly. His recommendation for Oban was spot on, so I gave him heed when he told me the Tomatin 12 was akin to the Balvenie Doublewood (which I really like) and at a comfortable discount to the Balvenie. Tomatin sells for about $36 here in Oregon, whereas the Balvenie retails for $62. Frankly I think it’s a tall order for anyone to take on The Balvenie, but let’s give Tomatin a fair shake.
What do we know about the distillery? The box art implies a start of 1897, and that is indeed when the ‘legal’ distillation commenced on the site. The distillery has expanded and contracted over the years, having survived one bankruptcy and a liquidation. It was purchased from liquidation by the Japanese conglomerate Takara Holdings, putting this brand in the multi-billion-dollar club of holding companies. Curiously, Tomatin is the only Scotch distillery owned by Takara. More curiously, its web page is the only Scotch distiller web page I have seen with a Japanese language prompt alongside the English one:
In the previous post, I mentioned Dewar’s old full-page magazine ads, with the Scots Guard soldier or some other Scottish kitsch. I also mentioned the ubiquity of White Label, the fifth largest selling blended Scotch in the world and top selling Scotch in the U.S.
Dewar’s web site claims the White label is “The World’s Most Awarded Blended Scotch Whisky.” This post is going to answer the question, is it any good for sipping? And to give it some spice, we’re setting the White up against a competitor, the Red, from Johnnie Walker.
The Dewar’s packaging, like the ’12’, is in a classic style, again heavy on the heritage with “True Scotch” announced just below the “White Label”, rendered in some old-timey font. Boy howdy, glad to see we don’t have a fake scotch on our hands. I have a warm feeling inside (and I haven’t even tried any), like when I get the Domino’s box with ‘Real cheese’ emblazoned on the side. Lower down we see the ‘Gold and Prize 500 medals’ claimed. I guess they are including silver, bronze, even iron medals? Who knows.
If you were of my generation, you’ll remember Dewar’s ads from magazines–often full-page ads, typically with a Scots Guard soldier in full regalia and some marketing flack typical for its day. These days I don’t notice many advertisements for Dewar’s. When I encounter the brand I’m on a commercial flight and I’ve asked what they have for scotch; it’ll be their White Label. In the marketing wars the brand appears to be outshone by the massive Johnnie Walker complex, but they still have a strong presence in bars in the U.S. They claim to be the fifth largest selling blended Scotch in the world and top selling Scotch in the U.S. Maybe Johnnie just advertises more?
Notably, Dewar’s web site claims the White label is “The World’s Most Awarded Blended Scotch Whisky.” Maybe they just entered more competitions, I don’t know. I tried finding a list of their awards. Still looking.
This bottle of Talisker 18 was a gift from my wife who knows I am a huge fan of Talisker’s 10-year-old, and knows I was blown away by the Talisker 25 I had in a New York restaurant. (That was Aureole, a great combination of superb food and service without pretension. A Michelin starred restaurant, and there were folks eating there in jeans and t-shirts…) But I digress. When I woke up Christmas morning and found this bottle stuffed in my stocking I broke out in a broad grin. Santa sure knows my taste.
This is a whisky with a serious price (about $165 around here) so I’m going to give it a detailed analysis. I’ll be comparing it to the Talisker 10 of course and the Caol Isla 18, which is comparable in some ways (age, Island flavor profile) though the Caol Isla is unpeated. (I have to find a peated Caol 18!)