The Cabinet assembled last Tuesday evening to tackle the four as yet unopened bottles from January's shopping blitz. There is otherwise no common theme uniting these whiskies, although entirely by coincidence there are no island or maritime peat bombs among them.
First to the Stronachie then. This is a 12 year old Speyside from what is known as a "lost distillery". Stronachie ran from 1890 to 1930 and was then "lost" for 72 years until rebuilt and revived in 2002. In truth, mostly just the name is revived in these endeavours as reproduction of the whisky itself is little more than a matter of guessing. Extensive tasting notes were not kept a hundred years ago. In fact, I'm absolutely confident that modern whisky reviews describing notes of unripe Bing cherries and stale menthol cigarettes would be greeted with outright derision by the whisky drinkers of that time. The Cabinet joins in this derision. You will find no such thesaurus raping on this blog. In fact, the notes today are going to be very spartan indeed. The Stronachie was roundly agreed to be malty in character and while lacking complexity, still quite enjoyable. Some sites describe it as "peaty". This is simply wrong. It was scored 5.0. Please recall from the last blog post that 5.0 is actually "good", "an everyday scotch for a dram after work." Remember: 1.0 - 2.9 = Bad; 3.0 - 4.9 = Mediocre; 5.0 - 6.9 = Good; 7.0 - 8.9 = Excellent; and 9.0 - 10.0 = Exceptional. This is the other thing The Cabinet does not do: inflate scores. Most review sites seem to start their whiskies at around 7/10 with almost everything scoring 8 and up. This is absurd.
Then, with great anticipation, we addressed ourselves to the cask strength Edradour, in its curious pink coffin. Whereas the Tomatin's claim to fame was that it was once the largest distillery, Edradour is the smallest. And apparently it is getting smaller - three men used to work there, but now there are only two. Perhaps they should hire a few more people that know something about whisky because it saddens me to report that it was not very good at all. With a cask strength malt one does expect a far bit of fire, and that there certainly was. The problem however was that once you dim the fire a little with water there is nothing left. There is nothing interesting or enjoyable hiding underneath the burn. We were all rather downcast. The score of 3.7 might have been generous.
And now the main event, the Rosebank 21 year old, also cask strength. After a series of disappointments, this was the whisky we needed. The Rosebank did not disappoint and did prove that it is possible to have cask strength whisky that also has flavour. It is a floral and lightly herbal Lowland that finishes marvelously well and promises new discoveries on subsequent tastings. Unfortunately however, subsequent tastings will be limited. Rosebank was moth-balled in 1993. Plans to re-open it were dashed in 2008 when metal thieves made off with the historic stills. Our bottle is one of the very few left anywhere. The great whisky writer Michael Jackson described it as the finest Lowland scotch (a limited field to be sure, but nonetheless). We scored it 6.7.
First to the Stronachie then. This is a 12 year old Speyside from what is known as a "lost distillery". Stronachie ran from 1890 to 1930 and was then "lost" for 72 years until rebuilt and revived in 2002. In truth, mostly just the name is revived in these endeavours as reproduction of the whisky itself is little more than a matter of guessing. Extensive tasting notes were not kept a hundred years ago. In fact, I'm absolutely confident that modern whisky reviews describing notes of unripe Bing cherries and stale menthol cigarettes would be greeted with outright derision by the whisky drinkers of that time. The Cabinet joins in this derision. You will find no such thesaurus raping on this blog. In fact, the notes today are going to be very spartan indeed. The Stronachie was roundly agreed to be malty in character and while lacking complexity, still quite enjoyable. Some sites describe it as "peaty". This is simply wrong. It was scored 5.0. Please recall from the last blog post that 5.0 is actually "good", "an everyday scotch for a dram after work." Remember: 1.0 - 2.9 = Bad; 3.0 - 4.9 = Mediocre; 5.0 - 6.9 = Good; 7.0 - 8.9 = Excellent; and 9.0 - 10.0 = Exceptional. This is the other thing The Cabinet does not do: inflate scores. Most review sites seem to start their whiskies at around 7/10 with almost everything scoring 8 and up. This is absurd.
Next was the Tomatin 12 year old. This is a Highland distillery that was for a time in the 1980s the largest in the world, although it must be said that most of that production went to the blending houses. It is now owned by the Taraka Shuzo group from Japan, whose other holdings include a popular green banana liqueur, Pagoda brand Chinese wine and, curiously, Blanton's bourbon. The Tomatin was easy to compare to the Stronachie as the overall malt dominated flavour profile was similar. Moreover, like the Stronachie, it lacked complexity, but unfortunately, unlike the Stronachie, it also lacked enjoyability. Not bad, but not good either, just mediocre. Score: 3.6
Then, with great anticipation, we addressed ourselves to the cask strength Edradour, in its curious pink coffin. Whereas the Tomatin's claim to fame was that it was once the largest distillery, Edradour is the smallest. And apparently it is getting smaller - three men used to work there, but now there are only two. Perhaps they should hire a few more people that know something about whisky because it saddens me to report that it was not very good at all. With a cask strength malt one does expect a far bit of fire, and that there certainly was. The problem however was that once you dim the fire a little with water there is nothing left. There is nothing interesting or enjoyable hiding underneath the burn. We were all rather downcast. The score of 3.7 might have been generous.
And now the main event, the Rosebank 21 year old, also cask strength. After a series of disappointments, this was the whisky we needed. The Rosebank did not disappoint and did prove that it is possible to have cask strength whisky that also has flavour. It is a floral and lightly herbal Lowland that finishes marvelously well and promises new discoveries on subsequent tastings. Unfortunately however, subsequent tastings will be limited. Rosebank was moth-balled in 1993. Plans to re-open it were dashed in 2008 when metal thieves made off with the historic stills. Our bottle is one of the very few left anywhere. The great whisky writer Michael Jackson described it as the finest Lowland scotch (a limited field to be sure, but nonetheless). We scored it 6.7.
It was a jolly evening, accented by Irish port laced cheddar and vintage East German stereo equipment, the latter donated to the Cabinet chambers by Michael.
Slainte!
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