Scarabus!

  Kapow!

Sometimes when we are tasting a new scotch, whatever conversation had been going on continues. There'll be a few murmurs of appreciation for what we are tasting. Someone might remark on an element of its mouthfeel or taste. Someone else might note that they don't like it as much as what we had before. And then someone will say something unrelated about Donald Trump.

But sometimes when we are tasting a new scotch, all conversation ceases and we look at each other, eyes wide. "Wow!" "Holy crap!" "Kapow!"

Scarabus was the latter. One sip, and our mouths were filled with such an intensity of flavour that we were all taken aback. This is a whisky you taste not only on your tongue, but on the roof of your mouth, the insides of your cheeks, and the back of your throat. And you keep on tasting it for five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes after. 

We loved it. The irony was that we approached it with a higher than normal level of skepticism and cynicism, which is saying a lot for us (we can be a crusty bunch). This is because it is labeled as Islay, but it's an independent bottling by Hunter Laing, who refuses to divulge which of the nine Islay distilleries they sourced it from. In fact, they take pride in the "mystery" element. Scotch reviewers have variously guessed Caol Isla, Bunnahabhain Toiteach A Dha, and Bruichladdich Port Charlotte 10. We happen to have the latter two in our stocks, so the idea was to line them up and unmask Hunter Laing's silly deception. Silly us. There was no way to make a rational comparison. Maybe the Bunnahabhain, but only maybe? This is a completely different beast. At first we thought that perhaps the hefty 57% abv was distorting the picture, but even watered down, the Scarabus retained an intensity that the others, albeit lovely whiskies in their own right, did not have.

Oh well. When it's good, it's good, so we're happy to set our prejudices aside. It's perhaps interesting to note that the other whisky that made a similarly big impression this year was also an independent bottling, the Chorlton Ardmore 12 year old. Two doesn't make a trend, but it is at the very least a happy coincidence. A very happy coincidence.

Slainte!