Scotch On The Prairies

It’s been literal years, but I’m still here, still enjoying my drinks.

Maybe more posts will be coming! It was a downright profligate holiday season with all sorts of new bottles coming into my possession.

If you know me you probably know Alberta Premium is my daily drink. It’s an enormous value and taste for the money you pay, and people don’t realize it. I’ve been thrilled to see them experiment in recent years, rolling out plused-up bottles that have become staples (like the cask strength and the 20 year). Now I found this new method me in Manitoba over the holidays: the Batch 10 Legacy Reserve!

Allegedly the product of careful barrel selection, this is comprised of a single barrel selected from distillate created in each year from 2001 to 2010. The internet claims the juice ranges in age from 13 to 23 years, which is certainly something. Elitist wangs are no doubt decrying the meagre 42% ABV, but I don’t see any reason for concern here.

You can tell it’s advanced in years before it even leaves the bottle. The colour has a deep hue, and the nose is replete with chocolate, banana, white pepper, cinnamon, dusty oak, mocha, leather. The body is perhaps heftier than any other AP I’ve had before, robust on the tongue, sweet and spiced (not spicy)! Caramel, peppercorn, espresso, warm and dusty oak spices, and a hint of minty chocolate.

I’m pretty pleased with this bottle, especially since I nabbed it from the MLCC at a quarter off (around $60). I almost passed it up on the assumption it would come to Regina eventually, but I haven’t seen it anywhere yet.

One of the best parts about the Kensington Wine Market whisky advent calendar is the truly unique conclusion: a super-size offering from the Scotch Malt Whisky Society.

A group that purchases casks and distributes product as an independent bottler, its products are typically only available to the members whose dues fund their operations. It is a worldwide operation that releases a series of new single cask bottlings every month -- all with whimsical names and a number substitution system that keeps the originating distillery 'secret' in order to keep the purchase price lower. The catch is not only that you have to be a member to buy them, however; there are also only four retail locations in Canada that sell bottles.

Is it worth all that trouble? They generally don't price their bottles on the cheap; the average sale price for the current outturn as of this writing is about $165, as far as my meager mathematics can tell.

Still...it might be.

This bottle pictured here is the third SMWS I've gotten my hands on, all through the Kensington advent. The first was in the 2015 edition, a 59.9% ABV beauty of a 10 year-old Bowmore dubbed 'Islay Beach Scene.' I wrote about it at the time and it was pretty fawning...but for a good reason.

The second was courtesy the good grace of my friend AJ, who split his with me last year. The 'Smoky, Salty, Sweet Porridge' was a nine year-old Bunnahabhain, aged in a refill ex-bourbon barrel and swinging a 61.2% ABV. The nose opened salty and smoky, with honey and vanilla sweetness and leather and nut adding depth. While it seems smokier than other Bunnahabhains, that smoke isn’t all-encompassing, and the whole nose is really well balanced. The palate was reminiscent of tannic white wine, but with a sharp alcohol sting. A heavy dose of salt helps cut through strong vegetal peat and ash. Water makes the whole thing easier to handle, but the notes are similar. It was not terrifically complex, but it was perfectly delicious.

So this third one had pretty high expectations attached, heightened every further because this is the first proper Miltonduff I've had (I did try a Samaroli blended malt a few years ago that combined Miltonduff and Tormore). 'A Wonderful Welcome' is a seven year-old at 62.2% ABV.

And it is reeeeaaaaal pretty. Grassy and floral on the nose, but also buttery like a croissant next to buttered popcorn. It's also fruity and vegetal, with vanilla, lemon peel, honey, pear, parsley and cilantro just buzzing around like it's no big thing. The audacity! On the palate there's about a thousand different flavours: lemon pepper, herbs, mango, vanilla, wine gums, peach, and chilli pepper heat come in waves. Towards the finish there's plenty of cayenne, lemon pepper, and a bunch of heat on the finish. Water ramps down the heat very well, and brings out more herbs, which is not a flavour family that you see in a lot of whiskies. It's easily one of the most complex I've ever tried.

While this isn't a bottle that will turn a ton of heads, I was actually really happy to see the Loch Lomond 12 year-old pop up as the penultimate whisky in the 2020 Kensington Wine Market whisky advent calendar. Loch Lomond is a distillery I've seen on store shelves for quite some time but I've never felt compelled enough to pull the trigger on a purchase. It's typically priced in the $80-85 range in Saskatchewan, which is on a bit of a tipping point; it's expensive enough to represent a bit of a risk proposition, but not high enough to dismiss it outright.

Technically I have tried one Loch Lomond; several years ago, a 10 year-old Croftengea that was part of the third edition of the Secret Spirits Scotch Whisky Advent Calendar. Croftengea is the nom de plume that Loch Lomond drops on its peated spirit; typically it's sunk into blends, though it was briefly subject to a single malt bottling. But it isn't a name I've seen come up in independent bottlings very often. Issued by independent bottler Single Cask Nation, that Croftengea (cask #486 if you're a true head) was unexpectedly beguiling. The nose was reminiscent of pulled pork in a sweet, smoky barbecue sauce, with a bizarre hint of caramelized carrot and a touch of pineapple. The tongue was meaty in its own right, moving into a crispy bacon-like meatiness once I waded through a slightly medicinal, vaguely-rubbery smokiness. It had a tangy sting at an ABV of 55.6%, but retained the tropical fruit sweetness present on the nose. Despite that ABV, it wasn't crying out for water (though a few drops smoothed out the alcohol burn and the smoke).

But the Loch Lomond is unpeated, which means it exists in an entirely different world. That was apparent from the jump; while the nose has an umami meatiness, notes of walnut, orange oil, dusty oak, and coconut were much more apparent. On the palate the orange oil and nuttiness dominate, with chocolate and vanilla sweetness as well. The peat represents as ash and smoke, clouding an emerging spiciness and a mellifluous minerality.

At first I was confused. After some very aged and truly remarkable independent bottlings, the Kensington Wine Market whisky advent calendar has backslid to a truly budget-conscious single malt. But it’s kind of a genius choice, much like using your ‘Calvin and Hobbes’ box set to achieve ergonomic and aesthetic perfection for your Zoom calls during a pandemic.

I first tired the Ardmore Legacy in February of 2017. I had recently tried some fairly experimental whiskies, like the Amador Double Barrel Bourbon, Glenfiddich's first Experimental Series release, the IPA cask, and a month's worth of independent bottlings from the Secret Spirits advent calendar. So to slide into a nearly-bottom shelf single malt could've been a huge failure. But it was exceedingly charming, especially considering the price point.

I've banged on this drum countless times, but I'll never pass up an opportunity to say it again and again: whisky freaks need to ADJUST THEIR EXPECTATIONS. When I say this is charming, I don't mean compared to a $350 bottle of the Dalmore's King Alexander III or a similarly-priced Glenmorangie Signet or whatever boutique bourbon is going for $200 these days. I mean if you're looking for a pleasant every day sipper, this is something for which you should be exceedingly appreciative.

The nose opens up super-sweet, leading with milk chocolate, honey, and caramel. That rounds out with an apple and pear fruitiness, layered with a strong undercurrent of smoke.

The palate entry is soft and thin, but very palatable and smooth. A touch of chocolatey sweetness is quickly overwhelmed by new spirit burn and ashy peat. There is some grainy cereal, coffee notes, oak spice and a vague nuttiness. It also has a bit of grassiness and a citrus zest zing. The finish is predictably short but unimpeachable while it sticks around.

The last thing I expected on day 22 of the Kensington Wine Market whisky advent calendar was another offering from That Boutique-y Whisky Company. After the previous day’s mind-meltingly interesting Strathclyde, expectations are high!

I’ve always been a fan of Bunnahabhain, although like a lot of Islays it is not abundantly available here in Saskatchewan. Over the years I’ve managed to get my hands on my fair share of them: the entry-level 12 year-old, the stand-out 18 year-old, a 25 year-old, and a terrific 28 year-old single cask. They’ve been uniformly delicious, with a surprising variance in flavours. 

I can’t say that this brash bottling trumps them all, but it’s close. At 50.5% ABV and 10 years in the barrel, it’s young and lighter than the other three TBWC offerings in this calendar. But the flavour is almost shockingly aggressive, in a good way.

On the nose there’s plenty of honey, salty caramel, and vanilla custard. That sweetness is augmented with a ton of fruit: green apple, lime, raisin, apricot, and coconut. There’s also some lovely almond adding depth.

The palate is simply gorgeous! Salty and peppery up front, in a very interesting way. Some of the fruit carries over from the nose, namely pears and green grape skins. Sherry spices and the slightest hint of peat smoke come through eventually, with macadamia nuts, salt and malt, and cinnamon also coming into play towards the finish.

Holy moses. This was so fucking good and cool and good.

Saskatchewan never sees single grain whiskies, let alone super-aged ones. So a gift like this in the Kensington Wine Market whisky advent is really something. This advent already had the 27 year-old Cambus, also from That Boutique-y Whisky Company, which was an extremely interesting bottle. I also had the extreme pleasure of experiencing an insanely-old 46 year-old Invergordan at a Bushwakker scotch tasting event a very long time ago. Basing only on these three examples, I think I can safely say that well-aged single grains are very interesting! Especially this Strathclyde.

Strathclyde is a nearly-100 year-old distillery that has been making only grain whisky since 1975. As a part of the Pernod Ricard portfolio, it feeds blends like the Chivas line and Royal Salute. Which are...fine, for what they are. But with output like this they could make a real effective go of it releasing this stuff on their own. 

Because, you guys, this shit is wild. But i don’t know if I can describe it in a way that will really get that point across.

The nose is a wild amalgam of wood glue (I know, what?), banana, grapefruit, vanilla, wet leaves, honey and butter on toast, coconut, and sawdust. Half of that doesn’t make sense, I agree. But the longer it sits the more surprising elements emerge.

It hits the tongue all sweet and spicy, with a surprising amount of body. True to the name, it is very grainy, with strong chocolate and honey up front contrasting with slightly bitter oak and spice. Grapefruit pith leads to a building, spicy heat, tempered by sweet vanilla cream and brown sugar. Eventually you get to a long finish with pepper and oak dominating.

I hate red wine cask finished whiskies.

I mean, nothing in this world is truly black and white and nothing is truly for certain, but I really do. Aside from a single exception, they just do not work for me at all. 

Thankfully it’s not a style that’s pervasive. Sherry finishes are much more common, and usually I like them well enough. After more than one dram, however, I often find them to have gotten excessively bitter or cloying, but the character they bring is often worth it.

If any distillery could potentially change my mind, though, it’s Balblair. I wrote earlier in this Kensington Wine Market whisky advent calendar run-down about how much I love Balblair, and this is my first experience with their new age statement line.

For the most part, every Balblair I’ve had is aged in bourbon casks. This is only the second I’ve experienced that includes a sherry-finished product. It’s 18 years old and sits at a healthy 46% ABV. 

The sherry influence isn’t obvious at first, as the nose falls in line with other bourbon-aged Balblairs. There’s a slight alcohol punch at first, but the fruit follows thereafter: apple crisp and vanilla ice cream, pear, pineapple, and orange peel all emerge in turn. There are also hints of cocoa, candle wax, and a tiny hint of sherry spice.

The sherry attacks on the tongue, warm and rich, with cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger and pepper. Theres’s plenty of honey, fig, cocoa, and brown sugar rounding out the palate. 

We got more peated Islay for day 19 of the Kensington Wine Market advent calendar! 

Bowmore lies out on the storied island of smoke, a place that people tend to have antiquated notions about. I should know better, but for some reason Bowmore has always struck me as something of an old-timey brand; they don’t have the dizzying schedule of limited releases Bruichladdich boasts or the seemingly-endless reimagining of their core lineup of the Macallan. Like the Glenfarclas we looked at a week or two ago, they seem to mostly stick to their lane and chug along, leaving innovation and reinvention to others. 

Fitting the Islay stereotypes, they lean to the ashy side of peat, which I generally prefer. I’ve tried pretty much their entire range (the ones an average Joe can afford, that is) from the old NAS Legend up to the 18 year old. Unlike some distilleries, they improve significantly with age, and there’s a fairy lovely floral quality to some of their bottlings that you don’t always see, especially with peated or sherried whiskies, of which this 12 year old is both. It’s a slightly-elevated 43%, which seems to serve a younger batch well. 

For a 12 year old it has some nice, complex vibes. It’s definitely earthy, with a bit of grassiness, and a hint of early grey tea. The smoke is obviously a strong presence, but so is a hint of iodine, offset with vanilla, oak, honey, orange, and a manly hint of leather.

That translates to a varied nose: the earthiness presents with a hint of dirt and grass, along with some earl grey tea. The sweet comes in the form of some green apple, a hint of orange, and vanilla. All of that is enrobed with a pleasantly-ashy smoke that weaves its way in and out through the finish. 

Today we take a break from our on-going run-down of the Kensington Wine Market whisky advent calendar to look at a couple of very special whiskies.

Black Fox is a farm-to-table distillery in the Saskatoon area that has gotten international praise for its products. So far that has meant primarily gin; as we discussed a number of years ago, I’ve never been a huge fan of gin, but I will sip their products every single time.

At a tasting event in 2016 John and Barb, the proprietors, noted that they had laid down whisky into some barrels and they were excited to start working that side of the spirits aisle. At the time I said, and I quote, “I have no doubt that when it comes of age there will be nothing like it in Saskatchewan, and maybe not even Canada. This might be Canada’s best craft distiller, frankly.”

With Black Fox’s first whisky products heading to retail, I am happy to report that I was right. 

Black Fox has produced three whiskies, two of which I was able to procure. The first is a single grain (triticale, a hybrid grain that features in several Black Fox products and is said to “combine the quality and uniformity attributes of wheat with the vigour and hardiness of rye”) aged in new American oak casks; the second is a sherry cask finished version of the same. Both arrive at an ABV of about 47.5% and retail in 500 ml bottles. My best intelligence suggests it’s at least five years old, but I think they’re not being totally exactly about that. 

BLACK FOX SINGLE GRAIN

Starting off at the base level, but there’s nothing basic about it. This is a very unique whisky, robust and bold. The nose hits like you've just walked into a dusty grain bin, with a very slight sourness, a distant hint of vanilla, baking spices, almond, mango, and praline. Towards the finish there's leather and something slightly solvent (though that either blew off over time or I got used to it).

On the tongue the flavours are similar, with a unique cereal taste that dominates at first. That's followed by a touch of bitter, tannic oak and ashy smoke, offset with some butterscotch, maple, apricot, and a hint of peach. Dry spices and almond add more depth, and it all coasts to a sturdy, lengthy finish.

CASK FINISH

The cask finished version offers an intriguing tweak on the SE 11 Single Grain, with a similar but wholly different experience. 

The nose swaps the hint of sour on the single grain for a pleasantly fruity sweetness, with mango, raisin, plum skin, and red grapes. Rich and nutty, the sweetness also has layers of butterscotch, fudge, and corn syrup. A note of dusty leather adds some grit.

The palate also has some fidelity to the nose, robust, sweet and nutty. Brazil nuts, maybe, paired with green grain, leather, fudge, baking spices, butterscotch, vanilla, tannic oak and dry spices creating an intoxicating (ha!) experience. 

aGlenAllachie belongs to a stable of distilleries with inexplicable capitalization in the midst of their name. Most of them age their whisky in sherry barrels, and most of them are pretty good! On day 18 of the Kensington Wine Market whisky advent calendar, I learned if GlenAllachie is up to snuff.

I've only tried GlenAllachie as offered by a couple of independent bottlers, namely Samaroli and AD Rattray. Both typically have extremely good products on offer, but both of the Allachie's I've tried have been underwhelming. The Samaroli version, part of the 4th Scotch Whisky Advent Calendar (a different product which has evidently been halted by its creators maybe turning out to be illegal bootleggers?) was practically scent-free with a scorching alcohol burn, and disappointingly mild taste. The AD Rattray variant in the third SWAC was somewhat better, slightly fruity on the nose, overpoweringly strong ABV, and hot pepper heat. It was weird. On the whole, the two were wildly divergent and largely unsatisfying.

I am sad to say that this one doesn't quite deliver either.

I would expect a 15 year old bottling to be a pretty solid expression of a house style. For some distilleries, it’s the fulcrum after which the product becomes over-oaked and less satisfying (Glenfiddich, I’m looking at you). In the case of GlenAllachie, you’re offered a huge, intriguing nose but all the palate is devoid of any aggression or individuality. The nose is replete with dark chocolate, leather, caramel, nutmeg, fresh blackberry and cranberry, and a vaguely perfumey florality. It’s pretty wild! But on the tongue it’s much lighter than you’d expect from the colour and nose. Honey and spices (cinnamon and clove) dominate, with a thin wine note, a touch of dark cherry, and orange peel adding some roundness. It’s slightly warming, with ginger and a tingly heat. The finish has some sweet berries and hot tingles.

In some ways it’s worse than the independent versions; at least they had some gusto, some verve, some swing-for-the-fences boldness. 

I like nothing more than when a distillery allows you to see both sides of the coin. 

Earlier in the Kensington Wine Market advent we had the very smoky Ledaig (https://prairiescotch.tumblr.com/.../i-mentioned-the-peat... for a refresher) — Tobermory is the unpeated version, both produced by the same distillery!

And yes, they’re like night and day. As you may have guessed if you’ve been through our archives, Tobermory has a light, beautifully fruity nose. Fresh and robust, a bed of malt supports pear, green apple, peeled orange, honey, vanilla, dusty leather, a hint of brown sugar, and springtime flowers. 

Despite that beauty, it is just as assertively flavourful on the tongue — but without the smoke. Surprisingly robust from the first sip, it brings a ton of fruit and salt instead of peat. Not nearly so light as the nose, it is oily and salty, with an earthy minerality, lots of malt and heaps of fruit. The sweetness is rounded out with vanilla and caramel, and orange peel, white pepper, salty nuts, and a hint of bitter spice characterize the drying finish. And that finish has got bars, in the vernacular of our times; it goes and goes and is delightful the whole way along.

I've had mixed results from the Isle of Jura distillery in the past, and the inclusion of a unicorn version of it is as good a reason as any to really dive into it!

The first time I tried a Jura it was the standard 10 year-old bottling, and it did not impress. It started on a down note with the nose, which hit largely with a strong alcohol burn; a little patience and caution brought out some prominent oak and soft cereal, a floral overtone and a hint of smokiness. The palate brought slightly more peat smoke up front than expected, with a very nice salty caramel and pepper balancing each other out. There’s some slight honey buried deep in the mix, and the finish is long and peppery and beautiful. It goes a long way from a nose-wrinkling introduction through a mild middle to a stunning ending; it’s not enough to make it an all-around stunner, though.

A friend had always spoken glowingly about the Superstition, Jura’s NAS peat-bomb version. It never really grabbed me though! Each time I’ve had it the nose has been largely one-note, mostly just pervasive campfire smoke with occasional wafting hints of caramel and fruit. There’s not much going on when it hits the tongue either: harsh alcohol sting despite carrying only a 43% ABV, very peaty (but more subtle than I remembered in subsequent tastings) and caramel. That’s it! It’s not very interesting!

The Prophecy is allegedly the real heavy-hitter when it comes to peat; I even tried it at a tasting event pitched as ‘The Monsters of Peat.’ And thank goodness I did, because it’s also the most complex and well-rounded, and frankly the best! The nose has a bit more going on, with honey, sea salt, and campfire marshmallows underpinning an unexpectedly light smoke. The palate is similarly sweet and smokey: honey, tropical fruit, and sugar cookie clashing with a very strong mix of ashy smoke and vegetal peat. The finish is exquisite and outstanding, running on forever with that mixture of sweet and smokey rolling over and over and over. 

Most recently I had a chance to try the 18 year-old expression, which paled in comparison to the company with which I tasted it. It was definitely the biggest outlier in the bunch, with an earthy and sweet nose that showcases the red wine influence of its finishing cask, with some slight smoke and spice rounding it out. The rest was not quite so impressive, with the palate laced with acrid wood and spices, sweet toffee, pepper, and of course some strong smoke. It crests with a bitter finish that was fairly unpleasant, although that’s a common complaint of mine with red wine finishes.

Aside from the Prophecy, I wouldn’t really recommend any of them, and sadly even the Prophecy costs well more than its worth. But the independently-bottled 20 year-old sitting in the 16th slot of the KWM advent is a thing of subtle beauty that serves as a great reminder of how important it is to branch out to independents and see how they serve the whisky differently.

It’s a finesse whisky to be certain, despite an elevated ABV at 48.2%. The nose is marked by sweetness, thanks to tropical fruits like pineapple and cantaloupe, toffee, honey, and Jolly Rancher candies. There’s an earthy note like freshly-fallen leaves, dusty oak, and tobacco. The palate is unexpectedly salty and nutty, with sesame seeds, honey-coated nuts of some type, leather, wood, and just a hint of vegetal peat smoke. The finish is similarly nutty, sweet, and salty. 

Day 15 of the Kensington Wine Market brought another KWM exclusive, and the first Canadian whisky of the calendar. Shelter Point is a Vancouver distillery, but this isn’t their product. At 11 years old, it pre-dates the distillery, which means it was bought from Alberta Distillers (the geniuses behind my favourite bargain rye, Alberta Premium) at five years old and aged for six more. And it is a weird and wild banger.

A while back I had my first Shelter Point, purchased in Winnipeg at an MLCC outlet. It was one of their single malt releases and tastes like it: the nose was big and malty, showing lots of grain, honey, lemon zest, the tiniest hint of menthol, a touch of coconut, and a bit of saltwater taffy. Fruit and grain lead the way on the tongue, with green apple and pear, leading into a pretty strong chocolate note. After a spell it got spicy, with a bit lemon-pepper toward the finish and a touch of salted nuts and that hint of menthol from the nose. Pretty complex for a relatively young Canadian single malt!

As for this advent release, this bottle was drawn from cask #346, if that means anything to anyone, and has an ABV of 58.8% -- although it hits like a 65%, making it the second day in a row I’ve had one of the most aggressive whiskies of my life! Unsurprisingly, it’s a world apart from the single malt.

The nose practically rushes out of the glass, with burnt sugar, old teabags, cinnamon, vanilla ice cream, ginger, and dill pickle chips comprising one of the weirdest collections of scents I’ve had the opportunity to witness.

On the tongue it gets even more aggressive. Once again, I nearly spit it out, it was so overwhelming. It’s heavy on the sweet, but also brings a ton of heat: red hot candy, ginger, and hot peppers, namely. But there’s also vanilla, bitter oak, burnt brown sugar, liquorice, leather, and tobacco clove. It’s heavy, with so many dense flavours, it’s hard to parse.

I mentioned the other day how much I love Caol Ila. Ironic then, that the 14th bottle in the Kensington Wine Market advent calendar is possibly my least favourite Caol Ila ever!

This independently-bottled product is exclusive to Kensington, running eight years old and hitting a beefy 61.2% ABV. Eight years is far from short; independent bottlers often seem to err on the younger side with this distillery, even though the official releases from parent company Diageo tend to be quite a bit older. I wonder why that is. 

Now when I say this is probably my least favourite Caol Ila ever, that’s not to say that it’s bad. See, the danger of cask strength whisky is that it can anesthetize the tastebuds, and that definitely happened here. Which is probably a good thing, frankly, as this is possible the most wildly overpowering whisky I’ve ever had. 

The nose doesn’t really foreshadow what’s to come. It’s interesting, different from other Caol Ilas, with cedar barbecue smoke and ash, basil, saltwater, a hint of menthol, and -- somewhat shockingly -- Fruit-To-Go?

The overpowering part comes with the palate. I actually almost spit out my first sip because the combination of heavy alcohol, overwhelming smoke, and unexpected sweetness completely overloaded my senses. It gets ashy almost immediately, then strongly herby. Vegetal peatiness emerges, with some grapefruit pith, cough drops, and a touch of salt. Pepper comes through on the finish, with ash continuing to hold a place of pride to the very last moment.

I’m a very lucky man, for many reasons, obviously. One of those reasons is that every few years I get to try one of these beautiful Glenfarclases. 

The first time was in 2013 at the Bushwakker annual scotch tasting, an epic night they described as an event with a magnitude “never to be repeated,” in which all six bottles were 25 years old or more. They were right! That was a night I’ll never forget, largely because of an exquisite 28 year old Caol Ila that smelled like dust burning off a household appliance when it starts up after lying dormant for some time. But it was also the first time I tried the 25 year old Glenfarclas!

The most recent time was in the 2015 version of the same Kensington Wine Market advent calendar! It was proof that lightning can strike twice, thrice, or even...quadrice? Glenfarclas is one of the few remaining family-owned Scotch distilleries, handed down through generations for hundreds of years. They don’t go for flashy rare releases or gimmicks, prizing consistency and affordability. It’s quality over everything else, and it works for them.

It’s got a beautiful nose, with rich, sherried oak that warms the soul. Red grapes lead the fruit notes, with slight citrus zest and hints of banana. There is some slight nutmeg and plenty of honey. The one slightly-off note is an almost imperceptible burn, maybe from alcohol or menthol.

On the palate the sherry and oak influences lead the way, although it’s soon undercut by a surprising alcohol sharpness. The tannic oak and holiday spices from the nose come back, with citrus and banana returning as well -- although there's far less fruit on the palate. In the finish, there is some almond and ginger, with oak, cocoa, and a bit of smoke as it lingers for a good while.

Arran has the honour of being the the best whisky I’ve ever bought from the West Edmonton Mall.

I could probably end this post there, but I shan’t. 

One of my favourite adult memories is a road trip I took with my siblings in 2015 to see a music festival in the lovely city of Edmonton. Between watching modern and historical rock bands do their best on one of the biggest continuous patches of concrete I’ve ever set foot on, eating some of the best barbecue I’ve ever enjoyed in Canada, and napping in my sister’s car in a parking lot, we managed to nab some probably-overpriced niche booze from a swanky store in Canada’s most famous shopping mall. I forget the name, but I remember the booze.

It was the Arran port cask finish, and it was beautiful. It’s an expression I’ve purchased three times, I like it so much. It’s indicative of a powerfully solid and consistent distillery. They don’t put out bad stock! Even their bargain bottles, like the Robert Burns estate-endorsed single malt, are elegant and versatile. Considering they’re a relatively-young distillery, that consistency is more than admirable.

They’ve apparently undergone a bit of a brand adjustment recently, with new labels and a few new releases, including this new NAS offering. Bourbon barrel-aged and reminiscent of the Robbie Burns model, it’s a simple but enjoyable drink that is just pleasant as all get-out.

The nose is intriguing, with a slightly sour off-note that mingles with an umami thread. That’s relieved by tropical fruit, chiefly mango and pineapple, as well as some vanilla and shortbread sweetness. There’s an overriding dustiness, as well as some sweet lemon, salt, and biscuit notes.

The palate is heavy on the grain, but also fruity, with apple, grapefruit, and lime zest. There’s plenty of vanilla, with lemongrass and white adding some zip as well.

Aside from a nearly impossible to photograph label, Glen Scotia has the distinction of being one of only three distilleries from the Campbeltown “region” of Scotland. Which is great, because it means pound for pound they have the highest success rate of any whisky producing region in the world. In addition to Glen Scotia, it also boasts the flawless Springbank and Kilkerran/Glengyle distilleries. All of them produce unctuously-bodied, flavourful whisky that is bold, fruity, and often delicately smoked.

Glen Scotia is easily the least-known of the three, but not deservedly. I know I rarely see bottlings, so it may just be a question of access and availability that’s holding them back from reaching the heights. While my experience with it is limited, I think it’s certainly worthy of some accolades. 

The only time I’ve tried this particular Scotia was at an international whisky event in Regina at the Conexus Arts Centre, which is enough of a bacchanalia that I always question my tasting notes the next day (especially the samples I’ve tried later on in the evening). I was relieved to find that my musings on the 15 year old were mostly accurate, though some of the nuance was absent from that first cut.

The nose is delightful, with plenty of spices, chiefly cinnamon and cardamom, with a ripple of orange zest and banana adding a fruity counterpoint. There’s a couple of complexities buried in there too, a hint of soy sauce and burnt brown sugar. In the mouth there’s a pretty strong smash of aggressive booziness, enough to make my gums and lips tingle over the length of a glass...but in a nice way. There’s a healthy dose of red fruit and some coconut on the sweeter side, similar spice to the nose, albeit a touch bitter, and a gentle undercurrent of smoke and earl grey tea carry you to the finish. That all makes it sound like an aggressive pour, but it really is well-integrated and lovely to the senses.