Fèis Ìle 2019 Official Bottlings

This is the standard bottling rather than the Committee release, which was reviewed in Batch 190. It shares its stronger brother’s piney opening – Christmas trees and juniper. The hint of vetiver is also retained. If anything, the rum accents are increased, with riper banana, apricot and coconut coming through. The smoke is integrated and (relatively) subtle.

A gentle and soft start lulls you into a false sense of security, even at the mid-palate, although there is a more noticeable tickle of smoke. The flavours are all soft fruits (fruit salad now), touches of creamy vanilla and some lime. Then it starts to do that Ardbeg thing where the smoke asserts itself and the energy starts to build, the phenols increasing in power as they spread out. Never however does it dominate; there’s just a shift in focus.

Now, along with the sooty smoke, there’s an unusual hint of damp (peated) barley.

Relaxing and summery. A Piña Colada by a beach bonfire. Job done, I’d say.

Along the beach, through the palm trees, She Comes In Colours.

An interesting one. Light in colour, and very pure and mineral-like to start. Gentle smoke, salt and chalk, then drying smoked (Hebridean) salt. There is also a wisp of delicate florals (artificial rose) and a fresh, zesty, lemony citric quality. It’s rather discreet. A little softer with water, with added notes of new book smells and touches of pineapple.

It starts very juicy and creamy with some of Bowmore’s distinctly tropical fruits in there: mango especially, though this is still on the quiet side. Halfway through, things change significantly and become more saline. This then seems to reverse the flow, sweeping forward along with the smoke. Water accentuates the whisky’s sweetness and its citric nature; now things have moved to yuzu and grapefruit.

Salty, with a bracing, clean acidity.

All ex-Bourbon cask. A subtle and pure Bowmore with low wood impact. A summery companion to the Ardbeg.

On the shores of Loch Indaal, the band plays a Samba Pa Ti.

You might pick up a tiny struck match on the opening but this flashes off, leaving a vinous quality with thick, baked fruits, some honeycomb, citronella, peaches (in syrup) and also a surprising smoked meat note. This then sinks into clotted cream dribbled with orange Muscat and some sour cherry, adding a little bite.

As the nose suggests this is concentrated, sweet and rich, with those ripe fruits lying heavily on the tongue. More apricots now, with a balancing crunch of cereal towards the back. Water does nothing to alter this overall lusciousness.

Long, clinging and sweet. Light ginger.

The five years spent in Sauternes casks (‘Is that a finish or secondary maturation?’ asks Pedantic Ed.) has added extra sweetness and richness without making things too cloying.

Heavy Peaches En Regalia.

Immediately complex, rich and decadent. Very oily as well, like sea-wet oilskins. This maritime edge then starts to give way to sweet spices (cassia and mace), some applewood, a surprising (for Caol Ila) mintiness, then Szechuan pepper, before sweet, ripe blue fruits emerge alongside agave syrup, castor oil and layers of peat. Highly complex.

Elegantly unfolds itself across the tongue, starting with heavy, rich fruits, some of the oiliness and a little prickle of spice. Everything seems to coalesce in the centre of the tongue before the smoke starts to peel off. The effect is like sitting on the beach in the sunshine eating ripe, dark fruits, then a cooling salt-laden breeze comes in. Water adds a light menthol touch, along with some juniper and more overt smokiness.

Long, gentle and complex.

In what is a great year for the bottlings this one, for me at least, had the greatest balance and complexity – and at £130 it is a steal.

The sensation of a Star Exploding In Slow Motion.

This is very Kilchoman in its understated quality and, like the Caol Ila, there’s a light mintiness to begin with. This then moves further down the herbal route – there’s an almost garrigue-like quality to it, like thyme and rosemary to the fire. The smoke seems quite subtle, hanging like a soft cloud above it all. In time you get hints of seashore before a dried fruit funkiness snaps you back into focus. Things never become too heavy or wood-dominant. When water is added more peat is released, along with peppermint.

Kilchoman often has flavours that take you back to a sweet shop. Here it’s strawberry Haribo and foam bananas. As these start to melt there’s some crème brûlée elements, some tangerine and a touch of clove. There’s an overall suppleness to the delivery while the smoke is beautifully integrated. It starts to break free and becomes more defined when water is added.

Long and gentle.

A soft and refined dram, resulting from a vatting of a first-fill ex-Bourbon barrel and an ex-oloroso Sherry cask.

Calmly watching the Light On Water.

Now things begin to take a more distinctly heavy turn – but without losing the harmonising sweetness which is vital in a balanced, smoky whisky. This starts off with classic Lagavulin rough shag mixed with bog myrtle, the green notes of bay laurels and the pine elements in Lapsang Souchong tea. Alongside this is a rich and robust plummy character; some chocolate ganache with black cherry. The smoke rumbles away, rolling inexorably forward – especially after water is added. Dense, rich and concentrated.

As you might expect from that nose, this is thickly layered and highly complex. It clings to the tongue, with the dark fruits building in weight and silkiness as it reaches the centre, tendrils of scented smoke winding out, adding another layer of complexity. There’s a drier edge now – the ashes of a peat bonfire on the beach along with some seaweed, that bay laurel element, sloe, liquorice and date.

There’s a spark at the back of the throat, which sets the fires burning. You could add water to soften this down or simply let it smoulder into a long finish.

A turbo-charged distiller’s edition. This has sweetness and smoke, but also an extra layer of richness and complexity. A classic, big-boned Laga’.

A Strange Brew.

They keep on getting bigger. This cannot be described as a shy Laphroaig. Instead it is hugely oily and very resinous (shades of the Ardbeg and a hint of what’s to come with the Octomore) with some moss and green fig. There’s just sufficient vanilla (and salted caramel) to add a soft pause, before you are tangled up in kelp and tarry ropes.

Thick and textured; it seems to stick your lips together. There’s an almost brutal power to it before those green elements kick in, adding extra eucalyptus and chypre. The resinous wood is retained, but now it’s smouldering. That in turn is balanced by super-ripe black fruits. The robust phenols then emerge, with tar and bitumen.

A roiling mass of peat.

This cask strength version of Three Wood (ex-Bourbon, ex-oloroso Sherry and new oak quarter casks) is classic old Laphroaig: unafraid and uncompromising. That’s how we like ‘em.

All opposition is Trampled Underfoot.

If you thought the last pair were big, be prepared. Instantaneously massively concentrated and liquorous, with exotic wood resin (that redwood forest note) and added sumptuous layers of black fruits (fresh, cooked and dried). The smoke is scented and somehow sweeter. In time there is a hint of horse stable, then the honeyed wildness of creeping thistle, before things take a distinctly savoury turn: bacon and sundried tomato, soy sauce, rowan berry, tar and leather. Almost overwhelming.

Massive, powerful and rooty, with those super-ripe black fruits, more dark chocolate, espresso and (once more) a thick and clinging oiliness. The smoke manages to balance what could be a ponderous overkill of Pedro Ximénez and oloroso Sherry. It becomes reminiscent of the sootiness of a Rhone Syrah, with some fruit jelly and the savouriness intact – as is the exotic wood. Water makes things chewy, as finally the peat oils ooze out along the tongue…

…and down the throat. Becomes massively phenolic.

A beast of a dram and though not one for the faint-hearted, for me it’s another must-have in a truly great year.

Starless and Bible-black.