Spirit Log: Aberlour A'bunadh, Batch 47

“Straight from the cask”, is the enticing claim from the packaging of this highly renowned Speyside malt. That’s a bit misleading though, isn’t it? Because A’Bunadh is a no age statement expression, said (by Wikipedia) to be blended from spirit aged between 5 and 25 years. So what cask is it bottled straight from, then? Not the one it was aged in – I mean, I presume there was some kind of marrying process, otherwise they would’ve had to take a bottle round all the various casks, fill it up a little from each, then shake it up. I suspect it just means ‘no water added’ – so it’s just a fancy way of saying ‘cask strength’ that makes it sound like it is single cask. When it isn’t.

Well, let’s leave that aside. What else is there to know about this expression? It is released in batches, is non-chill filtered, aged exclusively in Spanish Oloroso sherry casks, and bottled at a varying cask strength – this one a stroke inducing 60.7%.

My procurement matrix had determined that it was time to buy a cask strength Speyside malt, and Aberlour A’bunadh’s reputation and its inclusion in 101 Whiskies to Try Before You Die gave it the edge. I paid just under £40 plus P&P from The Whisky Exchange.

It is presented in a cardboard tube, inside which you’ll find an elegant bottle that doesn’t actually look like it’s big enough to hold the full 70cl. It is topped with an oversized cork and sealed with a deep-red waxy seal. The contents gleam a beautiful deep red colour.

My previous experience of Aberlour consists only of the 10 year old, which I remember was classy and luxurious in its composition, but a little disappointing in flavour. I always felt it could [should] have been so much more.

So what about this one?

This represents my latest delving into the welcoming waters of cask strength scotch, and having read a variety of online reviews, I was intrigued to find that some people prefer to drink this one unadulterated. The idea that a spirit of more than 60% can be at its best at full strength makes the heart positively palpitate in anticipation…

So I struggled with the seal (don’t trim your finger nails before reaching for this one), popped the cork and poured a glass.

…aaaaaaand, first impressions were that it does wear its extreme strength very well. I don’t feel dizzy from the nosing and my nose hairs [sadly] remain unburnt – no need to cancel that order for tweezers after all. And on the palate, yes there is burn, but it is indeed palatable in its natural state. There is burn, but it doesn’t taste burnt.

I began to add drops of water in any case. With each drop, more emerged, the solution sweetened and brightened and, ultimately, I ended up adding quite a lot of water before it reached the critical point at which I felt any more might be detrimental – in fact it is so strong and takes so much water that you end up with a really big drink – which is even better. So I wouldn’t say I agree that it is best without. You can drink it at cask strength, but only for a couple of sips per glass before I’d say you’re wasting it.

Where does it fit in though, in the general scheme of er… whisky?

Well, once again I find myself in the position of wondering why I’m not more impressed than I am. So many good reviews, so highly rated and yet… it’s all right, but it doesn’t blow my mind. There have been moments when I have enjoyed a glass very much, but those have been rare in comparison to moments when I’ve remained unmoved. Does this mean anything? Am I just expecting too much? It is only a sensory experience after all. I have to remind myself that my opinion of the Aberlour 10 and indeed Speyside malts in general has tended to be “nonplussed”.

A quick glance at my geeky spreadsheet reveals that in the simple “Like” column for the Aberlour 10, I’ve actually written ‘no’. It was a while ago, but I suspect my thinking was that while I didn’t actively dislike it, in a scale that included only the variables “like” and “dislike”, it seemed a bit unfair to belittle the efforts of malts that had genuinely impressed me by categorising it alongside them. I see I’ve also etched “no” next to the Glenlivet 12. I’ve then dismantled the scale altogether to register the fact that I hated the Glen Moray classic. I’m nothing if not inconsistent.

Elsewhere in terms of Speyside however, the Glenfiddich 12, Glenfiddich 15 Solera Vat, Balvenie 12 Double Wood, Mortlach 15 and Strathisla 12 have all met with a general approval, yet  in spite of that, in no single case have I been remarkably impressed.

It is hard to decide at this point where the A’bunadh would sit on the overall single malt hierarchy. It does have the potential to at least place higher than all the other Speysiders, but I am going to need a little more from it before I make a decision like that.

So can you take anything away from this? Certainly if you already like Aberlour or Speyside in general – and perhaps veer more toward the sherried stylings of the Balvenie or Strathisla, you can conclude that this is an avenue to divert some future pennies down. Let’s face it, it is beautifully packaged, it’s an impressive strength, and it’s terrific value. There’s also a chance of course that the next batch might be better – though there’s nothing about this one that would suggest it is a bad or even unexceptional batch.  No, my feeling is it just ain’t quite my thing, so it’s unlikely I’ll buy myself another one, but I’d definitely consider it as a gift for someone else. And that’s ok. What’s next?

Postscript

Since writing that I have finished the bottle and would just like to add a note without impinging too much on the integrity of the prose above. I stand by everything I said up there but feel it is worth mentioning that the bottle seemed to outstay its welcome. And by that, I mean I was ready to be finished with it about four large glasses from the end, at which point I pulled it out of the cupboard more frequently and even chugged down the final glass. Oddly, I enjoyed that last glass quite a lot. I wouldn’t normally treat a glass of single malt with such abandon, but there you go.

Cask Strength Roundup

Looking at my blog stats gives the impression that a fair few people aren’t sure what to do with cask strength spirits. Since my original, well-visited foray into that world I’ve made it my business to investigate cask strength expressions wherever possible, so I thought now would be a good time to revisit the subject, look at some examples and draw some conclusions. Onward…

Caol Ila 61.3%

This of course was the original cask expression that I got so excited about. I was quite precise about ratios whenever I drank this one, figuring I didn’t want to waste one drop of enjoyment. Enjoy it I did, but not as much as the standard 12 year old which has its optimum strength already worked out for you.

To be fair, the cask strength isn’t just the 12 year old with less water in it – judging by its even paler hue and lighter, less luxurious body, it is also a good deal younger. That is only idle speculation on my part (feel free to correct me if you know better), though if it is fairly young spirit, it does quite well.

Berry Bros and Rudd Bunnahanhain 1979 51.8%

This has probably been the best cask strength expression so far. Dark of colour, fruity and tart of flavour, it never seemed to overstep the mark when it came to the line between strength and flavour. I only have one small taste of a non-cask strength Bunnahabhain to compare it with, but I don’t think we need to go down that route. This was superb – perhaps its 32 years in a cask helped it to mellow somewhat. You can read more of my impressions of this one here.

Glen Garioch Founders Reserve  48%

48% is quite low to be cask strength, and I would also have thought quite low for such a young cask strength expression. Come to that, 48% is just a weird strength. Nevertheless, this was an average to below average expression, and as such it isn’t something to judge cask strength expressions by. You can read more of my impressions of this one here.

Bladnoch 12 - Sheep Label 55%

In spite of, or possibly because of high expectations, this one never quite achieved the greatness that the 46% 10 year old did. The line between too much and too little water was a little too fine. I took it to a cottage-share with some friends in Gloucestershire and while it was good for demonstrating how addition of water is essential for cask strength whiskies, it was not the excellent example of scotch that I was hoping it was going to be. You'll be able to read more of my impressions of this one in the coming months.

Aberlour A’bunadh 60.7%

A good example – and beautifully presented, but it cemented to an extent my general indifference to Speyside malts. One that would certainly be drinkable at full strength, but for optimum enjoyment a good deal of water was required. In the end, this one just didn’t demand I pull it out of the cupboard often enough. You can read more about this one in the coming months.

Four Roses Single Barrel 50%

Sadly I could never quite get the the flavour to burn ratio correct with this one when adding water – you could reduce the burn, but if you added enough water to take care of the burn properly, the flavour was ruined, and it always made me want to keep adding water until that inevitably happened. I’m no expert on bourbon as yet, but given the big flavours that are out there for reasonable prices, I’d suggest you’d be better going for one of those than you would this. Again, check back over the coming months to read more about this one.

Arran 1997 Single Cask 56.3%

I haven’t quite finished this one yet, but it has been setting a good example so far. A few small drops of water are usually enough. Perhaps not quite as impressive as the Bunnahabain, but gentle and sweet in equal measure. It is also better presented than even the Aberlour A’bunadh – though admittedly about twice the cost. You can read more about this one sometime in the future.

Concluding Remarks

I do like the extra strength, but in general I’d probably rather do without the chaos element that having to add your own water brings. You’re never quite sure you’re getting the most out of it and that blurs the line between the effect your dilution is having on it and the possibility that maybe sometimes the product may not be as good as some others.

You should probably even get cask strength editions at a cheaper rate than others because the distillery hasn’t bothered taking the time to figure out what the right level of dilution is. I suppose you are getting more of the overall product, but every time you pour a glass you have to have one or two tastes before you’re certain you’ve added about the right amount of water – then there’s always that point where you know you’re close, but wonder if you should add a little more, while also being aware that you might end up adding a drop too much and ruining it.

It’s probably only me who worries to this extent, though harking back to that original post, I have seen from looking at my blog stats that a lot of the people who are directed to my first ever post about cask strength scotch, have asked Dr Google, how to drink cask strength scotch, so there’s clearly a lot of uncertainty. They don’t want to waste it by doing it incorrectly either.

All in all, cask strength whisky just seems a bit too much hard work sometimes. So what I find is that a lot of the time I just elect to keep the cask strength stuff in the cupboard. And anyway, shouldn’t I be able to trust the distillery to add the optimum amount of water? And come to that, isn’t it the case that the water they add at the distillery is going to be from the same source as what made the whisky in the first place and therefore better able to complement the spirit than the cheapest bottled water I can buy in a local supermarket? Or does that depend whether the water is added at a bottling plant, potentially far away from the source?

So I suppose, as with all whisky, the cask strength variety is another genre to be explored – there’s going to be good and… less good in it as you would expect with anything. It’s just that there’s something exciting about those extra ABVs, and that may or may not be a good thing – depending on the particular variety you’ve gone for.

Try some out and let me know your thoughts.