Woodrow’s Warehouse Reserve | 58% ABV

Digging Around to Find Some Gems

The rain and wind is smashing into the big window beside where I sit now so fiercely, that I reckon in a few minutes it’ll give up the ghost. The glass pane is flexing and distorting the reflected lights to such an extent that, if it does implode, then I’m in real trouble because I don’t have anything that could patch a hole that big. When it’s dreich outside on the Isle of Skye, it’s unrelenting, humbling and often scary.

I’m choked with the cold and thus ill prepared for such a repair job. Runny nose, weird barking cough and sneezing all the time, yet I still have some of my taste. Not that I’m analysing much right now, apart from how fast the clouds are moving across the island. A week ago we made our way to the lowlands to see family over the long Easter weekend and, seizing a rare opportunity for whiskytime, took to the big smoke for an afternoon of dramming in Diggers. From one of the two excursions did I receive the lurgy.

A fine day it was too, sitting in the quiet of a Sunday post-lunchtime Athletic Arms, the place where me and my Uncle talked about island life, whisky and plans for our upcoming Whisky Dash to Campbeltown 2024. We kicked off the long sunny Edinburgh afternoon ordering a Glasgow Tokaji special edition (not the Small Batch Release but an earlier special bottling) for me, and a Holyrood “Embra” for Unc…if they could only find the bloody thing.

10 minutes of searching ensued, amongst the groaning hordes of bottles lining the back wall of the pub, along with phone calls to Kev the owner and lots of ladder clacking, frowning and shrugging, to find the elusive and as yet unopened bottle of Embra; an irony not lost on us. The launch of this bottling hasn’t quite made the splash in our wee circle that it could have.

We were both really interested to see if the Embra is a stroke of genius or a brutal misstep by the young Edinburgh distillery. Released only a few weeks earlier, the second general release from Holyrood is, on paper, a strange one. Their inaugural ‘The Arrival’ was met with all-round positivity and grabby hands. Unlike other green gambits, The Arrival was rich and complex and very, very tasty. I didn’t get a bottle but Unc sent me 20cls and I rinsed it almost immediately. A fantastic first fling.

Then they launched a cask strength distillery exclusive that was equal parts lava and white pepper. But when the Embra was announced, the surprise around the whisky ramparts was palpable: presented at 43.6% and an unfortunate £67, the talk of what game Holyrood were playing was rife. Having bought all their releases so far and upset at their weird choice of ABV, Uncle needed to know why Holyrood had decided upon this course of action, without parting with £70 to find out.

Our working theory we came up with, after trying it, is that Holyrood wanted to get something out there quickly but realised that their arsenal was all hotter than a week in Barbados, so did what they could and watered it down to 43%, where it became palatable again. We reasoned this, because it was nothing special at all. It isn’t The Arrival great, but it isn’t bad either. Just a fairly innocuous, decent-if-thin lightly smoked whisky. The Glasgow Tokaji in my glass, in comparison, was a powerhouse of immensely rich, endearing and gorgeously viscous flavour in comparison. Dram envy.

From that damp squib we picked whiskies from the enormous selection available at will - no pre-planned route this time. I tried a Glen Scotia Royal Mile Whiskies single cask which was great, followed by a Tomatin Fino Sherry bottling that wasn’t the one Roy was lauding on the vPub the other week, and wasn’t much to write home about. Then a Benromach Cask Strength Batch 1, which was ace. Uncle tried a few - Fragrant Drops Ardmore, Glendronach Cask Strength Batch 11 and a Kingsbarns Bell Rock Cask Strength, which were all impressive. We were having a jolly good time and, with the takeaway ordered from Taste Good up the road, chose our last drams.

I’m not sure what drew me to Ben Nevis. We’d spoken earlier of just missing out on a Woodrow’s / Fragrant Drops tasting down at the Kilderkin, which was already in session, and I remembered seeing Woodrow’s at Fife Whisky Festival but didn’t get a chance to try any of their wares. Uncle spoke very highly of Woodrow’s having tried many here in Diggers. Maybe it was because I knew I needed to try more Ben Nevis, but anyway I plucked from the 800+ list of whiskies on the Athletic Arms whisky menu a “Ben Nevis 9 yo Woodrow's vatted American, European Oak, Oloroso and PX 58% £6.00”

£6! The wonderful thing about Diggers is that all the whiskies are priced very reasonably, allowing a day to be had that doesn’t break banks or necks. An Aberfeldy 12yo is £3.50, for example - all 35ml pours too. You can, if you so wished, try a £20 dram but most of the exciter whiskies are all in the region of £4-£9.

Anyway it was Uncle’s round and, as is proper, was tasked with taking photographs of the bottles, something he struggled with all afternoon owing to his camera of choice being a Maris Piper. When I ‘enhanced’ the photo I realised this wasn’t any old vatting of casks - there was a word on the label that I’d never seen before: Bloodtubs.

The last dram of the day was the best - instantly I was engaged with the big, rich, salty, dirty, sweet, saucy mix of magic flavours - it reminded me of an Ardnamurchan single cask Oloroso - maybe the UK Exclusive CK. 339; bright, fresh, alive and thick with sweet red notes. I knew that I had to delve deeper into this magic bottle, so as Uncle surveyed the sun setting through the stained glass windows, I took to the Googles to find it. One place had a bottle.

“Look there! It’s just one big button that you push and ‘bing!’, it’ll be delivered before you even get home again” said someone shaped like Uncle. A few token thoughts of if I needed it, played their familiar song before I pushed the one big Uncle duress button, and it was indeed delivered by the time we got back on Thursday.

Our delicious takeaway squared into eager faceholes, we turned our attention to the small but high-quality stash Uncle has been accruing. I tore into his Murray McDavid Glen Garioch Tokaji, his Old Perth PX and an Atom Brands “Christmas Cake & Dark Chocolate & Medjool Dates & Cinnamon”. Uncle opened a new Epicurean. We saw out the night putting a fair dent into all of those bottles, and more than one was resigned to the recycling bin come morning. A fantastic day spent putting the whisky world to rights.

Back home on the Misty Isle with the Spring sun setting, I opened the Ben Nevis and watched, from afar, the Falaisger season rage on. This is an intentional ignition of the dead plants and bushes the island over, to encourage renewal and growth for the sheep grazing, but a process we knew nothing of. When the fires arrived one day and the sun disappeared behind billowing black smoke, we thought the world was ending. Tonight I sipped my whisky knowing it was all just part of the island’s traditions, and feeling my shoulders return to their standard operating position after a week in Edinburgh, Stirling and Perth.

So…Bloodtubs eh?.

Review

Ben Nevis 9yo, Woodrow’’s of Edinburgh, Ex-bourbon hogshead disgorged into 8x American & European Oak Oloroso & PX Bloodtubs before vatting back together, 58% ABV
£79.95 still around in certain places.

A quick message to Woodrow’s to ask what this is all about, I had answers within five minutes. “Various American and European Oak Oloroso and PX Bloodtubs” is shorthand for an experiment by Woodrow’s to take a single cask of just over 8yo bourbon hogshead matured Ben Nevis, and see what happened if they decanted it all into eight various sherry diddy casks called Bloodtubs.

Bloodtubs are 30-40 litre casks, the smallest cask used in whisky, it seems, and slightly smaller than 50 litre Octaves that are used by many places to quickly establish maturation characteristics or speed things along. Through various speedy maturations perhaps an accelerated complexity might arise? Or maybe it was just curiosity. Either way I’m into it.

This Ben Nevis single cask 1727A-H experiment was vatted back together after 9 years of total maturation and bottled, giving us this quite remarkable little whisky - a single cask that took a brief nine month holiday in various sherry vessels. I’m not particularly au fait with the Ben Nevis spirit, but as a whisky experience alone, was it worth the experiment?

Nose

Bright, red toffee sauce, fireworks, vivid red, Golden Grahams, melba toast. Wood glue. Concrete dust. Blueberry cheesecake. Petrichor. Salt sea. Cedar. Green apple pie wrapped in jam. Chalk. Vanilla pods. Jolly Ranchers. Hint of vicks vaporub. Jelly beans. Black pepper. Bit of old wood bookcase.

Palate

Red, thick, syrupy. Woody, peppery, saucy. Sweet and sharp, rich and fruity. Fish sauce. Flinty and chalky. Jammy. Dark tropical fruits, morphing into vulcanised rubber and engine oil. Match striker. A wave of burnt sugar. Caramel sauce drizzled over fancy vanilla ice cream. Campbeltown funk! Brick paints. That earthy base note appearing again, fantastic.

The Dregs

I’m abjectly loving this. It’s everything I want from a lively whisky - bright, rich, aggressive, meandering, fleeting, powerful and decadent. Oily and mouth coating, it tickles all the senses, including sound as I “phoaar” and “yum yum” every sip. It doesn’t ever tip over into difficult or challenging or weird, never throwing a bum note or dissonance into the mix, retaining an impressive balance of all the complex flavours across the stage, releasing at various points throughout each glass.

This is danger whisky because it’s so damned moreish that the glass keeps filling itself, and at a not inconsequential 58% ABV has the potential for a speedy exit if you’re not careful. Drawn out over an evening though and at full speed this is just splendid whisky, softening the richer reds with time to leave a flowing ribbon of rich caramel sauce, accented with interesting little diversions - a funny rubbery spell followed a few minutes later by some peppery heat, then another minute later a powerhouse of burnt sugar.

Add some uisge and the playing field flattens considerably. It becomes just moreish, rather than feverishly moreish. I prefer it at Exocet lick but you might prefer the reduced tempo if you reject wibbling to bed after a few drams.

Whatever prompted this experiment with the micro cask Bloodtubs, I’m glad it happened. The use of smaller casks to accelerate things along apace is noticeable in the circles I float in - Ardnamurchan are regular fiddlers with octaves and I’ve never had a whisky from those wee casks yet that’s disappointed me. Same is true here - the 9 year old Ben Nevis spirit has been given a boost of bright reds, whilst retaining some of the dirtier elements with a big ABV to deliver a very potent, very enjoyable whisky.

For the price I paid - £79.95 - for a whisky that squarely hits me in the feels like this? That’s money I’d spend again in a heartbeat. It so completely eclipses the NAS Tomatin Amarone fiasco (£75), that I’m enraged anew at the utter injustice of throwing that much money for such irrelevant liquid. It thoroughly obliterates any reason for things like that to exist. I know it’s banging that drum again, but seriously, for almost the same amount this Ben Nevis is walking all over it and many others higher in price. The Embra at £70? Go take a hike.

Woodrow’s have played an absolute blinder here and I hope that they carry on with these little fun experiments, because if this is what comes out the back of it, we’re all going to benefit. I had this sitting at an 8/10 for a week or so, but coming to the glass tonight, bouncing it off against an Ardnamurchan Golden Promise Hand-fill and finding some extra fun through Campbeltown funk and assorted little dirty fruity earthy grains, it’s elevated this to a Dougie Crystal 9/10.

Superb stuff.

Score: 9/10

Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. DC

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