Bruichladdich 18yo Re/Define
2024 Release | 50% ABV
Quelling the outrage
You needn’t quell your outrage, although many of you will feel it. With each new interesting release we’re reminded how it’s harder to afford. I feel outrage, it is indeed outrageous, but I need to find ways to settle it. It isn’t healthy.
Perhaps I’m more sensitive to it. Enjoying whisky since the days when older stuff was more affordable makes the pricing structures of today seem way out of kilter. I can only understand a fraction of it, so many of the decisions made today just don’t make sense. I do try, I know the prices must increase. But it’s outrage-inducing when we sense opportunism at play and arbitrary finger-in-the-air pricing everywhere.
It points to a scene that’s ripe for abuse. After a recent stall of 2023’s third and last quarters, and significant reports of overstocks and choked supply chains over winter, we hope cannier decisions will be made in future. To not take strategic care right now is not only clumsy, it’s tone deaf.
I can reflect upon the privilege of the affordable, mature whiskies that were widely available everywhere, all of the time, back when I was still in whisky infancy. Cruising around picking up this and that based on pretty colours or new and undiscovered names, the cheaper prices acted like stabiliser wheels, even if I stumbled, no real damage was met.
That’s really not the case today. While the world is teeming with tomorrow’s keen whisky botherers, I wonder just how much of the things playing out today, mostly cost of participation, are preventing them from properly exploring whisky.
Whisky arrived at a good time for me. In my mid-thirties, the only person relying on help from me was pretty capable of helping herself, so we relaxed. A lot. Freshly mortgaged, we were learning how to enjoy our home over going out, but we still were able to treat ourselves and happily got the bottle openers out come Friday night. Soon, however, I’d had enough of ballistic weekends and blow-out parties, as middle age appeared on the horizon, reminding me binge sessions weren’t a great idea. Worse, on reflection, I was using them as an off-switch from work; a transition into the weekend; a means to forget. No, not great at all, but in my experience, not unique either.
Before I get too deep, I simply switched all that nonsense out with a quickly growing fascination for whisky and a cookie-trail of bottles supporting it. From my first bottle, purchased purely for flavour exploration’s sake in September of 2005, to the 50th such bottle somewhere around a year later, seemingly without effort, I’d reduced my beer and wine consumption to a mere fraction. I’m not 100% sure, but I also believe my alcohol intake dropped too, although maybe it was more that I was spreading it over the course of a week. Binge versus balance? Not sure, I can’t give advice; everyone is different.
Weekends became less frantic, beer and wine ‘dinners’ became invitations to whisky ‘flights’, sessions became ‘tastings’; it all sounded much more classy. Staying home became a comfort. The thought of starting a family seemed an obvious and appealing progression. Soon enough, and not without significant difficulties, there were little people around, and it was terrifying. Thank goodness for whisky.
Every other hobby or interest I had previously enjoyed, that demanded something more than the investment of sofa spectatorship, was lost. Everything became focused on the new people reliant on us for their every need. We didn’t realise we were capable of such selflessness, but we stepped up. This was costly on time, energy and resources. My whisky pursuit took a back seat, for a bit, and the bottle-chasing slowed too, but it was always there; a soothing glass of amber distraction to help make sense of all the crazy. But, crucially, it remained affordable.
I don’t think I realised it fully at the time, but whisky was definitely undersold back in those days, and it had been for some time, especially the nicer stuff. I remember how the price discussion would pop up with friends, usually over a flight of various tempting drams I’d be beating them over the head with. Specifically, they felt it surprising and unjustifiable for me to have some bottles that cost over £50; that was shocking to them. Bottles which included, interestingly, a Bruichladdich 18. I reasoned with them using wine as a comparator; throughout the whole evening we’d sip, together, less than £30 worth of whisky amongst all of us, yet the wine we’d enjoyed at dinner alone had easily cost more than that, without anyone batting an eyelid.
Furthermore, my stable whisky bottles could be stashed after opening and retrieved whenever, never going ‘off’, patiently waiting for the next quiet pour or classy gathering. Some may last years. I even went as far as to argue that my whisky ‘habit’ was more affordable than my beer and wine days, using Balvenie 12, Glenfiddich 15, Glenfarclas 10 and, ironically, Macallan 10 as examples. Back then in 2007 all were cheaper, by the dram, than a glass of wine.
Things have changed a lot in the intervening 18 years. Wine, beer and everything is more expensive, of course it is, but whisky, shockingly more so. That is, until you realise that sometimes, it isn’t.
The selection of the mid-2000s versus the selection of today bears little resemblance. The only consistency that comes to mind would be Glenfiddich, Glenlivet et al and some other examples; most certainly Old Pulteney. All of which I could regularly buy for £20-25. And yet, only this week, I spotted Old Pulteney 12 year old on offer for £25.
If you consider not only all of the entry level core-range bottlings pointed at the demanding high-volume market, but also the entry level NAS and 10 or 12 year old specialist market, the prices are remarkably stable and, without remarking on quality over that time, they mostly perform below levels of inflation. It would seem, when I stop and think, there remains a lot of affordable whisky. Unfortunately, the caveat today is that most of it is pretty young.
The prices we once paid for the rarer, older whiskies are long gone, the pendulum has swung hard, it’s arguably gone too far and we now find ourselves regularly being asked to pay triple, or more, what we once did for anything with a 16 year age statement or higher. Short of refusing to participate - which isn’t actually a choice for most who simply can’t afford to - there’s nothing we can do about it.
I think the worst thing about this is that eager explorers, coming into whisky in the 2020s, will suffer most from this narrower horizon. Compared to previous generations, they will inevitably find it harder to enjoy those lovely, mellow, integrated malts with poise, balance and maturity. Today’s landscape of new, potent, brash and bold flavours is exciting and all, it’s just that it doesn’t cover whisky’s true spectrum. It cannot display all the great things that come only with time. I’m left to rue the days I neglected bottles such as my Bruichladdich 18 year old, I didn’t realise, when it was gone, just how long it would take to see another.
Or how much it would cost when I did.
Review
Bruichladdich 18yo, Re/Define 2024 official release, 50% ABV
£150 and on wide release
Anyway, I’m reflecting on a time period covering the last 18 years because that’s almost how long it’s taken Bruichladdich to bring back an official distillery release with that age statement. It’s all very exciting.
Crucially, it is a core expression, suggesting they have enough of this to release it regularly. At £150 a pop I see the appeal for that, it seems like it might be lucrative for them. Is there a market for that? Regretfully, it seems so. We’ll get back to prices momentarily.
Let’s side-step for a glance at the presentation here. It’s very new. At first we’re presented with an easily recyclable protective jacket. It’s made of recycled card; imagine a smoother, bluer version of what makes a disposable hospital bed pan. Pulling on the tension-fit tab, it pops open to reveal a slightly taller version of Bruichladdich’s new lightweight bottle design. I’m not sure why it’s different, or taller, but it might have something to do with the nifty glass stopper, but more likely it’s to accommodate the whisky industry’s biggest bottle label.
Seriously, it’s not far short of an A5 page wrapped around the bottle and covered with almost as much verbiage as a Wally ramble. That said, the corpo-babble and marketing speech is kept relatively in check and the tone is mostly facts and philosophy. Overall, I like it. The bottle is nice and balanced in the hand (although it pours silently from the rounded shoulders, but I miss the glug during the opening ceremony) and I even like this cardboard jacket. I think it might be the only bottle in the whisky pit that keeps its jacket on while on the shelf. Maybe.
You could argue that they needn’t have bothered with this little cardboard jacket thingummyjig, but they did. It’s easily recycled or compostable, will probably cut down on breakages and I’d be surprised if it actually cost a lot, relative to the considerable cost of a bottle that is. And here we go.
Price again. But before I start my moans over the price, let’s look at this one for what, in my view, it actually could be; the coming of age of a renaissance distillery. That Bruichladdich 18yo I had back in the day was, honestly, one of my least favourite bottles. That, alongside releases such as ‘Rocks’ and a plethora of other random and confusing releases, put me off the Islay oddball for a long time. Recently, it is back on everyone’s radar and goes from strength to strength.
I didn’t keep records, but going from memory I’ll guess I bought my original bottle in 2007. It was overly spirity for an 18 year old; apple-fresh and slightly hot, it felt a little sharp, herbal and tart. I found it, at the time, difficult to get my head around.
Back then, the stocks from which this whisky was made were inherited. The owners were doing what they could with what they had in order to keep the lights on and build a future. Say what we want about the hits and the misses over the years but, thanks to legitimate and continued earnest efforts, there’s now a thriving B Corp distillery on Islay employing over a hundred folk. And these days the whisky we’re being offered is no longer inherited, most of it is designed. And I think all the better for it.
Better still; it is designed for presentation as a single malt, not a blend component. Think Port Charlotte, or the consistent quality of modern Classic Laddie (even without its 8 or 10 year age statements) and think of the amazing heritage barley varieties, either from Islay or perhaps their annual Bere Barley from Orkney, and all those curious-but-occasionally-pricey wine cask and small batch releases that have helped explode their fanbase. Bruichladdich is in rude health. It really is a renaissance story and to have this eighteen year old reappear will surely grab much attention from eager whisky folk. Right up until they see the price tag. And we’re back here again.
To try and understand how Bruichladdich have justified the £150 bottle price, I had a look around at their peers. It was a little depressing.
Another (mostly) peat-free Islay offering is Bunnahabhain’s 18yo, Currently £140 rrp, but often available for a little less. When we switch over to peated Islay offerings, pickings are also slim. We have Ardbeg’s 19yo for £240 but virtually nothing in this age bracket from Bowmore, Lagavulin, Laphroaig or Caol Ila; not as a core range. Kichoman recently released a 16yo which vanished very quickly despite a fanbase-destroying price of £204.
I suppose to stay on Islay we could proffer the Elixir Port Askaig 17yo as competition at £122, but, while excellent, it’s not the same; not in profile or mission, and it’s not a distillery bottling. We’re really stuck here. There are offerings from mainland and island distilleries, but they too are rising in price with each new batch. Overall, it seems this Bruichladdich has come at a time when it’s almost peerless. Are we surprised? Can we really blame them for charging £150?
Well, I can.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; just because you can charge it doesn’t mean you should. The long term health of your business and whisky require all custodians to play fairly. I often consider Bruichladdich to be the closest thing on Islay to Springbank in approach and philosophy, if they had launched this with a Springbank 18 price point of £120, we’d have likely embraced and celebrated it to the giddiest of heights. It most certainly would’ve notched their profile up in the perceptions of most. But you know what, should Springbank 18 drop in the days ahead, who would be surprised if it was £140? More…?
Still, I feel for the Bruichladdich fanbase who will be excluded from what is a rather remarkable whisky.
The language is also alarming. With this release, the maverick, edgy and friendly face of Islay’s Progressive Hebridean Distillery has morphed into that of one attempting to ‘Re/Define luxury’, which is backed up with a flabbergasting release of a £1,500 30 year old alongside this. I really hope that this ‘redefinition’ is tongue-in-cheek, because if Bruichladdich really does trot down the luxury goods aisle it’s not just the invested fans who’ve lost something, we all have.
Worryingly, I fear it isn't a play on a different take on ‘luxury’, it seems this is a genuine strategic step-change; both bottles arriving at the same time is very deliberate; these are halo bottles. And I’m gutted.
Nose
Peachy. Soft tropical and white fruits; cantaloup melon and white grapes, tinned fruit salad. Creamy overnight oats and a light, bready, cereal note, delicate. Peaches and cream, fromage frais, toffee caramel sauce, a hint of warm leather and treacle.
Palate
It tastes of relief.
Lots to parse out. Its arrival is balanced, integrated. I settle in, it’s not going to reveal everything at first pass. A glass or two in the evening solidifies the first appraisal earlier in the day. While no single note shouts loudest, we can discern lots of fruit; stone fruit, tropical fruit, citrus, orchard, all of it. No sharpness though, these are soft apricots, peaches and melons with a little sweet orange. It breaks into a bready, estery patisserie selection of apple, custard and cinnamon swirls. On the finish it’s drying with the lightest of acidity, very good. Exquisite, even.
It takes water easily and switches and flickers with each new dose, just a few drops at a time. Even when I’ve drowned it, it remains a lovely pour. If we search for that occasional lactic note many of us are sensitive to in Bruichladdich, it’s there, but only the merest of hints, and only because I’m determined to find it.
Overall, there’s a sense that this vatting of mostly bourbon with a little wine cask seasoning (port and sauternes) is a pretty perfect balance. In the end, this is the best Bruichladdich I can recall trying.
The Dregs
Sipping this has taken me along the Dramface scoring guide from good whisky, to very good indeed, to where I am now; Something special, 8/10. But the score should normally be knocked down based on a greedy or cynical price. That said, in today’s landscape, and in the face of little else to compete with it, I raise my hands in submission and sigh “£150? Of course it is”.
I’m genuinely sad it’s so expensive, which is the way I feel about mature whisky generally these days. I feel evermore helpless as I’m forced to level up the investment to treat myself, or refuse to participate and disconnect from the potentially lovely whiskies that were once upon a time within reach.
The more time I spend dwelling on the cost, the more that outrage rises and I force myself to care less, to be grateful for what I was once able to participate in. I’ll leave you to decide whether to help me quell my outrage or voice your own in the comments, but while you think about it, I’ll leave you with this thought…
Bruichladdich have spent over two decades rebuilding. They deserve to make the most of what they’ve built. Many will feel like me, this is too expensive. Yet, what if it was an 18 year old Ballindalloch, or Daftmill? Flavours aside, I wager they’d make this look like a bargain.
Or spend a little time trying to find another ‘Laddie to compare it to: Ralfy’s single cask 19yo; £185. A TWE 18yo 2004 single cask; £250.
It’s an outrage. It’s no longer 2007; it’s 2024. This is the cost of in-demand whisky these days, either because it’s precious or because it’s good. Often simply because there are enough folk out there who’ll pay it.
It’s not easy for me to make peace with it, but I’ll try. My choices are pay or ignore. On occasion, like today, I’ll treat myself and pick one up with the additional benefit of being able to share what I find with all of you. Mostly, through outrage, I’ll choose to ignore.
In the meantime though, I hope I can make this £150 last. Unlikely though. It’s excellent.
Score: 8/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. WMc