Dalmore Cigar Malt
Official Bottling | 44% ABV
Painting a target on my back
No matter how positive, how honest, how sincere the content we put online, there will always be someone poised to dampen the parade and passionately inform you that they disagree. And that’s fine.
Recently, I’ve been struck by our website analytics. Due to some absolutely riveting reviews, podcasting and the inclusion of fascinating insight from the public's top distilleries through the community-sourced “Top 40”, Dramface has been hitting new highs. Yet that means, with more eyes following, a larger target is painted for people to bash, nitpick and dissect past reviews and challenge credibility. Again, this is a good thing. It is almost a common courtesy in the modern online landscape.
To be fully transparent, I am a small cog in this team; a contributor who wears the Dramface badge proudly but rarely pokes his head above the parapet. Working in marketing and websites for over a decade, married to my own experience with producing content for blogs, YouTube and a never ending list of social media platforms, this view is my take, based on the basic analytics data that I have seen, so I do hope you do trust these personal conclusions I am coming to.
This Internet marlakey has kind of caught on in the last 30 years. It’s an amazing place allowing new businesses to grow, people to connect and, most importantly, share our views on whisky. Yet, like everything in this world, it isn’t perfect and a few sour grapes can ruin a whole punnet (I should point out, as I type this one-handed on my keyboard I’m busy eating a reduced box of red grapes, Roman Empire-style, and fear it may have lead an analogy astray).
However, like the highly tacky tattoo I got at a foolish age, it’s important to remember that “the darker the tunnel, the brighter the light at the end”. Without the negative sides, it can become easy to be disillusioned with the greatness around us and in the same way, I cherish that near instant dislike on every video I publish. It feels more real in a world where there are always a few bad eggs who are willing to leak some rotten words for a bit of cash (note; no I am not eating eggs right now) but the majority of folk are putting out their honest ‘hot-takes’ and opinions in this impassioned online whisky world.
Before this becomes a bash on influencers, it is worth noting that they are today, and have always been, key marketing tools. Since way before the internet they’ve wielded their power for both the great and the subpar. It’s not just Tik-Tokers and Instagrammers, an influencer can be a footballer, a cleaner or even your local barber.
We are influenced by these people, for better or worse, they can recommend products which we acknowledge based on their skills and experience. Yes, there are some who remove all objectivity for a bit of pocket change, which I myself fell for in the early days of my whisky journey, but the vast majority of this digital whisky sphere are honest and earnest folk like yourself.
So in a world where echo chambers are being dangerously built by digital algorithms for nearly every social media feed what should we do? Well, a sprinkle of scepticism is crucial but importantly, we need to lead with trust. So, I now ask you, kind readers, to trust me when I say; I like this Dalmore. In fact, I have enjoyed most Dalmores I have tried.
Yes, I am one of the very few “online whisky nerds” who has a piece of praise for the whisky that must contain the highest amount of E150a in any range. Maybe because in my youth, I dabbled a bit in “fake colouring” to hide my pasty white body before my first trip abroad, but perhaps more that my experience with the brand is that they have been very transparent about how non-transparent their liquid can be.
I have been on two digital tastings with Dalmore . One led by a brand ambassador, whose name sadly eludes me, and a full tasting of their core range led by Richard Paterson himself. Both times they stated that this “lovely rich mahogany” colour is enhanced with colouring, with their reasoning being partly presentation and a way to keep consistency. I honestly respect that they haven’t lied about their liquid visually lying to me.
Overall, I find their marketing quite tacky and dated. Especially in this marketing era of “authenticity” where huge corporations try to actively conceal they are more than a family-run, pop-up shop. But this isn’t a deep-dive into their marketing, rather a look at what’s inside.
So, to be as authentic as possible, this bottle was actually won as part of Master of Malt’s “Whisky Santa” Instagram competition. You pester their social media team daily to randomly pick a bottle you’ve been wishing for. The Dalmore Cigar Malt was, at the time, top of my list. Especially since I myself couldn’t justify the price tag, but more on that later. Let’s pour.
Review
Dalmore Cigar Malt, Official Bottling, 44% ABV
£100 - 120 available everywhere (£75 at time of win)
Pulling the magnetised lid off this deep-red, thick cardboard box, it feels less like ‘luxury’ and more an obvious attempt to give that illusion, which is reflected further as the light glints off a huge glued-on plastic stag on the front of the bottle. With a hearty glug, it’s poured into my stemless Glencairn with an auburn, apple cider glow for my final notes for this review.
Nose
While this obviously doesn’t include any ground up cigars - nor am I pairing it with a Petit Corona or a Culebra (types of cigar which I Googled as have no clue) - the first sniff does remind me of the aroma inside a small independent local tobacconist, which I would occasional pop into to peruse their dusty whisky bottles at the back. Plenty of red fruits too, from strawberries to cherries with a real burnt marzipan density. There is a little prickly spice but overall a rich, pleasant and highly pleasing nose.
Palate
Somehow this is both engaging while being velvety and simple, especially for the first sip of the night. A truly juicy quality that manages to bring plenty of sweet sherry notes while dodging that sulphur side that can sneak in. Strawberry smothered cakes and vanilla ice cream, followed by a large glass of a hearty cherry liquor in coke. The finish hangs on like that burnt bitter taste of smearing raspberry jam on burnt toast, as you accept you don’t have the time to pop another slice in.
The Dregs
When I researched the price this bottle sits at now I could have literally thrown up a little in my mouth (it may have been a whole punnet of mildly fermented grapes) and with the nose and palate are pretty pleasing this does not provide great value in my books.
However, it is a well-crafted and deliciously easy and clean sherried sipper that does exactly what I need it to when I’m in the mood. To the point I’m left not caring about the added colour or the chill-filtration. This is an enjoyable and straightforward glass of whisky. It can be hard for me to understand why so many dislike it. Hence why I was picturing a target on my back as I courted the scoring for it.
There are plenty of alternative well-sherried, no age-stated and age-stated whiskies out there which could provide a similar experience at a much lower cost, however I’m yet to find one I personally enjoy as much as this. I have really enjoyed my stretched-out time with this bottle. Yes. Very much so.
Will I replace it? At £100 and up… No. I’ll stick with a budget version of possible Dalmore instead.
Score: 5/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. GG