2017 10yo, 2020 10yo,McDonald’s NAS | 46% ABV

Score: 7/10

**Very Good Indeed.**
***TL;DR***
*Three solid iterations from one of the Highlands’ most characterful distilleries*

Let’s chat some more about blind tasting.

I’ve already talked about how important blind tasting is for honing one’s palate in my Glengoyne 10 review. I also wrote in that article a bit about blind tasting competitions, although omitted probably the second most important thing about them (the first of course being education); they’re simply good fun.

Watching a recent Aqvavitae vPub episode with Angus MacRaild struck a number of chords, but perhaps the one that rang the loudest was Angus’ reminder that whisky is supposed to be fun. It’s of course also serious; it’s a matter of science and investigation, a toxin, a significant social lubricant and the basis for many people’s livelihoods, including my own to some extent. But I agree with the sentiment - if whisky isn’t also fun, then we’re kind of missing the point.

First, let’s make a distinction about blind challenges versus blind competitions. They’re both great fun and indeed, both should be encouraged. The former may be a solo or group activity, while the latter necessitates others to participate. They can be as simple or convoluted as you want, although by function of social entropy it’s usually easier when competitions are made simple.

Many of you will have seen various blind challenges presented on the Aqvavitae channel with guests. There are usually five samples, an order of preference followed by a series of facts or statements which must be arranged combinatorially with their corresponding whiskies. This is a great example of a group setting for whisky challenges and a similar model can be applied to a solo endeavour as well, though it does require a friend or partner with whisky knowledge to put some effort into arranging the questions.

A simpler example for solo challenges would go something along the lines of asking a friend/partner to go pick out a number of bottles, blind pour them and take a photo of the bottles next to the corresponding glasses in the order laid out for the taster. It’s then on the taster to design whichever system and scoring guide is desired. A good example for training particular sensitivities is shown in the table below; this could also be done for a group, but is particularly useful as a solo exercise to train the palate.

The points contributed by each category can of course be manipulated, however I think the above is a good representation of the weighted importance for each factor in blind tasting - purely personal opinion of course. The advantage of using this table is the total for each row indicates your aptitude for judging some facet of the whiskies, whereas the totals for each column indicate your overall knowledge for a particular whisky. This gives valuable data about where you might need to focus attention; a particular whisky which is difficult to evaluate (which perhaps warrants more frequent analysis) or an aspect of your understanding or palate perception which needs tweaking; do sensitivities to ABV or peat need honing, for instance?

It should be noted that depending on your preference, this type of system can use graduations for marking or a discreet yes/no scoring. I encourage graduated marks since it recognises the difference between near vs. far misses, ie age range; if 5 year graduations are used (0-4, 5-10 etc) then if someone guesses 5-10 years old and the whisky is 12, then only one point is deducted for being close. However, if someone guessed 20-25, they would lose two points for being two error margins away. Likewise for casks. You can be as vague or specific as desired; bourbon, fortifieds and wine casks will cover the vast majority of non-American whiskies, but if you want to specify further, ie bourbon, rye, sherry, port, red wine etc and really put things to the test then go your hardest. Capeesh?

In this manner you can use the similarities and differences between whiskies to help give context to particular variables, which ultimately will lead to more educated guesses about those factors. The better the palate, the more useful this process will be and the greater the rate of improvement. Remember, ultimately a mediocre but well-trained and experienced palate will usually beat out an un-trained but excellent palate most of the time; age and treachery beats out youth and exuberance. This idea of training leads us to the competition format for blind tasting.

In competitive tasting, simplicity is usually best to avoid confusion, especially in large groups. For this reason, some of the largest competitive tastings- such as the Australian Malt Whisky Tasting Championship are semi-blind match-ups. Contestants are each given a number of whiskies with a number of options to guess from and one point is awarded for each correct identification of a whisky in its given location. I won’t lie - from my view, competitive whisky tasting is - as my local distiller friend Ian Schmidt is fond of saying, “The most fun you can have with your feet dry and your pants on.”

So, as a preface to discussing the machinations of blind whisky tasting, a quick disclaimer; I’m a relative newcomer to whisky and very arguably a dilettante at competitive tasting, so as with any advice given here or anywhere else there should be a huge, flaming neon sign warning “Novice alert” from all angles.

That said, I’ve managed to hold the title of club whisky tasting champ for two consecutive years in Adelaide and will defend the title. I also managed to draw with an unknown number of people for 7th place out of about 150 people at the AMWTC, so I’ve had some very limited success. Naturally at any of these events there’s always a huge element of luck and situational whimsy, and particularly in my case one might suggest it’s much more arse than class. Of course, it’s also usually true that the harder people work and the more skilled they are, the luckier they become. Anyway, let’s proceed.

The most important thing about competitive tasting, organoleptics aside, is statistics. Yeah, having a maths background it hurts to be said, but it’s true; at the end of the day you need to play the odds. Doing the leg work in training your palate to differentiate between certain parameters is key in doing this. If you know from practice you have a high sensitivity to sherry and fortified casks but a low sensitivity to alcohol prickle, then you can factor that into the process of elimination. Even if you don’t know what a whisky is specifically, the goal is to narrow your guessing from the original pool of options down to only two or three if possible. Let’s look at an 8-from-10 exemplar blind list below; a selection of whiskies presented to competitors and the thought processes one might use to navigate them;

Given this line up, there are several lines of distinction that can be drawn depending on how sensitive the taster is to certain parameters. The first logical separation is between peated and unpeated malts, which gives the following;

From this point the lines of separation become more nuanced, and this is where a trained palate comes in handy. The first distinction I would make from this point is colour; remember, for competitions we want to delay the point of tasting as long as possible so that we can save our nosing and palate integrity. Colour is a tricky one since we don’t always take notice, but if you can distinctly remember a whisky being notably lighter or darker than another one of otherwise similar nature, it can be a very useful tool for distinction. Ardbeg is very pale, and since its closest counterparts are all darker by varying margins it almost becomes a free kick on this list - like sudoku, the rest of the puzzle starts to fit together. If there’s no peated dram on the table notably lighter than the others we can eliminate it as a possibility. If it is there, we’ve found our first whisky.

Looking on the unpeated side, we have a standout; Glenmorangie is notably lighter in colour than all the other options. By the same logic, it either isn’t on the table or if it is, we now know its position.

The next distinction I would probably make is ABV; time to taste everything. On the peated side, if nothing else the Ledaig and Curiositas should stand out from the other unknown peated drams for being about 6% ABV stronger (at least here in Australia). Even without a lot of training, that amount of separation is usually fairly clear. By that logic, we now know if and where those two are on the table.

Ledaig is a strongly coastal peat, so it should stand out for this character as well as other idiosyncratic Tobermory characteristics. Even if one can’t distinguish the profile, the odds have been reduced from ⅕ to ½. This leaves the Ardmore and Bowmore. To my palate, Bowmore is still medicinal despite the bulk use of mainland peated malt and Ardmore tends to be a quintessential Highland style of peat, so they should be at least as distinguishable as the Ledaig and Curiositas.

Of the remaining unpeated drams we again have a whisky with a standout strength; Deanston is stronger than the others by more than 6% ABV. This leaves Cardhu, Singleton and Balvenie. Balvenie has by far the most sherry cask flavour of any of the remaining three, while Cardhu has to my palate a notable organosulfur component that’s probably desirable to Diageo for its use as the base in various blended whiskies. By process of elimination, Singleton is the most plain of the remaining three.

This process doesn’t always work neatly, and it rarely yields perfect results. The approach though is like any other game; make informed, considered choices based on what you know to eliminate least likely options and promote best choices when they appear. As a thought exercise, I would ask that you randomly select a number of bottles from your stash and perform this same rationale on how you would distinguish key features between groups to eventually narrow down individuals. If you feel like it, pop them in the comments below so we can all have a go. If you want to practise, use the categorisation table above as a guide to interrogate each of the whiskies in the list.

Right, as a jagged and whiplash inducing segue, shall we have a look at a few similar-but-different drams for a review?

Ben Nevis is one of my favourite Highland distilleries. Many of their releases have a brilliant distillate lead dirtiness, a pleasantly viscous texture, excellent tropical fruits (particularly from time in bourbon casks) and a certain old school approach that feels endearingly rough around the edges. It’s a malt that I feel still has some real personality.

While I know Ralfy wasn’t a fan of the most recent iteration of the 10 year old, I don’t know if this is the same batch he reviewed and, more importantly, we have different tastes. Similar tastes mind you, but I think generally Ralfy has a lower tolerance for younger whisky with less of an oak influence and greater spirit emphasis than I do. Admittedly the older bottling has a charm and je ne sais quoi the newer bottling misses, possibly due to the alleged contribution of some 18 year old sherry cask stock in the blend (unfortunately we can’t ask Colin Ross anymore; RIP good sir) however they both have their place and appeal on my shelf.

The obvious standout from this little trio is the MacDonald’s choice being a heavily peated malt and apparently the peat for this one is sourced from the Port Ellen maltings. It seems a slightly odd choice in the first place given that this is meant to be a recreation of the Highland malts from yesteryear, before the advent of modern maltings eliminated the necessity of peated malting. Back in those days, the idea of transporting malt or peat from one of the Hebridean isles rather than sourcing local stuff must surely have boggled the mind. Alas, it works, so you’ll not hear me complain about it. Let’s dig in.

Review 1/3

Ben Nevis 10yo, Official release, bottled 2017, 46% ABV
£45 at retail AUD$100 paid

Score: 7/10

**Very Good Indeed.**
***TL;DR***
*Properly groovy old juice*

Nose

Quintessentially old school. Leather, beef broth, a touch of leek, asian cooking oils and just brilliant autolysis - think Vegemite and soy sauce. As close to pho as whisky gets. Underneath all that there's some first-runnings wort with plenty of brown malts, some woody/floral touches, tobacco leaf, industrial lubrication oils, earthy and meaty mushrooms and light soot. The casks are skewed towards sherry maturation and it just works a treat. Some light Oloroso and dried fruits with spices.

Palate

Goes on from the nose with umami and autolysis being prime operatives.The sherry does lend some sweetness and good dried/stewed fruits with raisins, dates, prunes and a hint of nice balsamico. The oak also contributes cinnamon, cedar humidor and semi-savoury spices. Again there are good oily citruses, brown malts, mixed oily nuts, undertones of tropical fruit with traces of lit candle, menthol and savoury/woody herbs. There’s a touch of rancio in the finish but well within even my tolerances.

The Dregs

This is one of the malts in my collection that gets opened infrequently due to the rarity here in Australia. Ben Nevis is already hard to find due to the limited supply of single malt stock; Nikka from the Nevis and all that. Trying to find old stock like this though is functionally impossible now without paying serious money on the secondary market, and even then they’re few and far between. Every now and then though I treat myself with a pour and it reaffirms my belief that Ben Nevis is properly groovy old juice. Half a bonus point for stonking good value.

Score: 7/10

Review 2/3

Ben Nevis 10yo, official eelease, bottled 2020, 46% ABV
£50+ at retail AUD$120 paid

Score: 7/10

**Very good indeed.**
**TL;DR**
*An updated, more modern profile which still ticks all the boxes*

Nose

A little less dirty, savoury and autolytic and seeing much less active sherry maturation; a completely different cask recipe. To be clear, most of these elements are still there in spades, just lesser by direct comparison to the old 10. It’s a leaner profile bursting with malt. Barley lollies, mashing in grist, some good citrus infused fondant and a higher emphasis on the esters coming forward; mango, pineapple, delicate lychee and pink bubblegum. We’re not in the realms of Clynelish or Bowmore esters, but they’re there. Less oak influenced though there is just a little vanilla, candied ginger and spice pulling the whole together.

Palate

Much more geared to the juicy tropical esters and malt qualities than the savoury aspects. The maturation is notably lighter, and as the nose suggested there’s more tired sherry casks in the vatting. Light butter menthol, toffee and assorted stewed malts, tinned peaches and more tropical fruits, lemon with a little of the waxy peel. Almost indiscernible sooty/chalky touches which seem to be a common theme - perhaps the use of a little peated malt still? The American oak comes in with soft vanilla, clove, allspice and toasted coconut rounding out the profile.

The Dregs

I can see why the change from the older profile to this much leaner bourbon cask style might have ruffled some feathers, especially among the contingent of drinkers that have been around for long enough to remember the good old days of properly good sherry casks or, perish the thought, paxarette. As a modern drinker that finds themselves gravitating to distillate driven bottles with a bourbon cask maturation applied to all manner of distillate styles, this is still ticking a lot of boxes.

Score: 7/10

Review 3/3

Ben Nevis McDonald’s Choice, NAS, official release, 46% ABV
£50 at retail AUD$120 paid

Score: 5/10

**Average.**
**TL;DR**
*Not complex, but a solid malt*

Nose

I'm reminded of something like a blend of Ardmore, Caol Ila and peated Jura.

Bacon, new leather/saddle soap, black pepper, lemon oil polish, mild cumin powder, a touch of coastal brine (Port Ellen malt indeed) before bonfire and smouldering coal with a caramel malt undertone. Not a total peat monster, but works immensely with the base savoury spirit. Time in glass shows a few garden herbs and a slight vegetal tone with something slightly lactic, plus a soft earthy coffee and cocoa in the peripherals. A little sherry in the mix?

Palate

Bacon, soot, wood smoke and ashes, rauchbier (a base of marzen or bock) with then a little more of the vegetal/briney quality from the nose (read good peat organosulfurs). Pepper and savoury herbs again, mild tobacco, touches of chocolate gravy then mild spice and baked lemon wedge. For the age, some hefty vanilla and coconut with a few red fruits from the oak counterbalancing things pretty well. Maybe ex-bourbon casks with American oak sherry in the vatting? Pure speculation.

The Dregs

It’s not the most complex peated malt ever made, but this is right up my alley. Characterful distillate, great utilisation of peat from a distillery with little experience handling it and some good oak to prevent any overt sense of youthfulness. Possibly some more active casks since there's not the same new make feeling in many peaters I would guess this to be the same age as; say 6-8ish on average. A solid malt, although the peat usage does suppress some of the usual distillery character to my mind- perhaps some production parameters were altered to accommodate phenols in the distillate, or perhaps those characters are still there but are being masked by the smoke. No clue, but at the end of the day it’s still an enjoyable dram.

Score: 5/10

Tried these? Share your thoughts in the comments below. TK

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