Single Oloroso Cask #125.1/9A | 57.9% ABV

Don't be a chocolate cake waver.

One of the frustrating yet completely irrational things about whisky is knowing of incredible smell and taste experiences being out there, but not being able to get to them. Even more frustrating is hearing the peak of mind-blowing whisky has long since passed.

Recently I messaged a whisky exciter group chat and asked what things I should be getting excited for - things that could be 9 or 10/10 whiskies. One comment struck me as harshly indicative of the impact that the meteoric rise in whisky-exciting has done to the mechanics of whisky: there’s very few exceptional casks around these days. It’s slightly depressing for someone in the red-hot phase of whisky seeking, to be told it’s going to be a fairly impossible task to find contemporary whisky that's bringing the goods. Because worse still, that the casks that are deemed exceptional will command prices way outside of Dougie’s comfort zone. One person's opinion, perhaps, albeit an extremely well informed one. But what is an exceptional cask anyway? 

I like to write about (and enjoy) whiskies that everyone can nip down to their local specialist, or click a few buttons and buy it, because in some way it forms a proxy sharing system. I don’t have many pals nearby that are as excited about whisky as I am. I write about whisky and hope people comment on it, so I can interact with like-minded folk and, by virtue of that process, discover new things too. 

When I looked at the Dougie stash to see what to write about next, I kept turning to this bottle because I have enjoyed it immensely. I’ve eked it out for as long as I can, saving it for a night where I really do want to deplete the bottle further despite the knowledge that when it’s gone, it really will truly be gone - it’s long since sold out. You can technically still acquire it, but not by traditional means of on or offline shops. It is, in other words, the very thing that I find so frustrating about whisky and that’s a predicament. To write about this is tantamount to waving a big moist chocolate cake in front of someone who’s desperate for a piece of moist chocolate cake, and this moist chocolate cake is the most dreamy moist chocolate cake they’ve seen in weeks, and they’d know because their hobby is eating moist chocolate cakes. But I won't let them near it and instead eat the whole bloody delicious moistness in front of them. Moistly.

Look, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say - I’m a hypocrite, and worse than that, a lazy hypocrite. I’ve got other whiskies in the bag ready to review, whiskies which are available and plentiful. But I can’t sit here and not speak of this whisky even if it does exactly to you, what irks me.

I need to get it off my chest. It would be a disservice to whisky, especially one I reckon is an exceptional cask. I can guess what Wally would say should I ask if it's worthwhile writing about it: knowledge is knowledge - just because it’s not accessible to all, doesn’t mean it’s not worthy of being spoken of. If anything it feeds into the collective nous and appreciation of this wonderful spirit, as well as grow my own blossoming whisky knowledge cache. Kind of like what folk talking of Springbank and the flavour experiences that those bottles are giving, right? 

Gratefully, I’ve come across a number of whiskies that land like the one I’m about to praise, mostly delivered in 35ml sample bottles from generous whisky pals the country over. I’ve tried a whisky that tastes like liquid Skittles - Arran Orkney Bere Barley 2014 from The Worm Tub in Fraserburgh. Joyous, and long gone. Douglas Laing Old Particular The Elements Collection Craigellachie 'Fire' 12 Year Old (it’s a mouthful that) from The Waking Dram in London. Sensational and long gone. Countless phenomenal whiskies from our own uber-generous Hamish in Northern Ireland. I try these wee fleeting samples and shout “wow”, because my whisky knowledge has just expanded that little bit further. I now have more words in my whisky dictionary to reference.

By the way, I recently had my first experience of using my dictionary. Looking at a whisky sample during my now routine Sample Saturday (they’ve amassed so much I need to do something proactive about it), I studied the label, age, barrel type and finish and formed an opinion of what that whisky would likely smell and taste like. Then I poured it and, surprise, surprise, it smelled and tasted like I’d expected. Perhaps that’s more of an indication the whisky sample was a bit unsurprising, but it still gave me pause - collecting whisky information through the smelling and tasting of any and all whiskies is starting to pay off.

Review

Bimber Abbey Whisky single Oloroso Cask, #125.1/9A, 57.9% ABV
£75 - £150 at auction

That very same sample sharing system was how I became aware of this whisky. It was one of the Dramface team shifting some samples from their own overstuffed drawers and a 50ml sample was stuck in among a load of other great things (such as the Kilkerran 8yo ). I tried it and knew immediately I wanted to explore it further, but it was long gone. A release of just 178 bottles, it was always going to be of limited availability but luckily for me there were a few up for grabs at Scotch Whisky Auctions in July.

I managed to snag one for £75 including fees and since then I’ve been swirling around it like sharks to the diver, nipping away, teasing out the eventual kill. My dramming behaviour is because I know how good a deal I got. When these bottles first launched through Abbey Whisky, they were more than £100. Even now at auction they command around £150. So I’m trying my very best not to blow this bottle before I’ve had a chance to revisit it with more experience under my belt. For that reason alone it’s become my rare-treat whisky.

Nose

Sweet, juicy blueberries and synthetic strawberries. Toasted granola. With water it’s more aligned with a big bourbon - vanilla sugar and burnt crème brûlée tops. A subtle mineral edge.

Palate

Wow - big wave of ultra-bright red fruits, minty, medicinal, oily, salty, fruity. With water it reduces the Exocet missile to a spirited yomp, with demerara sugar, cinnamon spice and maybe even a Christmas-like edge to it, with Christmas cake and boozy flames. A fading parma violet and blueberry cream completes the set.

The Dregs

This is young. I don't know how young, but given Bimber has been distilling for just six years, and this bottle arrived mid-2021 means I assume it's less than five years old - there’s nothing to say what age the whisky is inside this bottle. Some veteran enthusiasts might dismiss this as young whisky but for me and many like me, new whisky is a big part of what we're interested in. And as we head into this massive world of whisky choice, that’s not a bad thing. In fact, young whisky is what I’m most excited about right now, as I fall head over heels with Ardnamurchan and all they are doing.

Young whisky often tastes like creamy new-make with a smorgasbord of toffee. Some new releases are able to add other interesting notes above that - more spice, salinity or more developed fruit notes, but a lot of young whisky we’re seeing from the plethora of fantastic new distilleries is of that ilk. This Bimber, the 2nd expression from this distillery I've tried, is head and shoulders above a lot of whisky not just from new distilleries, but in general whisky consumption. The first I tried was a sample of Bimber Peated and it was decent stuff. This is an altogether different whisky proposition.

What I love about it is the clarity, or maybe more accurately the cleanliness. It's like a laser beam. There's darkness all around it but when I step into the path of the beam I'm at once blinded and then vaporised shortly thereafter. In that moment between the two states I feel alive. Purely, cleanly alive. The ABV surely has a lot to do with this, bumping off 58%.

A lot of my whisky journey has been spent chasing the next flavour diorama, the ones that take you on a whimsical tour of taste and smell and spit you out the other side with a big grin on your face. Things like Benromach or Kilkerran, Ardnamurchan or Glen Scotia, where the whisky experience develops over the duration of your time with it. When tasting a new whisky and it doesn't do this, it isn't boring for me. It simply doesn't tingle the fingers in the same way; massively fun and enjoyable instead, it grows the dictionary, if nothing else.

Controversially with this Bimber, it is very much a singular experience, with the journey from first sip to licking the bowl remaining quite the same. But, this one does tingle the fingers. The greying eyebrows shoot upwards, and the bloodshot eyes grow in size. And that comes down to the resonant flavour profile for my preferences. It's joyful. A blast of purple fruit direct to my frontal cortex.

I’ve realised recently that big, deep sherry bombs are not for me. Edradour, Glenrothes PX, GlenAllachie 10 and others just don't do it - liquid raisin isn't what my motor runs on. Yet this cask of whisky has been matured in 100% oloroso. What gives? I think it's a combo of youthful spirit amplifying the sherry aspect of an oloroso matured whisky, and in doing so the whisky is wrestled out from the dark, dense, complex raisin labyrinth, and thrust up into the fresh, airy, bright sunlit skies above.

I feel guilty knowing very few will get the opportunity to try this because the outturn was so little and the price at auction so high. I got lucky and as a result my whisky experience and my dictionary have expanded a little bit more, adding this group of flavour notes to the freshly bound pages. I'm thankful I’ve managed to find a cask of whisky that in my opinion is exceptional, even if it means I'm waving chocolate cake in your faces.

Score: 8/10

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

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