Bowmore 15yo Fèis Ìle
2022 First Fill Bourbon Release | 54.7% ABV
I Broke A Promise To Myself.
Let me start by sharing some of the things I like.
I like whisky. Shocking, I know. But before you get all eye-roly with me, what I actually mean is I like trying all of it; all styles, all profiles, all brands and all takes. I try to be a very open-minded sort when it comes to glasses of amber and I think that attitude helps me find nice things and it helps me define and refine the things I like best. Because yes, despite my greedy at times gotta-catch-em-all attitude, I'm the same as everyone else, I have very definite preferences, finite resources and limited capacities.
So, to retrace the salubrious path I’ve taken and discover where it has led me, let me start with the most obvious forks in the road and then whittle things down from there. We’ll end up in some kind of recognisable neighbourhood, understanding the kinds of whisky that might make it in my theoretical limited-space backpack as I become fussier at each junction.
Firstly, it’ll be Scotch. I make no apology here, it’s still the most interesting category and the most varied. For a few years at least. There are many brilliant alternatives and up-and-coming category powerhouses, not least from our very near neighbours, but for now it’s still all about Scotch for this fella. Next, I like a little peat smoke but, if I could choose; just a whiff. Enough to have me occasionally enquiring, “Is it or isn’t it?”. I like it when the smoke is used almost like a seasoning and less like a blanket. Thereafter, I’ll have it in its teenage years please and – inextricably linked to this – a refill cask or casks. Preferably ex-bourbon, before being rinsed with scotch on its first fill. A hoggie or a barrel, I care not. Finally, place it in honest and legible packaging; don’t polish, guild, footer or fuss. Chances are, upon reading these bottle specs, I’ll end up with something pretty damn good. It may occasionally be a little pale, but only by honest exposure will we undo what decades of clumsy “darker is older is tastier is better” implication and nonsense has given us.
I don’t doubt the folks behind the scenes at Dramface who catalogue our output might have deduced that the Wally scores to date have already betrayed these preferences. But I’ll share them here to be open, and perhaps to justify why I tripped over myself in Bowmore last month and bought when I said I wouldn’t. You see, on paper, the specs of this expensive bottle are close to the desert island sweet spot.
The only things adrift are the casks used; here they’re first-fill. Also, there’s no mention of colour and filtration status on the label, but the wee distillery shop folk said they thought it’s all natural, and other online spots such as Whiskybase back that up, so we’ll lead with the benefit of the doubt. Better if they said on the bottle but, before I get distracted, we’re in good order at the outset.
However, here’s where I swap out the happy quill for the weary pen of whinge. I have to say these words and I’m sad in my confidence that you’ll be in tiresome agreement. As I visited distillery shops on Islay during June, I was horrified by the pricing. This was despite being prepared for it being expensive. The statements from everywhere are loud and clear. “We are shamelessly short-term in pricing strategy and are happy to take your money – a lot of it”. Some didn’t really have a huge step-change since the last time I was there in 2020, but most did. Lagavulin even had unintentional bright illustrations displaying the recent trend. There’s a shelf with the 2022 Caol Ila Fèis Ìle in the distillery shop, but it’s sitting alongside the still available 2021 and 2020 releases, both with the original prices. While 2020’s 16yo will set you back £120, 2021’s 12yo was £145 and this year’s 15yo was £165. They’d be just as well placing an illustrative graph there.
Another place committing crimes of cynicism was Bunnahabhain, with shocking pricing at their new visitor centre. It pains me to share this because my love for that oh-so-remote place of tranquil and joyous pilgrimage is deep indeed, but you sense even the staff are red-faced at the distillery bottling and hand-fill pricing. I really don’t know how they justify it. They simply can’t. After the efforts folks make to go to the source, the last thing you should be doing is holding them to souvenir ransom.
Turning to merchandise instead I picked up a wall flag-type banner made of fairly thin felt material and measuring 90cm by 20cm. They wanted £100. I’m not kidding. To translate for our American cousins that’s around three feet by eight inches, and it’s an ad. It simply has a Bunnahabhain promo printed on it. It’s apparently sold out at £120 on the Bunnahabhain website, but there were stacks of them on the table at the distillery. Whoever is setting these prices needs to take a wee refreshing jump of reality off of the beautiful Bunnahabhain pier. Some cool, clear water from the Sound of Islay may do the sobering trick. That or an impending recession. Much like picking up a frisbee, it’s impossible to look cool reversing stupid pricing.
I was so jaded with all of this that I found it pretty easy to scoff, sneer and move on. Yet it was sad. Like so many spots and destinations, the cost of getting to Islay and just being there has also shot up uncomfortably in recent times. I chose to enjoy the people and the place more than the increasingly exclusive whisky. “I have plenty of bottles already” was my internal mantra and it was suiting me and my battered wallet just fine. Denying yourself expensive whisky purchases is actually not difficult to do when you’re already skint from just getting there. Besides, Islay really is one of the most marvellous places on the planet, distraction is easy. I did well to remind myself that the whisky is just a very nice bonus. Seeing it all as overpriced, I convinced myself to buy none of it. So I was really quite surprised when I strolled into Bowmore of all places and did exactly the opposite.
I was there simpy for a poke around and a chat, but was greeted with a warm smile and friendly welcome in their bar. I was informed they could lay on an additional tour if we’d like, as they handed me a free pour in a copita. Nice. (It was their weak 10yo, but we didn’t pay for it, so complaining would be in poor taste). It was a short stopover but there was a nice vibe to the place and it encouraged me to dwell a little in the shop. The shelves were well stocked with this Fèis Ìle release and upon discovering it was very close to my ideal whisky neighbourhood, laid out above, I almost buckled. Yet I held firm. It was £135.
However, mulling around meant I ended up with a free pour of that too. A small pour, but a generous gesture, and enough to light up my palate and show their 10yo for the sham it is. I stood for a quiet moment and felt the warm guilt of submission wash over me. It may have been only one or two sips, but in the moment they were glorious. I relented. I took my place in the queue, bottle and debit card in hand.
Herein lies a problem. After being battered and saddened by the often hilarious prices around all of the visitor centres, your resolve is gradually being eroded. To the point you arrive at Bowmore to find their 15yo cask strength Fèis Ìle release at “only” £135 and you almost feel it’s a bargain.
So let me wind this up with something I definitely don’t like. The bitterness of far too high pricing. Specifically, the proliferation of cynical pricing, not limited to exclusives and festival releases, because “some idiot will pay it”. It may be true, but just because you can charge these prices doesn’t mean you should. In the swell of whisky popularity you may make sales, but you’ll lose many more. You’ll be forfeiting the huge proportion of future sales which come from existing customers, exactly those you’ve alienated.
This is happening everywhere. It only takes one or two producers to be bold enough to step forward with silly pricing, and soon afterwards, through this raised bar, others feel they can do so too. Perhaps targeted with short-term profit and performance, it’s too tempting not to. Regulars spot it but others do not. When the magic of the moment is strong and the spectre of FOMO looms large, we’ve never had to be more resolute in our defiance. We are, at every turn, in danger of being fleeced. That ruins all whisky neighbourhoods.
Returning home with a heavy sense of regret and a far-too-expensive souvenir that you’ll never open and enjoy won’t encourage future pilgrimages. All of this behaviour adds to the hoarding. For whisky to continue its cyclical success it needs also to be consumed. Otherwise, the Glass Loch floods.
In summary, it’s whisky and I’m a weak man. In buying this I paid the high price and became part of the problem. There are folks paying even more, but I left Islay with just a single bottle. That’s never happened before. If things continue like this, I’ll leave next time with none. I’d rather leave my money on the island.
Anyway, now that it’s here, let’s see if it leaves me grateful or regretful.
Review
Bowmore 15yo 2022 Fèis Ìle Release 54.7% ABV
£135 at the distillery (while stocks last)
This can only be considered good value through the lens of comparison with other Fèis Ìle bottlings. Remember it’s only a 15yo, it may be cask strength and a festival release, but it’s still overpriced. With 3000 bottles, it’s not particularly limited (I’m a fan of larger outurns for these releases) and there was still plenty around in late June. There are many on the secondary market, but everyone’s playing the same Game of Gouge, it’s already stretching its value proposition at RRP.
Nose
Yep - sweet and ripe fruits, the exotic sort. Star fruit, mango and guava wrestle with thick toffee sauce and butterscotch. There's an oaky spice and its warming nature almost enhances the sense that these fruits are tropical. A light burst of vanilla-infused cigar smoke makes up the background.
Palate
A heavy and thick arrival brings a little wood polish and distracts a little from the waves of ripe fruit. Passion fruit joins the fruit bowl before it’s smothered in sweet and salted caramel, sprinkled with cinnamon and vanilla. There’s an active prickle bringing a feeling of soft white pepper and gentle peat smoke. Adding water brings welcome green notes; basil, guava and grapefruit pith, but it shortens the finish. Still, this is a very enjoyable pour.
The Dregs
The price means this bottle has to work harder than it should. I will say that, in its defence, it’s good Bowmore. It’s one of those distilleries that can be so recognisable at times and, when it plays to its strengths, it’s like nothing else. It’s easy to see why some crave that insanely fruity, tropical style.
This one is on that theme. But there are moments where the toffee, vanilla and caramel thing gets in the way of the freshness, and almost thwarts that splash of bright yellow and ripe fruit. Perhaps 15 years is on the cusp of what’s acceptable for first-fill casks, just a wee bit on the oaky side but still very, very drinkable. On balance, however, you’re better chasing a couple of Vault Edition Atlantic Sea Salt bottles for the same price.
If you’ve read this far, thank you. Here’s another wee bonus tip; don’t buy the 2022 (still available) Lagavulin Fèis Ìle, it’s not a great release and finishing mature Lagavulin in virgin oak is unintelligible. It seems it was not chosen by the distillery team; this is a shame and undoubtedly a cock-up. Instead, spend less on the NAS Distillery Exclusive. It’s a belter and uses 8yo, 12yo and 15yo stock and it was chosen by the distillery team. Much, much better.
Despite all the crazy, there remain nice places in every neighbourhood.
Score: 7/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. WMc