Cutty Sark Prohibition
Blended Scotch | 50% ABV
Do we become the whisky we hold dear?
While this should just be a review on a high proof blend, it begs the bigger question: Do we often hold a bottle in such high regard we start to lie to ourselves about it?
My fear is this article may pull away the mask and oust Gilbert's true face to the public due to the fact that, on several occasions, I’ve been fairly vocal about my passion about this bottle. Luckily the people who may know me by my other secret identity wouldn’t believe that I could read, let alone write. Then again if you read any of my past articles, both are still in question. Cheers to wonderful editors!
So hand on heart, I declare I’ve more than just a soft spot for Cutty Sark Prohibition and like any good hipster, I’ve turned this into a whole personality. I’m not saying I wear craft paper t-shirts with “The Real McCoy” etched into my arm, but I do proudly wear my whisky passion on my sleeve. Yet while I was screaming at my screen when Nikka From The Barrel beat it for Best Blended Whisky at the Online Scotch Whisky Awards, it was time to step back from the keyboard and take a hard look at myself. Fortunately, this deep black glass bottle reflects my soulless eyes quite effectively for some internal searching.
This is nothing new. If you visit the modern day relic of Facebook I am sure you’ll find someone on your friends list with a football badge as their profile picture (normally Manchester United) or do I dare mention the meme that is the yellow beasts, Minions? This also translates to the online whisky community where it only takes some mild digging to see this in action. People with distillery names in their twitter handle, photos of their favourite bottle as profile pictures and even a couple of accounts that have settled for a distillery logo to represent them. This may come as a shock, but during this intensive research, the three times I came across this… all were Springbank.
Are these just masks we place on ourselves, providing a very thin and ever shrinking slice of anonymity in the online world? Or are they visual shortcuts to tell the world a little about ourselves? Granted in the case of my Gilbert headshot, it’s a far more handsome facade than I could ever dream to be.
Like people say that dogs reflect their owners, have we switched it around where us, the owners, have become the ones wearing a lead and collar? No kink shaming here.
Surely this all seems quite obvious on a surface level and is no different to wearing a t-shirt with your favourite band. Or greater still is this closer to the passionate music gatekeeper who demands the person wearing the t-shirt lists of a couple of songs by the band. If this happens to anyone in an ever-trendy Metallica top, just give them ONE. So that is where this leads. Passion.
I agree we should all pride ourselves on our whisky preferences, even more so if they are slightly against the echo chambers. For example…
But can we pride ourselves so much on one bottle, we turn into our own self parody? We now pride ourselves on how much we pride ourselves over a bottle that makes us proud. While I’m not sure the previous sentence makes much sense, it’s how I felt returning to Cutty Sark Prohibition after quite a lengthy absence.
My first visit to this bottle, I was mildly gripped by the smuggler's story of Captain William McCoy and how this bottle steps away from the standard bright yellow label for a heritage-doused reflection of bottles during the Prohibition era. Now I type with a slightly crumpled kraft paper label and a misaligned Jim Murray Whisky Bible sticker placed on the bottle in front of me. Don’t worry, I’m not going down that rabbit hole. Maybe being in the review game brings a wash of cynicism into once joyful eyes, or the comparison list grows so rapidly the standard bar becomes much higher than it once was.
After a nervous glug pours out the frustratingly opaque bottle, I decide to embrace having the tide out in this dram as I’m unable to predict when this liquid will run dry. Possibly I’m just feeling fatigued, have a well overdue cold appearing or maybe just down to what I had for tea - a ready meal Toad in the Hole, due to having to fend for myself this evening and leaving it too late for anything exciting - but I don’t feel like preaching. This glass of artificially coloured rust left me sinking in my chair like the mast I tied myself to. People have purchased this bottle on my previous glowing recommendation, yet this is having no connection to my rose-tinted memories. Have I let them down and worse still, have I let myself down? I brace myself for mediocrity as the final sip passes my lips, only to be smacked with a rush of flavour poking the disappointing embers and reigniting the excitement I previously had.
Frantically pouring a much more filling follow-up glass, this boat is no longer sinking but crashing through the waves of my first draft review. I should point out that the Tea Clipper boat “Cutty Sark” doesn’t do any of this any more as it calmly rests at the Royal Museum in Greenwich, London.
KNOT only is this glass becoming a much more enticing golden ocean to explore but frankly it has left me in OAR. If you SEA this bottle out and A BOAT I would once again say grab it, of course no PIER pressure here. BUOY am I glad it is a bottle I can SAIL-ebrate again as it CUTTYs the mustard. Sorry I had to get those puns out of my head eventually.
Review
Cutty Sark Prohibition, blended scotch whisky, 50% ABV
£25 and widely available
While visually the bottle is subdued like the dram itself, the longer you spend with it the more you find: The drop shadow design on the word Prohibition, the label cut into a point like the bow of a boat and not forgetting the slightly raised glass elements. If like me you are also #teamcork this bottle avoids screwing up at the first hurdle, adding to the slightly premium feel to a budget blend. A big part of it for me is the fact they are putting out a 100º proof, non-chill filtered blend which doesn’t feel grain heavy at such an accessible price. I’ll possibly get stern looks giving it a score so high but I’m willing to go down with the ship on this one.
Nose
A subdued start which swiftly hits you with a hefty block of overly sea salted burnt fudge. Reminding me of the time I was nearly kicked out of a make your own fudge experience. Petroich sweetness is swiftly followed by the McDonald’s paper sachets of pepper which have been left to marinate in a puddle. I know that is a very Pacific taste, I guess when you wipe away the fluff I am trying to say there is an earthy, cardboard spice to it.
Palate
At first the 50% ABV swells around the mouth but quickly ebbs away leaving ruddy cheeks full of salted milk chocolate and those poorly designed chalky orange car sweets. Toffee, butter and biscuits create a sweet whirlpool with the odd hints of floral softness like rose petals down a bathtub plug. The rich grounded black pepper note anchors itself to the tongue, holding its own over each sip and pairing nicely with a warming finish of over-brewed green tea.
The Dregs
I’ve had to go through my entire ramble on this article as it earnestly started out as a tale of self reflection and being willing to throw away your convictions in the face of change. Yet the change itself, damned for another word… changed.
In that lies one of the many beauties of the glorious whisky world, some bottles knock us down, some bring us back up, while others can do both in the space of two glasses. For clarity, I’ve returned to write this bonus sentence a day later following a further sip to confirm my findings. I guess that all that is left is to try to start a joy fire with a bottle of Springbank (That’s three, I am now hoping for a bottle to appear very soon).
To wrap this in a nice outro before I set sail on this review, remember: Always be passionate in your palate, stay true to your tastes and proud of whatever whisky floats your boat.
Score: 7/10
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