World premieres are not really our cup of tea, nor Glencairn. Used to our Mediterrenean slow times, we usually review the new releases eons late. But one of us was born with a silverspoon in his mouth – as well as with a beard just below – and he was recently invited to Islay for Ardbeg Day, stumbling upon one of something causing us to hate and love and envy him at the same time: the world launch of a new ultra-premium bottling from the LVMH group distillery: Ardbeg ‘The Abyss’.
So, while he and some of his colleagues in fortune and journalism were having a great time in a boat off the distillery, gorging on raw fresh scallops and lobster, out of the waters of the Inner Hebrides a scuba diver popped up – like a masculine Botticelli’s Venus -, bearing a mysterious metal crate obviously filled with a precious bottle. Presented by David Blackmore (pictured below), the global ambassador of Ardbeg and Glenmorangie, our correspondent had the priviledge to taste it, he took home a decent sample, and now we present and review it for you.
When Ardbeg launched the first limited release of the Corrywreckan in 2008, two heavily toasted European oak casks that contained whisky distilled in 1989 were “spared” and remained in the warehouse until now. When Dr. Bill Lumsden, the creative genius who has been churning out Ardbeg and Glenmorangie’s most original releases for years, decided to use them for this bottling. 400 bottles of 34-year-old single malt bottled at 48.4% ABV. Which doesn’t sound bad. Anyway, .
As usual, such an exclusive edition (£21,250, sold on the website and at the distillery), comes with two must-have ingredients: creative storytelling and ridiculously amazing packaging. Which one do you want us to start with?
Let’s start with the story: the Corrywreckan bottling is dedicated to the sea whirlpool located off Islay, the third largest in Europe. According to the Gaelic folklore, the Viking prince Breachan, in order to marry the daughter of the Lord of the Isles, was forced to survive three nights in the whirlpool. Unfortunately, the three ropes that anchored his ship broke one after another, and the poor lover plunged into the depth of the sea.
‘The Abyss’ starts from here and imagines a new life for our hero. A journey through time and space all the way to Planet Ardbeg, which was put on paper by American comics artist Tradd Moore (pictured below, right). Tradd, having illustrated the most popular Marvel comics, has signed a limited edition of a graphic novel, that comes with the bottle.
And we come to the second ingredient: the packaging. ‘The Abyss’ is presented in a sort of hermetically sealed opening mechanism scape, reminiscent of space capsules, which took two years of planning and work to make. We will never complain about the cardboard boxes of our bottlings again, we swear….
We have talked far too much, now it’s time to taste this sunken treasure. The color is an impressive mahogany, probably we’d never seen an Ardbeg this dark before.
N: this is going to be a long, labyrinthine review, because right from the start we’re struck by an incredible amount of aromatic suggestions. All right, first things first. The initial nose immediately shows a twofold soul: on the one hand, a surprisingly intense maritime peat, starting with smoked herring and arriving to manure, passing through a distinct sensation of baked, pickled black olives. There is something Campbeltownesque about this nose. Following the thread of a still wild and oily, almost greasy peat, reminiscent of blue cheeses, we come to the second soul, which is the fruity one. From cheeses to the jams that pair with cheeses, in short. Plum jam, prunes, a wonderful theory of black pepper, clove. The fruit is absolutely elegant and smooth. From this compact core of processed fruit, flashes of lime juice explode: the distillery’s DNA emerging from the depths of time and powerful wood. There is also something else, popping up after some time and oxygenation: roasted chestnuts, chestnut honey and a hint of iron, of rusty anchors encrusted with salt. We can go on for hours…
P: no, we’ve never had an Ardbeg like this. From the first sip, it is reminiscent of the old Armagnacs. Then again, that’s the wood: the French oak, with its tannins, can develop that “rancio” touch, so common in ultra-aged French wine spirits. But let’s try again to follow an order: plum is still queen, with a sensational fig jam and even some orange, a bit wilted and moldy. Black cherries, too. And so far we’re talking about wood and fruit, but leaving out something that grows and scream and becomes glorious: the umami soul. Grilled pepper steak, peat and brine again, white pepper, salted caramel, but also moist pipe tobacco. And a killer salted peanut cream. The sensory journey in the mouth starts with fruit, passes through umami and lands on wood. The second palate is dry, not astringent but gradually drier. Curiosity: with time, a floral veil of hay and talcum powder also comes through.
F: deep and very long, well balanced. Which is the real miracle. Burnt seaweed, dirty black olives, prunes and baked chestnut, forgotten in a barbecue. Now there’s a hint of astringency, but a balsamic hint keeps it from the dark side, that so often taints the very old whiskies.
We have never spared our irony for certain marketing excesses and sky-high prices, but we have always said that here we review merely the liquid. And this liquid is excellent, 92/100. It may not be Breachan’s psychedelic trip to the underworld, but this Ardbeg is still a unique journey. It’s unique because super-toasted European oak casks are not very common, especially for such long aging.
The result is whisky still very recognizable as an Ardbeg, obviously enriched by those deep notes of oak, so typical of old Armagnacs, and by a mighty spiciness that never overpowers the fruit or the distillery’s DNA. Those glares of fresh citrus in the midst of a triumph of wood and peat (still unsuspectedly mighty) are impressive.
That said, no accounting for taste: those used to Islay malts matured in bourbon casks might find it a bit “too much”, because the tannins here are roaring. But experimenting is the point of living. Of course, as long as you get jewels like this.
Recommended soundtrack: Slayer – Seasons in the Abyss
