Official Bottling 2021 | 46% ABV

Check those dusty shelves!

We all start our journey with a particular distillery somewhere. It might be a sample given to you by a friend, or even a miniature gifted at Christmas, but when paths cross, it can deliver a revelatory experience, or a damp squib. I’ve had some wonderful experiences discovering new (to me) distilleries, like Glen Garioch, Linkwood and Ardbeg. I’ve also had some not so good experiences, like Bladnoch. Some celebrate the funkiness of their 11 year old annual release, but I found musty macaroni cheese. Regardless, there’s something out there for everyone and the thrill of finding a new seam of amber that you can tap into is a joyous moment.

I bought my first bottle of Arran after watching Ralfy announce the subtly presented, affordably priced 10 year old as his whisky of the year 2021. I took a new bottle of it to a wedding shortly after and not only did it disappear quicker than the groom’s composure, but a few whisky naysayers in attendance were converted (and subsequently bought many bottles!). For me, it signalled my expansion into Arran’s ecosystem, with the Sherry Bodega next; given my journey into whiskyland through the gates of sherry casks, this was familiar ground, and very much enjoyable; sort of a lighter expression of the tongue-blaster I’d been enduring in Aberlour’s A’Bunadh. 

As a result I decided the 18 was my next lofty purchase but, with the popularity of Ralfy’s recommendation, the availability of these bottlings was lagging. I found one solitary bottle available, away up in Inverness-shire. Add that one to the basket: job done. But wait, there’s still one showing as available? Two added successfully, because of selfish opportunism, with checkout completed and collection arranged in Inverness, thanks to my very understanding sister-in-law. I received a call not 10 minutes later from the whisky shop with a predicament. A few moments before I arrived on their website, the staff at the shop had been rifling through their store-room and found an old-style bottle of the Arran 18, presumed allocated to a customer, but with no records found. Freshly released from invisible shackles, they placed it onto the website and I snaffled it, mere moments later. But was I happy to receive both styles? You bet I was - suddenly I had a chance at experiencing both new and old styles of this premium age-stated whisky. Luck be a lady tonight!

I tell you all that, to tell you this: I am not convinced with the 18, in its new guise. It’s tasty. It’s complex and there’s loads to find and enjoy, but for me it doesn’t “stand out” enough to warrant the £70 price tag I paid for it. After working methodically through a good chunk of it, I feel confident now in my tepid reception - I’ve paid far less and enjoyed far more other whiskies. A very firm 5/10 - a solid dram not particularly worthy of the price - not for me anyway, I’m sorry Arran please forgive my transgressions. I decided to decant the remainder into a smaller bottle, freeing up the age stated bottle to accept the contents of ye olde 18. Why wouldn’t I just open the bottle and pour from that, you ask? Well I don’t want to go into too much detail, but my recently completed, bespokely designed and expertly lit whisky superzone…doesn’t accept taller bottles. It is what it is darling, ok? I did read the drawings and yes I did measure the bottles, but...moving on.

I marked the end of a quite turbulent 2021 with the purchase of Arran’s 21 year old; a significant age stated whisky for a significant year. I promised myself that, upon completing the whisky superzone, I’d open it as a celebration - of making it through, of completing something. As the excitement of decantation was happening, I opened this specially presented, blue labelled beauty and began the experience of what 120 British pounds sterling afforded. Immediately I knew it’s more aligned with what I love in a whisky. But…hold that thought. With old-style 18 years of age contents now fully dripped into the new-style bottle, I squeaked the cork on and placed it gently beside the 21, both now illuminated uniformly thanks to my uplit warm white 3000k supershelves. To say that both whiskies are visually similar is akin to saying Dua Lipa’s “Levitating” is similar to Artikal Sound System’s “Live Your Life”. It’s identical and I should know: I have eyes, but what’s in a whisky colour anyway? All that matters in this endearing world of distilled yeast water is the smell and the taste. It would be far more pivotal if one were to discover the two age separated bottlings were incredibly similar in smell and taste, and that’s never…

Review

2021 Bottling, 46% ABV
£120 at launch, now out of stock

The Arran 21 comes delivered in a rather wonderfully wrapped, Oxford blue cardboard box. It’s a testament to Arran’s eco-credentials that the use of wood or metal is eschewed in favour of card, and tastefully done too. Debossed, gilt foiling. Embossed clear varnished logos and magnetic closures hide the prize; opening the flap reveals a precision cut, double-layer foam interior framing the reflective glass vessel and blue satin ribbon under the neck, for easy removal. It’s an exercise in understated confidence. Arran doesn't need pomp. They have subtly textured, recyclable materials instead…with exception to the foam, but how else do you secure hold a fragile bottle inside this efficiently sized box? I can forgive them for this one divergence, but only because it’s a semi-necessity.

Out of the box the whisky glows beautifully bright amber. Compared to the darker, sherry heavy 18 the longer matured spirit already looks lighter and more elegant. It has a refined golden hue to it, not garish or synthetic and this pleases me. The cork extracts from the shallow neck of the bespoke Arran bottle without much excitement, and the whisky flows into the glass smoothly without glugging - my aim is true today and all drops find their way. Let the smell and taste experience commence!

Nose

An hour in the glass for each year in the cask is what Ralfy recommends, but I ignore him this time and get stuck straight in; tight spice, a flash of matchbox striker and the distinctive Arran signature, but not a lot else. Ralfy wins; I leave it for a moment and take the bins out. Then forget about it. Coming back some time later I am met with a burst of lime flowing into green fruits, apple more than others, and then that same apple dipped in caramel. The nose keeps shifting, to pear now then marzipan, cinnamon apple crumble with orange zest on top. This is magnificent. There’s a minerality to the nosing experience throughout; an earthy, chalky note that underpins everything, and I really like that. I’ve never been in a dunnage warehouse, so I can only assume that’s what that smells like.

Palate

I impatiently ignore Ralfy again by sipping straight from the neck pour, and it follows the nose; a tight, spicy whack and not much else. After bins and some wanton disregard for poured whisky, I conclude my nosing with a generous sip and I’m consumed with waves of bright, fresh toffee apples and hints of Parma Violets - chalky but floral and sweet. A dull clay note. The chalky sweetie theme continues but moves more towards those annoyingly hard to read Love Hearts; my daughter’s favourite thing at present - “what does this one say Daddy?” Daddy can’t find his specs but he thinks it says More Whisky. A zingy, sweetly astringent pop accompanies more silken caramel streams and I am transported into the amber wonderland. This is whisky as I understand and love it. I luxuriate in the mouth filling, nose tingling presence of this most delicious dram. The finish is decently long and tapers off into a baking spice trail, reminiscent of motherly baking of a Sunday.

The Dregs

Drinking in comparison is the best: it reveals flavours in whisky that, for some reason, didn’t show themselves in isolation. It affords a great chop-and-change of intermingling flavours and gasps of wonderment as each new sip uncovers more delicate flavours. With the 21 securely in glass, I pour an old-style 18 next to it, and a Glen Garioch 12 in a third, for laughs. I’ll leave the hairy Garioch thoughts for another time, but at this point I lean over and, with trepidation, firmly affix the tin-foil hat to my head. 

I cannot tell the appreciable difference, in sight, smell or taste, between the old-style Arran 18 and the second-from-top Arran 21. It’s remarkably similar, if similar was another way of saying identical. You’d think there’d be nuances that separate them - little blips here and there of this or that - but frankly there is little to separate them. The spicy arrival of freshly poured spirit - same. The opening up after time of lime zest waft petering to toffee apple indulgence - same. The lasting endearment of complex flavours all peaking and troughing, opening and closing - same. I don’t know what to make of it - is this a symptom of a youthful palate? Am I, in some subconscious way, influencing the 18’s profile to replicate the 21’s because I love a good conspiracy? I’m sure I’m not, but there’s undeniable signs of confluence here. The 18, in the pre-change, tall bottled, dark labelled guise was discontinued and, upon re-emergence, was a completely different presentation of spirit. Not just a tweak, but markedly different - different cask makeup, different colour, smell and taste. 

Why did Arran, given the clearly supreme dram that the 18 was, change it? There was already a 21 year old bottling available before, at that point the oldest Arran whisky available. Now we see that a 25 has made its way into the lineup, and as a core expression to boot. It’s a question that will no doubt remain just that, but there’s an inkling to think that they’ve made use of that primo 18 year old spirit to bolster their older stocks, paving the way for a 25 year old in the future and, by extending the range, opened a gap to fill with the new look 18.

The conclusion is this, then: if you happen to have a bottle of old-style Arran 18 year old in your cache, you needn’t pursue the new-style 21 because, to me at least, they are one and the same. Hugely enjoyable, beautifully balanced and tempered dram, with gorgeous mouthfeel and indistinguishable flavour profiles; but £50 more expensive than what the old 18 year old would’ve commanded - maybe that foam packaging is worth re-considering after all.

Score: 7/10

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

Other opinions on this:

Aqvavitae (Recycled Reviews)

The Dramble (previous 21yo livery)

Ralfy

Top Shelf Whisky

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