George Hotel, Inveraray Single Cask | 57.8% ABV

A Golden Age of Geekery

We whisky fanatics are lucky. There are so many different aspects to this amber liquid with which to get our geek on. And bloody geeks we are. 

Right now it’s evening in our flat, my partner is watching Netflix while gently sipping her evening tea, and an attentive partner would be watching with her or sharing conversation about our day. I, on the other hand, am staring at my laptop pounding keys about the thing that’s in the glass in front of me, with some books about the thing opened and sprawled around me.

She looks over and seems as if she wants to ask a question, but something about the way I’m maniacally hunched over my laptop, glowing screen creepily lighting up my face from below, tapping away while sipping from my Glencairn with ten browser tabs open to whisky sites with open whisky books piled on top of one another around me. . . she turns back to her Netflix. I don’t see it, but I can feel an eye roll. I can’t blame her, to be honest. But, there’s Very Important Research to be done for you, dear Dramfacers, and so I turn back to my glowing screen and crack on. After this next sip.

While the process of making whisky is relatively straightforward, the nuances are of course wonderfully and stupendously varied which encourages all sorts of geekery. The relationship of ABV to flavour. How the angle of the lyne arm affects how the spirit is captured. How the shape of the still influences character. Whether a distillery has worm tubs or not. Steel or wooden washbacks. Cut points. How the size and fill history of a cask relates to the spirit. The location of warehouses. Age. And so on. 

Once we’ve made our way through the standard supermarket offerings and our palates begin to demand more – more substance, more interest, more flavour – we migrate to other higher strength official bottlings, the indie scene, and single cask offerings where we often find many of the most interesting permutations and experiments of our favourite distilleries. Yet producers themselves do frequently experiment. Most of these experiments are variations of cask finishes, or releasing a spirit at a different age or ABV than the standard core range. On rare occasions we even see distilleries teaming-up for a one-off experiment, such as Kilchoman and Ardnamurchan’s blending of two casks from the distilleries. Loch Lomond has been giving us some terrific experimentation with chardonnay wine yeast during their fermentation and other fantastic fun through their Distillery Edition releases.

Barley varieties are another aspect where we are starting to enjoy some experimentation and variation. Most of the industry tends to use a small handful of modern varieties, which you’ve probably heard of if you were paying attention on the distillery tour: Optic, Belgravia, Laureate, Concerto, Propino, and a few others are standards. There are good reasons why distillers use these modern varieties: they’re high-yield and therefore much better for the bottom line, they’re less susceptible to disease and bad weather than varieties of yore, and of course produce tasty spirit for us to enjoy. Unless we’re specifically told by the tour guide as we’re cautiously sniffing and sipping the rocket-fuel new-make in the still room, most of us probably cannot taste the differences between these varieties, as they are evidently very similar. 

In his wonderfully breezy and readable book MacLean’s Miscellany of Whisky, Charlie MacLean notes that the prevailing wisdom in the industry is that barley variety generally contributes little to the flavour of the final matured product (p. 124) – although, as we’ll see, not everyone agrees. It does, though, affect the yield as mentioned: the amount of alcohol that can be obtained per ton derives from the grain’s capacity to germinate and on its starch content. The variety also affects how well it mashes. 

MacLean (p. 125) discusses how the earliest kinds of “heritage” or “landrace” barley in Scotland was six-row bere: it was low-yielding but could hold up to the cold and wet climate of the Highlands. Bruichladdich, of course, continues to use this heritage variety in their very tasty Bere Barley series; you can find the hot takes of yours truly and Broddy on two different vintages in the Dramface archives.

By the 19th century farmers and distillers found out that two-row varieties were better performing in many areas. Scotch Common was one example of a two-row variety that was weak-strawed and low-yielding but had favourable mashing qualities of low dormancy (i.e., the grain is easier to coax into germination) and fast germination (i.e., more batches can be produced more quickly). By the 20th century hybrids began to be developed and by the 1940s accounted for 80% of barley grown for malting (p. 126). Dominant post-war varieties such as Maris Otter and Proctor were brought to Scotland but could not adequately survive the harsh Scottish climate, and so had to be shipped north from England but also as far as the US, Australia, and Canada.

Enter Golden Promise. Because it was expensive to ship barley from elsewhere – particularly as the demand for Scotch whisky was rising considerably by the 1960s – distillers needed a variety that could be grown in Scotland. As MacLean (p. 126) continues, Golden Promise was and is a “semi-dwarf” variety, which means a hybrid developed with modified stem height and grain weight that kept the grain from being too heavy to bend the plant and spoil on the ground. Golden Promise matured early even in cold and windy Scotland, and so became popular after it was introduced in 1966. Though, as newer hybrid varieties were developed that could yield more litres of alcohol per ton of malt, Golden Promise fell out of favour. 

While today, with Ardnamurchan, we are out on the windy west coast of Scotland on the shores of Loch Sunart, Speyside Macallan is of course well-known for using Golden Promise when other distilleries had long since converted to more efficient modern hybrids. Macallan are quite evasive on their website about barley varieties they use, amidst the limited-this and luxury-that. An old interview with then-Master Distiller David Robertson from 2002, though, sheds some light on things from that era.

Robertson declares that, at least at that time, the typical ratio of a batch was 25% Golden Promise and the rest a modern variety such as Optic or Chariot. Even composing 25% of a batch, Robertson argued that in tests they conducted “without Golden Promise the new make spirit lacked guts and oiliness. Using 25% Golden Promise is enough to get the character we want – the gutsy, oily, creaminess that we look for in new make spirit.” While it’s difficult to determine whether Macallan still adheres to this proportion, if still using Golden Promise at all, at that time Robertson at least spoke to the distinct qualities that this variety is commonly held to possess.  

So, do differences in barley strain actually make a difference to the spirit? In one of his other many books, Malt Whisky: The Complete Guide, MacLean recounts a conversation with a distillery manager who said that when distilling with a heritage variety he had to “run the foreshots for an hour and a half before spirit could start to be saved, where he would normally expect to run foreshots for only half of that time” (58). From that MacLean concludes that barley type does matter to production, although he acknowledges that the difference is tough to quantify. Other new distilleries are using hybrid and heritage varieties in their production, suggesting that they agree, or at least find the prospect of unique flavours and textures from different varieties tantalising enough that they’re experimenting. 

Holyrood Distillery manager Calum Rae, for example, recently said that they are using heritage grains because of the different flavours and textures compared to more standard varieties, and noted that they have worked with heritage varieties such as Chevallier, Golden Promise, Plumage Archer, Maris Otter, and Hana.

You get the point: there’s enough evidence and experience out there to strongly suggest that barley variety matters, perhaps even in big ways. My grainy deep dive here very much follows Dougie and Tyree’s earlier deep dive, so do have a read of their fascinating discussion on Ardnamurchan’s Golden Promise – it’s well worth your time.

Review 1/2 - Drummond

Ardnamurchan Golden Promise, George Hotel Exclusive, Cask 1062, August 2018 distilled, 57.8% ABV
£85 paid via Royal Mile Whiskies

My first encounter with Ardnamurchan’s Golden Promise malt was actually Dougie’s distillery hand-fill banger. He had given our mutual friend Sabrina a sample when she was hiking and fighting the midges on Skye, and she generously shared it with me when we were having a few drams in Glasgow. I was struck immediately by the same viscous malty thunderbolt that hit Dougie. As Sabrina and I went through dram after dram that night, we kept aside the wee sample of the Golden Promise as that was clearly going to be the crowning final sip on a night full of great drams. 

For the next few weeks I kept a close eye online to see if an Ardna Golden Promise release appeared anywhere and sure enough, Royal Mile Whiskies tweeted out a post to this release bottled specially for the George Hotel in lovely Inveraray. At £85 it wasn’t cheap, to be sure. But, these are the going rates for single cask releases from several new distilleries including Ardnamurchan, and I think it’s fair to continue to ask questions about the prices for single casks even of distilleries we love. But, remembering that wee sample of Dougie’s bottle had me almost believing that this was possibly the best Ardnamurchan I’ve tasted to date. I took the plunge, card info entered, and a few days later that blue special edition bottle was at my door. I opened it that same evening.

The label helpfully tells that this is a single cask of unpeated spirit from Golden Promise barley matured in a Spanish oak ex-Oloroso sherry butt at 57.8%. Mine is one of 694 bottles. A quick scan of the QR code reveals a 2018 vintage, and with a March 2024 bottling date makes this around six years old. While there are still currently two other single cask Golden Promise releases floating around, including one bottled by the ever-excellent Good Spirits Company in Glasgow (which Wally is currently chewing on in the background and promises to share with you all tomorrow), I only have this one and so can’t compare this to the others.

But I do have the next closest thing, the AD/Sherry Cask Release. While it’s not exactly like-for-like, I’m hoping that sipping these two sherried Ardna’s next to each other will help to demonstrate what the Golden Promise barley is bringing to the table compared with the more standard Concerto used in the Sherry Cask Release. 

Today’s added bonus is that Wally, in his own Golden Promise exploration, has been into this single cask release too, and will share his thoughts below.

Nose

Sherry Cask: Rich red fruits – stewed cherries and berries alongside dunnage earthiness. That distinct Ardna salty minerality drizzled with sherry and pine resin oil on a wooden bench. 

Golden Promise: Chalky minerality, salty, malty, vibrant red berries, sherry spices such as nutmeg and cinnamon. Doesn’t have the earthy quality of the Sherry Cask nose, but instead more like barley dust on a dirt road. A pot of stewed cherries sitting in a barley field next to the sea. Polished wooden desk, malty cherry gumdrops, and a kind of buzzy vibrancy that’s hard to articulate.

Palate

Sherry Cask: Salty, earthy minerality. Cinnamon, stewed berries, a pinch of salt, creamy, sherry-flavoured syrup. Good coating mouthfeel with a clear arrival, development, and finish which is salty red berry compote sitting in a dunnage warehouse. 

Golden Promise: Intensely, vibrantly malty. Syrupy red berry viscosity coating a pile of barley sugar. Oak and sherry. Coastal and malty: sea breeze blowing through barley fields. Pine oil, salty and sweet caramel chocolate bar, and creamy vanilla. Superb texture and mouthfeel: viscous, thick, syrupy, coating, vibrant, heavy, and treacly. Minutes later I’m still licking it off the back of my teeth. The insides of my cheeks are painted with it. Flashes of something herbal and acetone before giving way again to salty malty sweetness.

The Dregs

My goodness. 

I’ll confess that I’m indeed an Ardnamurchan fan, but far from an uncritical one. That said, this really hits it out of the park.

Drinking this alongside the already delicious AD/Sherry Cask Release just brings home what this rarely used strain of barley brings to the experience. And at six years of age, it’s simply remarkable. As this bottle is now past the shoulder and starting to open up, I have no problem saying that this is the best Ardnamurchan I’ve yet tried. Not only that, this is probably the best dram I’ve yet had in 2024. 

How much other Golden Promise aqua vitae rests in those warehouses up the hill from the distillery on the shores of Loch Sunart? Will we get to taste a 10 or 15 year old cask strength Ardna Golden Promise at some point? This is simply stunning at roughly six years old, and so whatever pure alchemy they’ve filled into casks that are now slumbering away on that gorgeous west coast locale that we were lucky enough to visit last year, I just hope they have more. 

My mind starts racing with all sorts of potential dream drams: what would a Golden Promise Bunnahabhain, Ledaig, Benromach, or Springbank taste like? A Golden Promise Glen Scotia, Mortlach, Kilkerran, or Bruichladdich? Lord Almighty. Who knows if we will ever see such things, but as I’m sipping this triumph of a dram my brain is leaving reality and wondering why everything can’t be Golden Promise. What was everyone thinking when they ditched this? What could have been?! I glide into a Big Lebowski dream sequence of swimming in Golden Promise spirit with Bob Dylan’s “The Man in Me” playing while wearing my bowling outfit.

As my partner finishes her tea and turns off the TV I snap back to reality, and I remember that there are of course very good reasons why things are done as they are. Distillers need grains that make economic sense. Current realities hit hard elsewhere of course. We rightly gripe about prices being an issue – many things are simply too ridiculously expensive for what they are. Marketing fluff is cynical and insulting. Cask investment cowboys take advantage of those wanting to ride the current wave. 

And yet. We’re around right now to get to try spirits such as this. We’re around and have the privilege of watching these new distilleries grow and mature, who are building the foundations for craft Scotch single malt whisky for the decades to come. Years from now we’ll talk about how we got to try whisky from such-and-such distillery when it was just starting. Folks will ask us what it was like, and we’ll wax lyrical. We’re around to get to mark the milestones of their early years. And boy is this one a milestone.

Score: 9/10 DD

Review 2/2 - Wally

Ardnamurchan Golden Promise, George Hotel Exclusive, Cask 1062, August 2018 distilled, 57.8% ABV
£85 paid via Royal Mile Whiskies

Apologies to Drummond, I held up this write up thinking I’d be speedier at contributing to either this piece or a close look at its sister cask; the 1060 Golden Promise Oloroso Butt released by Glasgow’s Good Spirits Co. In the end, so happy swimming in these bottles of glorious, unctuous, silky and spiced delights, I decided to write up both.

Check back tomorrow for my take on another Golden Promise Ardna that had everyone chattering like happy little whisky fans. Unless you don’t want to read any more Glenbeg joy. In which case, avoid.

Today we’ll focus on the one that declares that it’s specifically “first-fill Spanish oak oloroso” while I make a polite request to all whisky makers - more Golden Promise please. I’m still making my mind up about its impact on flavour, but simply from a texture perspective it’s gorgeously palpable.

Let’s start with the fact that Mr Crystal was supposed to be contributing to this piece. But he loved his bottle so much he squeezed every last dreep out of his bottle without as much as a tasting note. With a burp and a toss the bottle is rinsed and rendered a Dougie memory. Albeit a very happy one.

I said I’d have a swing at it instead. And I’m very happy to.

Nose

Figs; fudgey and ripe. Cappuccino and cinnamon, fizzy ginger ale, cola cubes, cider vinegar, basil and mint.

Palate

Spiced, rum, cherry liqueur, caramelised brown sugars and fudge. Ripe plums, dates and those figs dosed in brandy, dark salted chocolate, cherry cola and menthol. A long acidic and slightly drying, spiced finish. Everything is ridiculously chewy and thick. I challenge you to sip without chewing.

The Dregs

I’m not sure if you can still buy this one, perhaps they still have some bottles available from The George Hotel directly but I’m not sure. Its sister casks are available from either The Whisky Exchange or Glasgow’s Good Spirits Co. and the latter will be reviewed here tomorrow, almost as a comparison review.

My point being, there was enough of this out there for everyone to grab one, to taste and understand the potential from the use of Golden Promise barley. For those of you interested, the team went into great detail here, as already mentioned by Drummond above - which compliments his insights nicely. Let me summarise by sharing a Dramface TL;DR: texture!

I note that I haven’t scored this as highly as my pal Drummond, but that’s okay, I’m delighted he’s loving this whisky as much as he is. I know that on another evening, in the right moment with the best company, Drummond and I could be raising glasses and declaring this the exciting future of whisky and scoring it an eleven. It’s an absolute cracker. 

Tiring of the Ardna love? Spoiler: there’s more tomorrow.

Score: 8/10 WMc

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

Other opinions on this:

Whiskybase

Words of Whisky (Sister Cask 1058 TWE)

Got a link to a reliable review? Tell us.