Fèis Ìle Releases from 2022, 2023 & 2024 | Various ABV

I Dream of Islay

The sun is shining, the waves are crashing, aromatic peat is burning in the hearth, and rooms are ringing with the chimes of Glencairns swirling with Islay gold. It’s Feis Isle in Islay, or at least how it plays out in my dreams as I wake up in suburban Melbourne, and 30km away from the nearest shore.

Whisky can absolutely be a sense of place, and the one that rings loudest to me is Islay. Although not a national capital nor the region with the most whisky production, Islay has become the hallmark scotch whisky tourist destination. This may not have always been the case across scotch fandom history, but at least during my tenure as a whisky otaku, Islay has been the romantic whisky getaway.

The rugged shores, sea-kissed air and luscious seafood does make it a tantalising destination. Now, as if this wasn’t enough, they had to go and celebrate this bounty with their very own island whisky Christmas; the annual Fèis Ìle. Translated as ‘islay Festival’, it’s a 10 day celebration event of the island’s culture, music, traditions and also, of course, its whisky. This may not have always been the focal point of the festival in its inception, but over time the commercial and tourist success of Fèis Ìle for whisky has somewhat re-appropriated the celebration. It’s no surprise that Feis Ile has captured the romance of our whisky hearts, the Islay distilleries are among the fan favourites despite often being the most divisive by their peaty intense nature.

The Fèis Ìle special releases gained cult acclaim very quickly, starting with the Laphroaig Cairdeas bottlings and the Ardbeg Committee releases, and although the hype around those ranges aren’t what they used to be, the peat has caught fire and all the distilleries on the island are getting in on the bottlings. A chance now for all to bring something fresh, unique, or even challenging, albeit with a bit of a premium price tag.

Not missing a chance to market something new, SMWS got in on the Fèis fantasia, and has been doing Fèis Ìle special releases over the last few years. Whilst not something I totally get as their business is based on the mainland I don’t entirely begrudge them the chance to flog their Islay product as special ‘Fèis Ìle’ bottlings. It was through their ‘Make mòine a devil!’ 10.190 that I was introduced to the whisky love of my life; peated Bunnahabhain.

I make no secret that this is my style of whisky, something about that sweet smoke and grilled fish peat profile has me head over heels, and after this bottle it became the focus of my chase. Back in 2020 however, there were not the stacks of Staoisha we see today, especially down here in Australia. A few indies here and there, but peated Bunnahbahain was likely the least available Islay style in stores.

In the shakes of desperation I ventured to the furthest ends, the site that made the most sense, in my thirst I went straight to the Bunnahabhain online store and bought the Mòine Fèis Ìle release. These were not and still are not available at retail in Australia, however the last few unpeated releases have been made available. So really the only way to procure one is through their website or take a chance and wait it out for them to reach auction. The reckless retribution from such an impulsive purchase did not hit at the time, not even a fortnight later when what felt like a ransom letter appeared at the doorstep with an $86.50 AUD customs bill.

Could any whisky be worth the already premium price tag, shipping it over 17,000 kilometres, and a shiv to the kidney by the import tax duty? Well there’s no real binary answer to that, but this bottle shaped my whisky identity and may have invariably led me to Dramface, so your reward may not always be one of financial value.

It became the annual birthday present from Mrs. Dune for the last few years and although I haven’t yet been to the salty shores of Islay, the celebration of Fèis Ìle still rings loudly here in the western suburbs of Melbourne. The origin of this tradition, Mòine Amontillado Fèis Ìle 2020, has long been put to rest, as well as the 2021 Mòine Bordeaux release. In retrospect I would have rated the Amontillado an 8 and the Bordeaux a 9, they were stunning whiskies which were killed within their first six months of being opened. Admittedly, drinking habits were different during the Melbourne lockdown era of 2020-2021.

The three most recent Moine bottlings are all aged to their late teens with roughly similar vintages for their distillation year. As expected with Bunnahabhain there’s plenty of cask exploration around, with initial maturation periods in Bourbon we then have casks which held Tokaji, Madeira, Oloroso, and Rum. Normally this level of multi-coloured cask-bagging would have me suss that they aren’t confident in their core spirit, but as Ogilvie and myself shared here the peated Bunnahahain spirit takes well to colourful casking, though noting that the initial stint in bourbon may be paramount to any claims of success. Although it’s been months since the last Fèis Ìle, it’s time now to hop on board the time travelling ferry, and travel back to the Sound of Islay…

Review 1/3

Bunnahabhain Fèis Ìle 2022, Tokaji Moine 2004 Cask Finish, 52.2% ABV
£199 paid

Score: 9/10

**Exceptional.**
***TL;DR***
*Oh why can’t they all be this good?*

Nose

It’s spring and you’re taken to a field of jasmine flowers and honeysuckle. This floral bouquet is something I’ve only ever gotten from distillery released peated Bunnahabhain. There is melon bread and elderflower jelly with spun fairy floss, a sweet crisp nose that most certainly has the Tokaji cask to thank. This has been the one and only scotch whisky I’ve had with such casking so I am curious to see if all Tokaji cask whiskies are this floral and sweet.

As you dig deeper however the Mòine starts to bellow out its savoury smoke, white anchovies and grilled chicken kebab garnished with rosemary and sage burnt on an open fire. The daintiness echoes back and there is powdered sugar dust and petrichor, the latter of which always gives me pleasure in whisky but often not something I see from stuff that’s less than 20 years old. Time in the glass leads to more fresh herbal notes, with tarragon and freshly whisked matcha.

Palate

The peat announces itself on the palate, we’ve got charcoal chicken skin, roast turkey and mediterranean grilled fish. Sweetness supports the savoury with simple syrup, white chocolate chips, sweetened green tea and snacking grapes.

An incredibly vibrant palate that could align with any season or session, it’s the perfect tango of peated distillate and unique casking, why can’t all Islay whisky be this good? Over time we go to a fishy, peppery finished with fried whitebait and salt and pepper squid.

Score: 9/10

Review 2/3

Bunnahabhain Fèis Ìle 2023, 17yo Moine Triple Cask, 52.6% ABV
£195 paid

Score: 7/10

**Very good indeed.**
***TL;DR***
*Similar, and still excellent, but not quite as complete*

Nose

Another sweet entry with grilled peaches and pineapple drizzled with golden syrup. Canned seafood in the savoury realm with smoked mussels and octopus in olive oil. Not as deeply sweet, floral or fragrant as the 2022 Feis Ile, but ending again with a herb note of blackened rosemary from a Sunday roast.

Palate

The singed meringue of a bombe alaska with bitter caramel shards and candied walnuts. The fish element here is a salt-baked snapper, with tarragon coming in again. Ending with oysters kilpatrick and the saccharine sweetness of cotton candy grapes.

Score: 7/10

Review 3/3

Bunnahabhain Fèis Ìle 2024, 19 Year Old Mòine Madeira Cask Finish, 51.2% ABV
£199 paid

Score: 8/10

**Something special.**
***TL;DR***
*The most potent with the longest finish and the ‘grippiest’ palate*

Nose

This year the fragrantness is back, medieval Middle Eastern incense smoke of frankincense, sandalwood and myrrh. Binchotan charcoal grilled eel garnished with pink peppercorns, orange rind and citrus oils. Sticky thai grilled pork neck garnished with holy basil and mint. The global contours of the aromas in this whisky are astounding, waves from the Middle East, Japan, Scotland, and Thailand. I’ve also noticed that different glasses open up the aroma of this whisky differently, in a glencairn it is sweet and smokey but in something like a blender’s glass there are complex herbals and bouquets of spices.

Palate

Hot pepper crusted smoked salmon kedgeree with a hefty squeeze of lemon, this whisky is mouthwatering. The madeira kicks in with caramelised mangoes and blood plums, leading into toasted hazelnuts and a sticky walnut tart. Savoury waves from a pepper steak pie before you’re reminded you’re in Islay again there’s a beach bonfire with licks of sea-spray. This is a bonfire party that rages on to the early hours of dawn because the finish is long, definitely the one with the most grip out of the three I’m tasting here.

The 2021 Bordeaux I remember being long as well, though the youthfulness of that whisky helped to bring the spice and heat. If I really had to rank them all, it would be 2021 Bordeaux, 2022 Tokaji, 2024 Madeira, 2020 Amontillado, and then last the 2023 Triple Cask, which doesn’t exactly hit the sublime heights of the rest but does pretty bloody well.

Score: 8/10

The Dregs

I’ve spent a fair bit of time banging on about the layers of costs associated with getting these releases, which might seem pointless given an almost fair value proposition from the independently bottled Staoisha’s. But I have to argue that there's somehow something distinctive about a peated Bunnahabhain actually from Bunnahabhain themselves.

The peat is slightly less intense and more fragrant, the smoked fish quality is more abundant, and the cask integration has been handled with the deft hand of a Carlos Alcaraz drop shot. That being said, there are better quality Bunnahabhains out there, there will always be indies or luxury vintage bottles that reach the top levels of quality, close even to that elusive 10/10 score.

On the other hand there are also much better value propositions, with IBs like Cadenheads or Signatory there are options for peated Bunnahbahain that don’t reach the realm of silly, like an IB Ardbeg or Lagavulin might.

But the comparison I always come back to is watches; as I look down on my Seiko Presage I think “well, it tells me the time” - much like something I could probably slap on my wrist for a fiver. But then I look at it longer and I notice the sweep of its movement, I get to gaze into the intricate majesty of it through the open caseback, and I get to appreciate all the nerdy fan-nods to a movie from my favourite film director, and by then I’m looking at my phone to check what time it is because I’ve almost forgotten that it’s something my watch does in the first place.

If you want a tasty Islay dram there are plenty of options at likely half the price, or even less, but for me, having this growing collection, tracing now a lineage of these special releases, and in my own way, taking myself to the Sound of Islay, celebrating in spirit the clink of a glencairn, is just about worth a last-minute shiv from the tax-man.

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

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