Indie Peated Bunnahabhain head-to-head | 56% & 57.1% ABV

Giving an Inch, Taking a Mile

That friend in primary/elementary school who proposes a trade during lunchtime and gives you his spinach after you fork over a big juicy meatball.

That friend in high school who you loan a tenner to for him to pick up a six-pack for you, him, and the buddies and he shows up already having downed two (you’re still on my shit list, Josh).

That friend from work with whom you have the occasional pint and he never seems to get the first one – and only ever has the one.

We sometimes have this frustrating dynamic with our favourite distilleries.

And if you’re reading this – a website dedicated to long-form writing about whisky – you more than likely have one or a couple of distilleries with which you feel like you are best friends. The distillery that knows what you like, that is often wonderfully fun, but that can also challenge you, in a good way. A distillery that you can trust to deliver. A distillery that you know to be, more often than not, fair.

Yet they can, and frustratingly sometimes do, take a mile. The distillery who rebrands just as you’re really developing a deep appreciation for them. The distillery that inexplicably and supremely cynically doubles the price of your favourite malt overnight. The distillery that compels an eye roll over their dull new label when the previous one was pleasantly old-timey yet warm and welcoming.

I’ve written before about how much I love Bunnahabhain. I fell in love with the standard 12 year old early on in my journey and was the first bottle I bought a second of. Fast forward to now when the Bunna shelves in the whisky bunker here at Fort Drummond creak and groan with both official bottlings as well as a variety of independents. Like Earie with Ardmore, like Dougie with Ardna, myself, Ogilvie and Calder all have a soft spot for Bunnahabhain. Evidently you do, too, judging by its lofty #2 spot in the current Dramface Top 40.

My partner and I took a trip to Islay last year and the warehouse tasting at the distillery further solidified the love. It’s one of my top distilleries that I drink most regularly. It’s one that I definitely spend too much money on. It’s one I can explore extensively through both official bottlings as well as a myriad of indies (as I am today).

I also make excuses for them more often than I should. I excuse the pricey 18 year old, currently £120, and at some places currently reaching £130. I excused £85 for last year’s 12 year old cask strength. And I excuse the couple of Fèis Ìle bottles that I’ve purchased – all absurdly overpriced. I rationalise ‘til my head spins, and then I turn right around and judge others for buying the Diageo Special Releases or Ardbeg special releases or other bottles, those I wouldn’t get caught dead paying retail for. I know that I don’t have a leg to stand on. I have no excuses.

Yet, it’s becoming harder to make excuses for Bunnahabhain. For the last three years I’ve waited like a giddy school boy for the 12 year old cask strength releases. I’ve loved each of them. They’ve each been nearly my favourite drams each year. The 2023 cask strength had crept up in price over the previous year’s, but I forgave it since it was only about a £5 increase. And because it was absolutely delicious. It was expensive indeed for a 12 year old, but still within the range of affordability, albeit starting to push it.

And so you could imagine my disappointment and frustration when I learned that this year there would be no 2024 12 year old cask strength. Instead, Bunnahabhain and CVH Spirits have released a 21 year old cask strength. For £275. That’s right, 2-7-5.

I have not bought it.

Now we could rationalise this – together, you and I – to get me to a place where I could consider buying it. You might say, “but Drummond, if any other Islay distillery released a 21 year old cask strength, it would be twice as much!” You’d be absolutely right. If Kilchoman (a fantastic distillery I also love) is charging £200 for their 16 year old, Lord knows what they’d ask for a 21 year old cask strength if they had the stock. If any of the Islay south coast Big 3 released this, it would surely be much more. So, we should see this Bunna bottling as a relative bargain, right?

No, my friend, you would be wrong. Similar bottlings from elsewhere on Islay are, to put it mildly, certifiably insane. £1100 for a 25 year old Ardbeg at 46%. Laphroaig 25 year old cask strength for £420. Not quite like for like, of course, but close enough to make a general-enough comparison. The problem is that these prices are already ridiculous, and therefore do not form a reasonable baseline. A £420 Laphroaig does not make a £275 Bunna a bargain.

A more reasonable comparison is with the core range 18 year old, 46.3% for £120. For three more years in the cask and 7.3% more ABV, we get a 129% price increase.

I don’t fault folks who are buying this. I really don’t. Bunna fans are nothing if not devoted. If I could afford it, I would buy it. I don’t fault businesses for wanting to make money, either. And, I get that it’s a limited edition with rarer aged stock. I do. But even if I could afford it, at £275 the whisky needs to do a lot. Like, fireworks. Or depths of flavour and experience so deep that I fall in and need a rope to climb out. I have no doubt it’s good, but I simply question whether it’s £275 good.

There comes a point when a relationship starts to sour. There comes a point where the excuses start to sputter. Instead of offering another somewhat affordable 12 year old, they offer this 21 year old for this price. I understand the desire to want to change things up, fair enough. Yet a 129% price increase for a relatively modest increase in specs means I won’t be buying it (at current retail, at least).

It also sends a message. It feels like the very enthusiastic and vibrant Bunna fan community is being taken advantage of. Bunna special releases have always been on the pricey side. But things have been getting worse recently. The Fèis Ìle bottlings are an indicator, and while this isn’t a festival bottling, it’s in line with those trends. It’s starting to feel like, with some releases, Bunnahabhain is toying with going the way of Ardbeg and Lagavulin. Which for many of us would be an utter shame and truly heartbreaking. And to boot, with the quality of recent batches of the standard 46% 12 year old slipping lately, that lovin’ feeling is in danger of getting lost.

I’ve wondered how this is selling, as I’ve already seen this significantly discounted at one well-known UK retailer (but still not enough for me to buy). This isn’t a good look, Bunnahabhain.

And many more moves like this will make it much harder to support you going forward. But move forward we will, as we always do.

And anyway, until we cross that malty Rubicon, we still have the indies….

Review 1/3

Bunnahabhain Staoisha, 8 year old, Fife Whisky Festival 2023, 111 Bottles, 56% ABV
£65 paid

I have two bottles here today that, while not identical, I thought were similar enough to merit a joint review. The first one, the 2023 Fife Whisky Festival bottle, has been sitting on my shelf for over a year. It was a punt: a mate and I had tickets and in the run-up to the festival they advertised this for about £65. At that point never having had a Woodrow’s of Edinburgh bottling, but loving most of the other Staoisha releases I’d tried, I went for it.

Our first dram of the festival was this one, with someone with a tray of drams of it appeared suddenly in front of us upon our first few steps into the main festival room. We both happily picked up a glass off the tray in unison, raised and sipped it in unison and looked up at each other and grinned - in unison. Tasty indeed, it was. I was instantly happy I’d picked up the bottle.

I’m just now opening it not because of lack of interest, but simply because the current bottle queue is as it is. I tend to drink slowly, and it takes me ages to empty a bottle, even if I’m thoroughly enjoying it.

The Signatory bottle – part of the best-value series in whisky right now, the 100 Proof series – was also a punt. But, as I’ve had quite a few Signatory bottles from their various lines and have never really been disappointed, I again went for it. And for £46, the value proposition seemed too good to pass up.

These two are quite similar in profile: both the same spirit (peated Bunna, or Staoisha, as it’s often labelled with this trade name through independent bottlers), both fully matured or finished in oloroso sherry, both cask strength (one a single cask, the other a small batch), similar ages (one 8 years old, one 10 years old), and both at a similar ABV (56.0% versus 57.1%). Let’s put them side-by-side, shall we?

As an added bonus, we have Ainsley also sharing his thoughts on the Signatory 100º.

Score: 6/10

**Good stuff.**
***TL;DR***
*Perfectly fine, if a bit over-casked*

Nose

Red berries, acetone, and gently smouldering peat. Light raisins and cinnamon. A hint of chocolate dusting. A muted nose, considering the specs.

Palate

Sweet sherry cinnamon fruits – booze-soaked raisins and dates – alongside a tinge of ashy peat. More spices (nutmeg, and . . . salt?) and boozy cherries. The peat comes across a bit more prominently on the palate than the nose, yet it’s still not a co-equal player: it feels like it’s trying to push through the cask influence to have a say.

The Dregs

It’s a pleasant Staoisha, but far from the best Staoisha I’ve had. I’m happy to sit with it while watching TV, but it’s not something that’s grabbing me and drawing my attention too much. Which is fine, not every whisky needs to.

What drawbacks there are here stem mostly from the fact that there’s too much cask influence here, and it’s overpowering the smoky Bunna spirit. Peated Bunna is quite a hefty spirit actually, and so that gives you an idea of how heavy the cask is here. The label tells us that this was matured in a “refill barrel and finished in a 1st fill oloroso sherry quarter cask.” It doesn’t tell us how long the finish was, but with a quarter cask (of only 111 bottles) and the accelerated maturation that that smaller cask brings, it feels like things are a bit over-cooked here. I like a sherry cask, but I want it to work together with the spirit that I’m looking for as well.

When I tried this at the Fife festival I remember liking it a lot. Maybe it was the excitement of a festival day. As I’ve spent time with it now over the past month, my view of it has muted a bit. Good stuff but not great; delicious peated Bunna but a bit too drenched in sherry. I’m wavering between a 5/10 and 6/10 here – but as I sip it alongside a couple of others that are 5/10s for me, 6/10 it is. But only just.

This also has the disadvantage of being reviewed alongside the Signatory bottle . . .

Score: 6/10

Review 2/3

Bunnahabhain Staoisha, Signatory Vintage 100º Proof Series, 10 year old, 2024 release, 57.1% ABV
£46 paid

Score: 7/10

**Very good indeed.**
***TL;DR***
*Fantastic balance despite the cask*

Nose

A distinct and powerful nose compared to the Woodrow’s: drying, ashy peat smoke wrapped in lightly sweet sherry goodness. Sweet spices. Dry creaminess, if that’s a thing. The peat somehow comes across as a diversity of types: ashy, smouldering, vegetal, with a flicker of campfire.

Palate

Ashy peat, sweet and salty, spicey, and a waft of coastal quality. Vibrant and alive! Creamy, oak, very dried fruit, campfire ash drizzled with diluted red berry syrup. Drying on the finish, one of the driest Staoishas I’ve ever had. The sherry is sweet and drying when paired with the peaty spirit, rather than “juicy” as you might expect from 1st fill oloroso. The label tells us that this batch is made up of an undisclosed number of “1st fill oloroso sherry butts,” but it feels like a few second fill casks thrown into the mix, given the excellent balance here. Delicious, powerful, vibrant, and interesting.

The Dregs

Despite the similar specs, the contrast here is significant. Whereas the Woodrow’s is a juicy sherry with some Bunna spirit as a side and the peat getting drowned out by the sherry, the Signatory is a fantastic balance all the way. The spirit and cask in the Signatory dance together as one. And the Signatory is just much more alive than the Woodrow’s: the Woodrow’s is good but feels a bit lower key when sipped after the Signatory, despite being two years younger.

The Signatory is bursting with vibrancy and flavour, making the experience stand out that much more. What can we chalk this up to? The difference in cask make-up most likely: a single oloroso quarter cask versus a vatting of 1st fill oloroso butts. These two bottles are a great example of why single casks aren’t always better. Those oloroso butts will have been similar to each other of course, but each will have presumably had their subtle differences from the others, which when vatted together will have rounded out the rougher edges of some, lifted up the subtleties of others, and added complexities that each on their own might not have offered. With one cask, you just get the one cask – which may be outstanding, but not all of them are.

An easy 7/10, and a high 7 at that. This Signatory is simply one of the best peated Bunnas I’ve ever had. At 10 years old it strikes a lovely balance between a bit of maturation and some subtleties starting to develop, but also with the power and vivaciousness that I love about younger whiskies. If you’re a peated Bunna fan, you will likely enjoy this. And for £46, it’s one of the best value Bunnas out there right now.

If you’re drinking the official 21 year old cask strength, more power to you. Perhaps you could send me a dram? But, if you haven’t bought the 21 and if you’re looking for value – for a 10 year old cask strength Islay malt for £46 – pour a dram of this Signatory along with me and let’s celebrate what the (well, some) indies do for us.

Let’s continue to celebrate Signatory. With the 100 Proof Series and the Small Batch Series they are rightly calling out and making a mockery of all of the over-priced ocean of plain-vanilla whiskies that are out there right now – both official and indie alike. For the enthusiasts, the drinkers, it is no less than stunning what they are doing. We’re going to look back at these releases and wonder why we didn’t buy more of them at the time. I’m reminded that even while more and more official bottlings of my beloved Bunna gradually drift out of my orbit, there is still plenty around from the indies. Long may it last.

Review 3/3

Bunnahabhain Staoisha, Signatory Vintage 100º Proof Series, 10 year old, 2024 release, 57.1% ABV
€52 paid

Thanks to Drummond for allowing me to write my notes here. I bought this Bunna as soon as it hit my shores. Immediately after this value oriented 100º Proof range was announced by Signatory, I started looking for bottles. Thankfully, they quickly crossed the channel.

Regardless of how this particular whisky performs, let’s applaud Signatory for catering to us enthusiasts while they could just release each of the butts composing this batch separately in their cask strength range and make much more money this way.

Score: 6/10

**Good stuff.**
***TL;DR***
*Has its faults, but I’m willing to forgive it*

Nose

Powerful. Tar, iodine, big hit of peat. Smouldering heather, dying fire by the seaside. struck match. Potting soil. Smoked lemons and cooked salmon. Broth and braised chicken.

With water: Still this sulphury lick to it, on top of smoked tea and black pepper.

Palate

Oily, earthy arrival. Hint of sweetness from the sherry, but with a drying peaty finish. Big smoke. Dark chocolate. Black pepper.

With water: Sweeter, on dark chocolate, coffee cream, and smoked tea in the finish. Slightly less peaty. Sizzling bacon. Not a massive length but pleasant.

The Dregs

This is a big peaty whack, in-your-face type of whisky. The sherry is there but really lets the distillate shine through. And that’s actually quite good in this case, as I fear that one or more of the sherry casks here was tainted by sulphur. The vatting of this cask with cleaner ones may have helped masking it a little bit, and that’s maybe why it was released in this range and not as a higher end bottling. To be clear, this is enjoyable whisky, and great value, and the sulphur is just a hint of struck match, not a massive bag of rotten eggs and cooked cabbage. Adding water improves the palate slightly, but also makes the sulphur slightly more noticeable on the nose, so I’d advise to be careful when playing with H2O.

As such, even if it’s not the cleanest sherry, I’m willing to warrant this honest malt a deserved 6/10, as it still hits you with bags of flavour, for a very affordable price. To anyone at Signatory who may be reading this, thank you for still thinking about your core fanbase. This is the type of thinking that’s going to get you through the troubled times ahead.

Score: 6/10

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

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