Caol Ila Cask Strength
Official Release 2009 | 61.3% ABV
I’m told it’s hard to mess up Caol Ila
Recently, my children had some friends over, and I got chatting to one of the dads about whisky. It was a Saturday night, and he’d come to pick his daughter up, and when he saw my whisky collection, he remarked on how many bottles I had.
Relative to the average Dramface reader, my collection is probably fairly typical, and what he saw on display in my dining room is actually only a fraction of the whisky that I have. Still, to somebody who’s never been down the whisky rabbit hole, anything more than a handful of bottles no doubt seems excessive. Needless to say, I took the opportunity to ask him if he fancied a dram. He wasn’t driving, so he said yes.
The whisky that I poured for him was Glencadam 10. My thinking was that it would be a good choice to pour for somebody who didn’t usually drink whisky, largely because of its fruit-forward style. As we sat and drank together, it started to become apparent that he did drink whisky though, and whilst he didn’t have a collection, he always had a couple of bottles in the house. When I asked him what sort of whisky he usually drank, he told me that he enjoyed peated whisky, specifically Laphroaig. He was even a Friends of Laphroaig member. A few years ago, he’d even gone as far as to take a trip to Islay to tour the distillery.
As I’m sure you can imagine, this was music to my ears. Although I do have a handful of whisky friends, the majority of the people that I hang around with tend to be fairly indifferent when it comes to single malts. I’ve tried to get my mates into whisky, but alas, so far, my failures dwarf my successes.
Whisky is an acquired taste, after all, and there are a lot of barriers to entry; the cost of a bottle, knowing which whisky to buy, getting past that initial alcohol burn. Unless you find an eager, open-minded sort, or someone with a passing interest to begin with, it can be difficult to get somebody really into whisky just by plying them with a few carefully chosen drams.
Having somebody in the house then - somebody who already enjoyed whisky - presented me with an opportunity that I wasn’t about to pass up. After checking to make sure that my daughter and her friends were happy to play for a bit longer, I opened the cupboard and started pulling out bottles.
I don’t actually drink that much peated whisky, but I have enough in the collection that if somebody comes round who likes that style of single malt, I can always find something decent to pour for them. Within minutes, I was lining up the Glencairns.
After the initial Glencadam, the whiskies I poured that evening were Laphroaig 16, Kilchoman Sanaig and a cask strength OB Caol Ila that I’ve had on the shelf for several years. He enjoyed all three of them, but it was the Caol Ila that really did it for him. At 61.3%, it was the last whisky of the night. As soon as he tasted it, he asked me where he could find a bottle.
The answer, unfortunately, was ‘you can’t.’ This particular expression was bottled back in 2009 and has long been discontinued. Still, after pouring him a sample to take home, I told him that if he went online and Googled ‘cask strength Caol Ila,’ he’d probably find something similar.
Ordinarily, I’d be reluctant to recommend that somebody just buy a random bottle of whisky, especially one from an indy bottler, but in the case of Caol Ila, I felt fairly comfortable just telling him to take a punt. If there’s one distillery that’s dependable, readily available and generally affordable, it has to be the workhorse of Islay. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that Caol Ila is so reliable, so consistent and so abundant that, as enthusiasts, we sometimes take it for granted. I know I do.
Which brings me back to the title of this review; it’s difficult to mess up Caol Ila. It’s an old adage in whisky circles that I’ve heard for years now and, in my experience, it generally rings true. Over the last decade, I’ve probably bought more whiskies from Caol Ila than I have from any other distillery and I’ve yet to taste anything from them that isn’t pretty solid at the very least.
It doesn’t matter how old it is, who it’s bottled by, or even what sort of cask it’s been in, Caol Ila always seems to be a strong proposition. It’s one of the few whiskies that I’ll happily buy from an indy bottler, without reading a single review.
The Caol Ila that I’m reviewing here isn’t from an indy bottler, but it definitely plays like one. As I’ve already mentioned, it comes in at a whopping 61.3% ABV, which is something of a departure from anything in the core range. It’s NAS and, being from a Diageo distillery, there’s no mention of natural colour anywhere on the bottle, although judging by how pale it is, I’d be surprised if it did contain any E150a spirit caramel colourant.
Regardless, it’s an absolute belter. In fact, this is the third bottle I’ve bought. Which I hope says a lot.
Review
Caol Ila Natural Cask Strength, Official Bottling, 2009 release, 61.3% ABV
£70 paid, available at auction only
Nose
The nose is punchy, young and boisterous. I get Grays Herbal Tablets, some new leather, some icing sugar and a mossy, tree bark sort of note. There’s some coastal salinity here as well, along with some icing sugar and a little apple cider. As is usually the case with Caol Ila, I also get fresh lemon, as well as a splash of crisp, white wine. There’s also a farmyard note here.
Not a particularly complex nose, but it’s classic Caol Ila and it makes you want to dive in.
Palate
The first thing that hits me on the palate - apart from the ABV - is the smoke. This is young whisky, and as such, the smoke is upfront and intense. It’s not ashy, like some Caol Ilas; rather, it’s the smoke of green branches, with their leaves still on them, being thrown by the handful onto a campfire. If you enjoy young, spirit-forward, peated whisky, this one will be right up your alley.
Spending a bit of time with it - and adding a splash of water - reveals a bit more complexity. There’s a big hit of lemon here, as well as some salt. I also get bacon, and smoked meats generally. There’s some sweet black tea, some icing sugar, some liquorice root and a little tobacco. It’s not the sort of tobacco note that you find in older whisky though; rather it’s fresh, just opened rolling tobacco. There’s also a tart note in the development, like sloes. Late into the finish I get some bitter tannins.
This is not complex whisky. It’s not an easy sipper, either. This is a big, bold, young, rambunctious Islay malt that jumps out of the glass and smacks you with a big wave of fresh, lemony, coastal salinity. But it’s classic Islay, and it’s classic Caol Ila. I’ve tried a lot of really good Caol Ilas over the years, and this one has to be up there with the best of them.
The Dregs
I’m conscious that it can be frustrating, reading about a whisky that’s unobtainable, particularly when the person who’s reviewing it gives it a glowing review. However, as I’ve already touched upon, Caol Ila is readily available among the indy bottlers, and there’s a fair chance that if you do decide to take a punt on something similar, you’ll end up with a decent cask strength whisky.
Ironically, it says on the label of this bottle that Caol Ila is a ‘secret malt’ that is ‘not an easy find.’ Perhaps it’s not, if you live in the Tora Bora mountains of Afghanistan, but I’m fairly confident that most Dramface readers won’t have too much difficulty sourcing some, especially those of us in Europe.
As I write this, Master of Malt has thirty-five independently bottled expressions of Caol Ila in stock, and that figure doesn’t include Port Askaig, which is generally thought to be Caol Ila, especially these days. Twenty-five of those indy Caol Ilas come in at 50% ABV or above. If you do your homework, there’s a decent chance that you’ll find something that can go toe-to-toe with the one that I’m reviewing here.
As to this particular expression, if you are interested in tracking down a bottle, then the barcode is 5000281026527. How much you should pay for it isn’t for me to say, as budget is of course subjective, especially when it comes to discontinued whiskies, but what I would say is that it’s young - probably not much older than 5 years - and there’s no shortage of alternatives. Keep that in mind if you do manage to track down a bottle. For what it’s worth, I paid £70, and I feel that it was money well spent.
As to Caol Ila more generally, as long as the indy bottlers keep putting it out there at a decent price, then I’ll always have some on the shelf. In fact, having finished the bottle I’m reviewing here, I’ve already ordered some more.
The bottle I ordered this time is from Signatory, and I haven’t tasted a sample but, as I hope you’ve picked up by now, I’m fairly confident that I’ll end up with something decent.
Score: 8/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. FMc