Loch Lomond Inchmurrin 12yo SMWS 112.86
“A Soothing Bubble Bath” | 58.7% ABV
Score: 5/10
Average.
TL;DR
Like someone swapped my Dewars out with a Mott’s
Who put apple juice in my apple juice?
Whisky is often a reprieve. Outside of the times when we gather with a bottle of malt to enjoy each other’s company in happy gatherings, whisky is enjoyed by me, many of my mates, and countless other whisky aficionados worldwide, to soothe after a hard day or week of work. In this way, it serves as a salve.
After a particularly trying day of work, for example, having that comfort is a blessing. On this day, as I have reached for a soothing dram after a taxing day at the office, I think of my father and my first introduction to scotch whisky.
He was a dentist and his office was attached to our house. With no commute, he couldn’t very well decompress on a ride home after work as many of us might. No one could tell my father not to bring work home with him. He was, in fact, already at home. His office was downstairs, round the corner, and through a door to the right. I imagine the blessing of convenience this location offered was oftentimes something of a curse.
If you walked downstairs, before going through the door on the right, you would find yourself in our family room. And, at the near end of this family room, there was a bar, behind which were a few bottles of wine, and some other items.
On top of the bar was a large bottle of what I recall as interchangeable expressions of either Dewars or Johnnie Walker. Over time, bottles would come and go, but those were the two brand labels I recall seeing on that corner of the bar.
Going back to when I was roughly six years old, when I started elementary school, I found myself wanting to do everything that my father did, and always wanted to help him. At that time, perhaps more than any other span of time, my father regretted having his office attached to the house as I was often underfoot after his work day concluded. I would go into his office to be near him and see what I could do with him or for him. As an inquisitive type, I would often see my father with a small glass of golden liquid in a juice glass that he would sip. Aside from a wine glass, there was no stemmed glassware in Ogilvie’s house of youth, and certainly no Glencairns.
Whenever I would ask, “What’s that, Dad?”, it was met with the answer: “Apple juice”.
As a young lad, I believed him. It looked like apple juice. It was in a juice glass. He seemed to enjoy it. I also liked apple juice. So, it made sense. It was a well known fact that after a tough day, my father had a glass of “apple juice”.
One particular day, as I was six years old, I made my way into his office shortly after his work day concluded at 5:00pm. In retrospect, I am sure that particular day was a bit trying as my father was, as I recall, a bit short and terse with answers to the undoubtedly incessant questions. But, even the wee Ogilvie knew that his father needed some happiness.
“Dad?”
“Yes…?” My father snapped a bit.
“Can I do something to help?” With that question, I remember my father pausing, and then turning to me and he said, “Yes. I would appreciate a small glass of apple juice.”
I remember smiling and bounding out of the office, gleefully knowing I was going to be of help to my father. I trotted happily out of the office, passed the bar, down the hall, round the corner, up the stairs, into the kitchen, and retrieved the bottle of Mott’s apple juice from the refrigerator. I climbed on a chair to get a small glass that looked like the type my father would sip from. I scampered down, carefully poured a small amount of apple juice in the glass. Put the bottle back in the refrigerator, and then I happily and carefully walked downstairs and back to the office.
I found my father. He was deep in concentration with ledgers in front of him and the office checkbook. I now recognize he was deeply involved in balancing books and doing payroll. I stood there for what, to a six year old, seemed to be quite a long time, and suddenly my father realised that I had returned. He gave a quick acknowledgment of thanks to the wee one handing him his beverage of choice. And, as he was still studying the balance sheets in front of him, he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip.
I noticed my father stammer a bit, shocked by something. Six year old Ogilvie knew not what it could have been, and I was still standing there beaming to have been able to help my Dad. My father, after recovering from the shock of his apple juice - not his “apple juice” - lowered his head. To his credit, when he looked up, he was smiling and actually chuckling a bit.
“Thank you for the apple juice, Ogilvie.”
I beamed, and trotted off not knowing or appreciating that my father was having a very good, but unexpected laugh. He had expected his salve, and what he sampled was nothing of the sort. He later sat me down and explained the difference between his ‘apple juice’ and apple juice, and the episode of my assistance has been a bit of humorous lore ever since.
And I think about that memory – literally fifty years ago – as I sip my salve that is being reviewed here.
Review
Loch Lomond Inchmurrin, SMWS 112.86, Partner Bar Exclusive cask 2020 release, 217 bottles, “A Soothing Bubble Bath”, 58.7% ABV
£50 paid at auction
I had had a long day at work, and returned home just wanting to sip something comforting; something that would put wind back in my sails. A little ‘apple juice’ would certainly hit the spot.
I opened my whisky cabinet and selected this bottle to pour. A Loch Lomond SMWS offering, it appeared to be exactly what the doctor ordered. I had actually purchased it for just such a moment. This was an auction find, and I had opened it several weeks back. When I had uncorked the bottle, I let it breathe for roughly ten minutes – all the while tingling with anticipation. The nose was promising, but a bit sharp. I brought the glass to my lips, and…well, I was underwhelmed.
The finish was a bit fizzy and overly spicy. Saying it was sharp was an understatement. It clearly needed time to open up. With that, I returned it to the cabinet hoping some opening-up magic would come to the bottle. Aside from Mrs. Shaw taking a dram roughly two weeks ago, this bottle sat open and on the shelf for roughly a month, looking for the day the Loch Lomond wonderment would be unleashed.
And so, I returned to the bottle this day searching for a Loch Lomond salve.
Score: 5/10
Average.
TL;DR
Like someone swapped my Dewars out with a Mott’s
Nose
Butter and honey. Floral and hay lofts. Caramel apples. Some ginger spice, and a bit of lemon pith. Everything is present but tame. Nothing jumps out and asserts itself. This nose is quiet, calm, and inviting.
Palate
And then, the palate… Oh dear. Good golly, Ms. Molly! Ginger. Ginger tinge. Ginger bite. That ginger dog has latched onto my pant leg and will not let go. I enjoy ginger spice in my whisky, but when ginger crosses into HazMat territory it’s a problem. OK, HazMat may be a bit of hyperbole, but I trust you get the sensation.
After the initial sip and going back to the glass, I fight to see what is behind the ginger drapes: demerara sugar, Honey Nut Cheerios, peach and vanilla can be found. All the while the ginger is pulling me back. The background flavours are nice, but it’s a struggle to get to them. The ginger and spiced tinges and bites are no joke. The ginger spice borders on harsh, is in my face, and continues from start to finish.
With a good dose of water, there is a taming of the ginger to a dull roar. I suppose it’s not quite a roar, but it still is prominently there – especially in the finish. The water does allow the fruits and malt and honey at the first part of the palate to come out and play knowing that the ginger dog has been put on its leash. Much better. Grassy and floral. Apricots dusted in powdered sugar. Fruit tarts or apricot rugelach. The effervescence I often get with some Loch Lomonds is here. A lemon essence combines with the ginger at the finish. That lemon essence, the more I consider it, is not unlike lemon meringue.
But that ginger is still omnipresent, even if the barking is not as concerning with the dog now on a firm leash. And while some of the Loch Lomond style comes forward with a good dose of water, the water does make things a bit flat.
The Dregs
My tasting notes were not simply taken from that evening after the wearing day of work. I have returned to his expression a number of times over the past week and more. The tasting notes have been consistent. I have made my way through half of the bottle seeing if the Loch Lomond I know and love would shine through. There are hints of that lovely Lomond profile, but does it shine through? Sadly, no.
I say sadly as there were some expectations with this bottle. It is a Loch Lomond distilled liquid. I bought it specifically because it’s Loch Lomond distilled liquid. During those times when we whisky aficionados reach for something as a salve – as something akin to looking for your comfiest sweatshirt in which to relax – we often reach for a known favourite. We instinctively reach for our known security blankets, something from our trusted distilleries.
Loch Lomond is one of those distilleries on a short list for me. My first experience with the distillery was the old red label of their ubiquitous Loch Lomond 12. I was, and continue to be, surprised by the depth of flavours of that budget bottle. The 18 year old is lovely with its richness, fruit, spot of smoke, and buttered pastries. The aqua-green labelled Inchmurrin 12 was a surprise of rich fruits, honey, citrus, a touch of effervescence, and floral hints. I often also get a hit of Juicy Fruit gum when sampling Loch Lomonds – crazy but so friggin’ good in a glass. That Inchmurrin 12 is one of my favourites. And, after a few remarkable Loch Lomond IBs, it is more than fair to say I am a Loch Lomond fanboy.
In February, when I snagged this bottle at auction, it seemed to be a no-brainer. During my initial scan of the bottles being auctioned, as a Lomond fan, I recognised the SMWS code for Loch Lomond (Inchmurrin). The lighter purple colour code of “sweet, fruity, and mellow” only solidified my fixed gaze. A quick scan on the SMWS website, and I noted that this bottle was aged in a second fill ex-bourbon barrel, and this 2020 release – one of 217 in the outturn – is presently out of stock.
The write up from SMWS drew me in like a moth to flame: “Demerara coffee grinds, Wagon Wheels, honeysuckle and oak” on the palate with a finish of spicy tingles of ginger and chilli”.
“Spicy tingles of ginger”, my foot! But I digress…
I know not every bottle can be a winner, and not every release will tick all of the boxes all of the time. But…really? My would-be comfy sweatshirt turned out to be a polyester t-shirt a size too small. Without water, I would grade this bottle a 4/10, but with water it now has “flashes of promise”, and rises to a low 5/10. Maybe someone would like this bottle, but for someone who is familiar with Loch Lomond and its generally fruity and rich flavour profile, this is a let down.
I was hoping – and, frankly, expecting – that my SMWS Loch Lomond Inchmurrin would provide me that reprieve where I could take a sip, close my eyes, lose track of time, and appreciate the Lomond style of creamy cereal, fruit, malt, and a nice bit of effervescence. On a bad day, just as my father did, I was looking to appreciate some good apple juice.
I have gone through half of the bottle, looking for that Lomond goodness. Methinks I’ll go find another comfy sweatshirt.
Nonetheless, while I search for more (and hopefully better) Loch Lomond goodness, I am reminded to take all things in stride, as my father did five decades ago when his Dewars was swapped out for Mott’s.
As I reach for an alternative comforting dram, I still wonder about this expression. It’s all good, and other sweatshirts abound.
Score: 5/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. OS
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