A Tale of Two Bottles | 59.7% ABV

Score: 7/10

**Very Good Indeed.**
***TL;DR***
*Identical on paper. Worlds apart in glass. All great whisky.*

Surprise Found in Whisky Cupboard Shocker. Read on.

Moving to the Isle of the Mist was the best decision we’ve made in our lives so far, and we can see it clearly now as we approach the second summer. Living here is amazing, for us.

Aye, granted the summer brings with it questionable weather, tourists in their hundreds of thousands, and midges. There’s also the constant, sheepish, socially incendiary request of whether or not a shop offers local prices (“cheapskate!”), and not being able to go anywhere during peak season because the aforementioned tourism influx adds 45 minutes onto any journey. But apart from that, it’s magic.

I can’t complain at all about tourists. They bring vital support for the local economies, keeping islanders in jobs and heating bills almost covered. They also bring support to local residents who have seized the opportunity for the necessity to house these braying hordes in glamping pods or BnB’s.

Or, in our case, a garage conversion.

Yep, we are currently in the midst of converting what was a mechanic’s home garage workshop into a beautifully cosy and remote little self-accom, for those looking to be central to Portree but off the beaten track, where campervans pull weird manoeuvres diving into parking places, and folk hang out sunroofs to get a blurry picture of the Quiraing.

It’s a lucrative endeavour it seems, going by what the local rates are for two-night overlays and week-long stays. But getting to the point where we can justify (to ourselves) charging those prices demands a fit-out in the garage that meets that expectation. Mrs Crystal is wild with excitement. That said, some also charge exuberant prices for what ultimately falls under the bracket of an insulated garden shed, so maybe we don’t need to be too luxe.

Anyway, I tell you all that, to tell you this: I’ve no spare money for as much whisky as I used to buy every month, and thus be able to review. I’ve managed to sneak a few bottles in under the theory of maintaining some connection to the world I love, but it’s touch and go, case by case.

That £70 bottle of Ardnamurchan Mezcal, that I would’ve snapped up before without even flinching, even if it might not align fully with what I normally love with Ardnamurchan whisky, is a real chin stroker at the minute. £70 will pay for that expertly plated black mixer tap or some of the custom paint or half of a sink, all of which Mrs Crystal has energetically submitted to the committee as essential to success. Who am I to argue?

I’ve been quiet in whisky anyway, because of work and its missing wheels (now hopefully found again), but even more so because we’ve commenced construction, so it’s just going to have to be the odd bottle pickup here and there. I still have unopened whisky in the stash that I am planning on reviewing, but in terms of zeitgeist and keeping up with the razor’s edge whisky chat, I’ve fallen off the ship and can do nothing but watch it disappear into the sunset.

Last month was the Fife Whisky Festival and I picked up the stoatin’ Lindores Aussie Joymachine, and also this wee curiosity - a Finglassie (Inchdairnie) 6yo Official Festival Bottling from indies Lady of the Glen.

Having not caved to the lofty demand of the Inchdairnie inaugural sword of opportunism, I was curious as to what peated Inchdairnie might smell and taste like. I prepared my action plan (and excuses) and bought one of those to take home too.

Review 1 of 2

Finglassie (Inchdairnie), Bourbon Hogshead, 59.7% ABV
£70 Still Available through Fife Whisky Festival Website

Lowland 6yo 1st Fill Bourbon matured peated whisky from a place priding itself on the exploration of whisky through unorthodox grains, rather than the tried and tested path of malt, Inchdairnie are yet to release single malt whisky under their own label - 2029 is the year. It’s through indies that we can find their currently maturing malt spirits, from the likes of James Eadie, Cooper’s Choice and now Lady of the Glen.

This bottle has sat in the cupboard since returning from Fife because I was into the Lindores straight away, and then the wheels disappeared again from the work bus, so attention deviated. However, it was whilst it was sitting that I realised something quite cool.

I have an unopened bottle of the Thompson Bro’s Connal Mackenzie sitting right beside the Finglassie - the one where Connal is depicted as the Adelphi Dancing Man. I thought, that’s cool, it’s peated Ardnamurchan and, if I remember correctly, also 6 years old. That would be an interesting wee mashup - two 6yo peated whiskies side-by-side.

Then I noticed the 59.7% ABV was identical on both! If ever there was a comparison to be made it’s from two whiskies made in two very different distilleries - one in the leafy grasslands of Fife, and the other on the rugged coastal shoreline of the Western Highlands. What would the impact of maturation, peating levels and the relative youthfulness of 6 years maturation do to each spirit? Would the deeply entrenched throne of Ardnamurchan be vacated, on account of a new player in town?

Only one way to find out.

Score: 6/10

**Good Stuff.**
***TL;DR***
*Big, creamy and enveloping, but feels one dimensional*

Nose

Crème fraîche. Swimming Pools. Fresh Cream. Citrus/Lime. Key Lime Pie! Digestives. Smoke fades quickly. Minty. Tropical fruits appear. Sweet icing sugar - dusty. Creamy oakiness.

Water tamps down the heat but removes some of that visceral punch.

Palate

Earthy, punchy, creamy. Ash/embers of fire pit. Smoke. Lemon drops. Strepsils. Salty/saline. Concentrated cherry menthol. Pepper. Creamy toasted oak. Touch of cola. Basil?!

Viscous, sticky, mouth coating.

Water again reduces the powerful effect of full speed whisky excitement.

The Dregs

Finglassie is all at once a wave of noise and flavour. It’s massively smoky on the nose and the palate - creamy, thick, mouth filling and earthy. This is not the medicinal TCP peat of Islay, but a softer, earthier, autumnal leaf decomposing peat. Branches getting thrown in the burn barrel sort of smoke. Salty, even, salty vanilla. It does have that really sweet-yet-savoury thing happening that comes with young peated whisky - the bright tropical nature of new-make fighting to win over the peat monster.

I don’t gravitate to peat on a normal whisky day, and I don’t enjoy peated whisky the same way I enjoy the thrill of fireworks in a sherry matured highlander, but I am really enjoying the salty mango of this Finglassie. It strikes me that this sort of whisky isn’t really that unique, when I think about the younger peated whiskies that we’ve all been buying these past few years.

They all sort of shuffle about the same realms of flavour - tropically smoky. It feels…not generic, but also not something I’ve never experienced before. It reminds me of the Ardnahoe, or the Lagavulin 8yo, or a Caol Ila from Cadenhead’s (all Islay, but not medicinal peat). I like it, and I’ll continue to like it but I’ll never love it in the way I love other things.

To check how it felt compared to my brain archive, I opened a new bottle of Lagavulin 8yo I’ve had sitting since 2022, that I got from Tesco for £38, and alongside that I poured the Caol Ila Cadenhead’s as well. The Finglassie resolves itself as a more creamy version of the two Islay staples, a bit more buttery perhaps. Certainly a wee bit less ashy, less savoury. Of the three I lean to the Finglassie because it’s offering more tropical sweetness amidst the fire. For £70 it is expensive, but it’s also cask strength whisky from a unique distillery, so probably in-line with what’s to be expected.

Review 2 of 2

Ardnamurchan 6yo - FF Bourbon Peated ASB by Thompson Brothers, 59.7% ABV
£65 sold out

Score: 7/10

**Very Good Indeed.**
***TL;DR***
*Belying its age, once again this Ardnamurchan whisky surprises*

Nose

Very subtle nose. Mineralic, characteristic Ardna. Stones, sandy shorelines. Parma violets, surprise. Blueberries, another surprise. Clay. Powdered sugar. Fruit basket smorgasbord. Apples over oven chips. Fried potato.

Palate

Pineapple toasted with marshmallows. Tropical - violets and mango. Blueberries. Pine, salty. Purple toffee. Apples, pencils. Feels fresh, wide. Has all the Ardna character but that blue line is surprising me - delicious!

The Dregs

I love all Ardnamurchan, but I love some more than others. The Cask Strength Release, with its peaty leanings, is not a repeat buy for me. The Core range, with its 50/50 split of unpeated and peated spirits, is a repeat buy, and a permashelf. On the split of bourbs to sherry Ardnamurchan, I’m always going to the red side, and so this fully matured bourbon peated 6yo is on the edge of the love graph before I’ve even started.

On opening, it’s remarkable how little aroma is coming off the glass. Maybe alongside the Finglassie, with the plumes of invisible flavour billowing plentifully out the glass, it’s just a wee bit nervous. Maybe my nose is knackered from persistent peaty smelling, but soon a few notes appear and I relax.

It’s subtle, in this company. Delicate, even. The nose appears and is best appreciated away from more robustly peated affairs. But it’s on the palate that this whisky begins its soaring aria. Unlike the bright, crisp greens, vanillas and burnt sienna’s of the Finglassie, the Ardnamurchan arrives like an ultraviolet beam - blueberries and raspberries, in juice format. Purple, blue, teal. The smoke is there, for sure, but it’s integrated deep inside the velvet box. Sweet, flowering.

Introduced into the smorgasbord of peated bangers noted above, the Ardnamurchan destroys all. It’s nothing like the other three. No ash characteristic to be found at all. It’s pure sweet fruity joy. The peat, what little there is of it, fades and leaves the characteristic maritime, coastal, leafy tropical notes that peated Ardnamurchan delivers in spades. It might not have the unctuous creaminess of the Finglassie, but it’s more open-angle - fresher, airy and wide with the blueberries and salty coastal notes mingling to wonderful results.

A note on just how little age plays into the Ardnamurchan. Where the Finglassie, the Lagavulin and even the 11yo Caol Ila render their flavours through a screen of new-makey foundation (tropical fruit, farmy, yeasty, maltiness), the Ardnamurchan is robust and fruity without any real indication of its 6yo age. A trick I’ve only ever been able to find in Ardnamurchan on my travels around whiskyville. How do they do it?

All in all, they might enjoy identical stats on paper, but there’s a world of difference between the Finglassie and the Ardnamurchan: the Finglassie is a cannonball to the face. The Ardnamurchan is a tickle on the danglies. Both serve their individual purposes, and while the Finglassie is Good Stuff, the Ardnamurchan is DCNSA Very Good Indeed.

It was, as always, the Ardnamurchan for me - it’s just the way it is. More of the boring brilliant same.

Score: 7/10

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

Dramface is free.
Its fierce independence and community-focused content is funded by that same community. We don’t do ads, sponsorships or paid-for content. If you like what we do you can support us by becoming a Dramface member for the price of a magazine.
However, if you’ve found a particular article valuable, you also have the option to make a direct donation to the writer, here: buy me a dram - you’d make their day. Thank you.
For more on Dramface and our funding read our about page here.