Milk & Honey Apex Dead Sea
Israeli Single Malt Whisky | 56.2% ABV
Score: 7/10
Very Good Indeed.
TL;DR
A veritable painter’s palette of flavours with unmistakable heritage
Strange Times
The sun is shining here. In fact, the entire week has been beautiful blue skies, temperatures in the mid-teens, birds chirping, and the first daffodils bringing some much-needed colour to the greenery. Barring the odd local farmer spraying toxic fumes on their farms (and yes, I get it—without feeding the soil, we wouldn’t get crops, etc.), conditions are perfect for an outdoor dram.
The spraying of the fields reminds me of a little occurrence sometime during Covid, remember that? Looking out on blue skies and not really being able to do anything meaningful with the day? Anyway, on one particular day, driving home from what was my highlight of the Covid week. Yes, a distanced, mask-wearing outing in a supermarket where everyone walked in one direction while pasta was being rationed and - God only knows why - the toys and book sections were roped off like forbidden fruit. Anyway, I passed a small fire on the farm that neighbours my village (the village I live in, I don’t own a village).
I have spent much of my life living around farms and the countryside and, whilst not an expert on the smell of fires, I damn well know when someone is burning something they shouldn’t. This fire was clearly burning a heap of plastic, or at the very least, something giving off the same chemical fumes as plastic. Wood, general farm debris or even carcasses - this was not.
Foolishly, I took to the village’s social media page to thank the farmer for delivering a cloud of toxic and nauseous odours and chemicals that wafted in and loitered about the village for much of the day. I didn’t think much of my post – it was sarcastic and was purely there to hopefully get around to the farmer’s attention that their actions had caused a great deal of discomfort and annoyance to many of their neighbours.
A few hours or so later I noticed that several locals had joined me in showing their displeasure in how toxic the fumes had been – turns out there was some history with this particular farm in burning things they shouldn’t be. But there were also a couple of posts from locals who decided that my whingeing was somehow missing the bigger picture, in that we were in the middle of a pandemic where lots of people had already lost their lives. One contributor even went so far as to remind me that ‘many would dearly long to be alive to be able to smell the fire’.
‘This,’ they went on, ‘I had selfishly not considered’. I’m not sure that is quite the highlight of living and breathing they missed. Covid was such a strange period in our existence, and it is remarkable to think it was just a few years ago. Opinions were formed, and suddenly, you were deemed to be ‘with the science’ or ‘against the science’. One of these all-too-common modern scenarios where we’re forced to take sides, as if there are only two options.
I don’t want to dwell on it all, but instead use the above nonsense to hopefully point out that, as people, we get through difficult times. No doubt we are in a greater pickle now than we were then – we seem to be hopping from one boiling point to another and, as we do, we (and really, I mean the media) fade the last one into oblivion.
As our daily news feeds jump around the world from one disaster, catastrophe, or horrific act to the next, the human element is at the heart of all of this. So far as we know, we are the only beings who are self-aware, and whilst clearly, that does not always equate to sapience or apathy, we are all along for the ride—no matter how long or uncomfortable it is.
And so, when it came time to unwrap this bottle for review, I was reminded of the owners, who I am extremely privileged and proud to call friends. I have met and spent time with almost the entire company, and better company you will need to search long and hard to find. Recent events in their native Israel have caused all sorts of vitriol and nonsense to be directed at them – as if they are guilty of something by pure geographical coincidence.
This is not a political website, and I will not dare to even dip the nail of my little toe into those waters. I will, however, embrace my friends when I see them. I will drink heartily of their waters, revel in their tales, their culture and their love for all things whisky.
I am extremely grateful that they have continued to do what they do best, and whilst I have no desire that they smell anything obnoxious from fires, local or otherwise, the fact that they can is of immense relief and comfort.
Review
Milk & Honey Apex, Dead Sea Small Batch, Batch 10, Israeli Single Malt Whisky, distilled 24th June 2018, bottled 4th July 2021, 4892 bottles, 56.2% ABV
£85 UK pricing
This particular bottle was handed to me by our editor-in-chief, after I expressed a desire to try this particular release, and it is quite unique. They transport the casks across the mountains to the Dead Sea for maturation. At over 400 meters below sea level, it’s the lowest place on Earth and regularly reaches temperatures of up to 50°C. We expect dramatic things from this ‘accelerated’ maturation.
Score: 7/10
Very Good Indeed.
TL;DR
A veritable painter’s palette of flavours with unmistakable heritage
Nose
A rich minerality. Salted crumbly vanilla biscuits – this is so reminiscent of a Scottish biscuit, but I cannot place it and am not going to buy all of them just to narrow it down. This is a juicy-rich nose; apricots, figs, bitter orange. A hint of ‘Kinnie’ for those who have been to Malta. Marzipan – toasted almonds. There is an awful lot going on in this and frankly each sniff is allowing a deeper insight. It’s like a really great Progressive Rock track that rewards each listen.
Palate
The juicy-sweetness continues with a harder edge to the saline qualities. Again, a large minerality is evident. At full strength the flavours are slightly squished together – sort of like too many personalities in a lift. With just a drop of water that mineral hardness softens and more of those fruity flavours are released along with a coastal element – but that could just be the saltiness being softened.
The Dregs
I’ve already mentioned that I don’t just like these guys; they are friends. Does that mean I will automatically love everything they do? No.
A Pomegranate-wine cask was released a while ago that was not to my liking (although now I’m wondering if it ever made it to the UK?), but this bottling will please so many whisky drinkers.
There is a depth of flavour without it being just a stewed melange of things in a way some ex-Sherry or PX casks can be. The nose goes on and on like a 1950s American car – complete with curves, wings and a boot large enough to fit a family of five.
It is not cheap but I cannot begin to imagine the costs involved with maturing at the Dead Sea, with its enormous evaporation and angel’s share, and then shipping to the RoW. But I can guarantee, having already done this, that when presented blind (and I am alluding to the fact that there are some corners of the world that think only the Scots make whisky) it raises eyebrows and gets people talking.
Score: 7/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. FF
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