Signatory Vintage 100 Proof 13yo #27 | 57.1% ABV

Score: 8/10

**Something Special.**
***TL;DR***
*Fantastic whisky. Fantastic price.*

Don’t be a Dougie.

I’m the guy. The one we all laugh about. The smug little git who watched in horror; the words slipping out of his stupid facehole before he could stop them.

“There’s much better out there, than that, for the money”. Crestfallen, he looked down at the bottle, back at me, back at the bottle, rubbed the gilt label with his thumb lovingly, looked at me and said “yeah?” and, with a flick of my open collar, I said “oh yeah, I’ll show you some stuff”. He dropped his shoulders and walked around the corner to the kitchen, where he thumped the bottle on the table and sat down in a heap of disappointment.

Nothing more was said and the regret, the acidic regret, eroded my friendly, kind heart to reveal a sinister core of gauche elitism that almost ruined what was a spectacular evening; cheering in the Gaelic bells in wonderful company, with wonderful whisky and a glowing feeling that we’ve found our place in the world.

I should know better! For goodness’ sake. In an environment of rapturous celebration could I not have just, this one wee time, for the benefit of all around me, put aside my stupid geekdom and say something like, “that’s a lovely dram that!” That’s all it would’ve taken. A little latitude. A smidge of understanding that not everyone wants, cares or needs to know that the bottle of whisky they covet is not the top rung, not even on the ladder, where we come from.

Misery. I’ve been thinking about it ever since. I can’t get over my acute lack of room reading. I’m usually so good at it. Up here there’s limited whisky available on shelves for folk to get stuck into - the whisky shops around Portree have…ambitious pricing. So there’s slim pickings.

Gah. Even worse than all that, though: the bottle that was poured, generously and unendingly for me to enjoy, was given to him as a gift. In one little sentence, accompanied by two raised eyebrows of filthy know-it-all, I obliterated it.

There was literally nothing wrong with the whisky that he poured me. In fact, in the moment, I was enjoying it like it was the best whisky I’d ever tasted, yum yumming to the rich velvety caramel flavours that were washing around my fuzzy cheeks, and belly laughing at tales of treacherous open ocean voyages to St. Kilda, to retrieve a 60x40ft metal shed on a flat-bottomed boat designed for canals.

He’d given it to me in friendship, welcoming us into his home to celebrate being neighbours, seeing in the new year on the Misty Isle. It was only at the point that he revealed the bottle, in a show of pride at what he was giving to the “whisky connoisseur” this evening, that I sneered.

I liked it so much in fact that, as I finished my 2nd brimmed glass of it, I wondered if I should get a bottle. But then the geek kicked in and I remembered it was £90. Blindly I was enjoying it. Upon reveal I sniggered like a wee school boy, thinking “Oh! How much more enjoyment you’d get for half the price”. Later on, I wandered through to the kitchen for water to see the box thrown on the table, discarded. Worthless.

I’m overthinking this. I messaged him to say that I had a bottle for him as penance for my sins, and he replied saying he had no recollection of that, or anything else that night either. He’d spent the afternoon at the local pub, tanning 6 pints of Guinness before retreating to cocktails at home chased down with whisky. Crofters have serious stamina.

Regardless, it’s still a timely reminder to always be polite, kind and enjoy whatever whisky is given regardless of what it is, and keep my bloody mouth shut. Earlier that evening I’d taken a bottle of Aberlour Casg Annamh to his Old Man’s house to share.

He enjoyed it, despite having an alarmingly fierce chest cold, and then poured me some Whyte & Mackay. You know what, I liked that too. Whisky isn’t the focus in social environments, the people are. In fact, any whisky poured when everyone is assembled together to celebrate, is great whisky.

Get that into your thick head, Crystal.

Anyway, Happy New Year everyone.

Review

Signatory Vintage 100º Proof Series, Speyside (M), Edition #27, First fill ex-oloroso casks, 57.1% ABV
£45 available online, in-store, at time of writing.

The whisky in question was a Macallan 12. Adored the world over and, it’s clear now, filed into the class of “The Good Stuff” up here on the Misty Isle. This isn’t the first time I’ve been served Macallan 12 from someone when they hear I love whisky, as a way to cater to my alleged abilities as a whisky exciter.

I suppose I could go one step further and say that Macallan 12 is everyone’s good whisky. It depends on the situation. Some whisky worldviews begin at whatever’s on offer in the Co-Op that week, and Macallan 12. Perspective is everything. Compared to Co-Op’s own brand of single malt, Macallan 12 is really good. Compared to a niche single cask Macallan from the 90s, of course modern Macallan 12 will pale.

But is Macallan 12 bad? Absolutely, categorically not. It’s all the fluff around it that makes us itch - the price, the status, the auctioneering, the Bond vice, the talk of “investment potential” and all the rest of it. The whisky, itself, is good. Just read Wally’s 2023 thoughts about it. It’s just ridiculously priced for what it is - good whisky.

Anyway, to right my wrong I bought a bottle of Thompson Brother’s TB/BSW Batch 15, to gift to him as evidence I’m not completely stupid, and that a whisky exists that costs half as much and is (hopefully) measurably more engaging than he finds Macallan 12. I’m also hoping for a wee cheeky whisky night where I can then bring some other bits along to see what he gravitates towards, and share in some more of those fantastic island tales.

Today I will consider a bottle bought at the same time: the Signatory 100 Proof Speyside (M), also a Macallan. This 100 Proof series of whisky releases, astonishingly priced when placed alongside recent historical positioning of similar liquid, has been simultaneously celebrated by the punters as whisky that is finally aligned with our expectations of quality vs price. But we’re also starting to see some pushback from other independent bottlers, most prominently by Woodrow’s of Edinburgh.

Releasing a whisky called “A Race to the Bottom Edition” that mimics the Signatory branding style, Woodrow’s called it “101 Proof” and ridiculing Signatory’s “Speyside (M)” moniker with a tongue firmly in cheek “Highland (Motherlover)”. Their leader Woody Tan took to their blog to give a bit more context around why they released such a whisky; a protest bottle.

It seems he’s not best pleased with the tactics of Signatory Vintage, calling foul on their aggressive approach to pricing and stating in no uncertain terms that this move, if employed by more big buyers with access to cheap stock, will make the life of a small independent bottler very difficult indeed. You can read it all here.

The economies of scale and buyer perception as to what is and isn’t value for money, is a topic far too close to home for me right at this very moment, so I will swiftly move on to the liquid in hand, and see if it lights up my face like the fireworks over Skeabost.

Nose

Raisins. Bit of woodiness. Iron. Cherry. Cinnamon stick. Marker pen. Butter toffee / tablet. Rocket, peppery herbs. Soy sauce. Match striker. Salt. Raspberries. Popcorn jelly beans. Sour green. Buttery - Werthers. Stones/minerals. Vanilla beans. Overripe fruit. Chilli jam. Bit of dry cream crackers. Dry super-noodles from Lidl.

Palate

Rich wave of red. Cedar wood. Bit of heat. Those popcorn jelly beans. Toffee laced with strawberry. Bit of treacle toffee. Burnt orange. Baking spices - cinnamon, nutmeg, but with a bit of tartness on the finish. Threat of rubber. A leathery thing, maybe tobacco - cigars?

The Dregs

Distance lends perspective. Being a small independent business in this world is a tough thing, measured by any metric. In most industries the little business is often competing in the same arena with big, established, loved, revered, coveted brands that have been around for decades, if not centuries, and it’s up to the indy to differentiate themselves in some way to attract, or win over, those who naturally gravitate towards the comfort of the known.

A specific question is almost always posed, by any who are asked to consider buying the independent product over the official/established product: why would I buy this when I can get the “real thing” for almost the same money, with all the safety, peace of mind - in quality and in consistency - and the status, that comes with owning that official product.

There’s no answer to it. You should choose the indy because they make the product better? Unlikely. Because they pour more love, more personality, more craft into the product? Maybe, but with a caveat that, at any moment that product could be rendered useless, unsupported, unserviceable, or outdated because the wee business has gone bust.

Whisky is a different industry from most others, I’ll hazard. The official, distillery released products are coveted, bought in bulk because they’ve always been available and punters know exactly what they’re getting - consistency of product, heritage, status. We like it, so we keep buying it and we love that it’s on our shelves when folk come around.

Where whisky diverges versus other industries, is that independent products are offering the same stuff, from the same distilleries, but in ways that often can’t be found through the official channels. Single casks. Unique casks. Small batches. Higher ABV. Unfiltered.

Unlike other industries where independently made products are thrown into the ring of choice for punters to make their minds up, independently bottled whisky is a separate, often more interesting pathway to those official whiskies. Independent whisky isn’t made to resemble or mimic something else. In whisky it’s the same product, made by the same distilleries releasing the official stuff.

There’s always nuance though. Within the independents there are big independents and little independents, and it is here that we’ve recently seen a fracture. Despite the rampant overpricing of whisky these past 4 years, the emergence of surprisingly priced independent whisky has created a disquiet amongst the very smallest of indies.

In the time it’s taken me to take delivery (snow delayed it for a week and a half) and get to know this Signatory bottling, and Woodrow’s to get upset about the strategy and purpose behind the 100 proof series, oor Fletcher has weighed in with his not inconsequential industry experience to give us punters, not au-fait with these sorts of things, some more context.

Decades long industry knowledge sheds light on the fact that Signatory probably were able to buy casks that make up these 100 Proof bottlings, at a price very few independents could dream of, and as a result are still able to turn a profit, despite the £45 asking price.

The friction stems from the current buying market for casks, for small indies, and the resultant prices that they must charge for their unique takes on stalwart spirits. I recently reviewed a fantastic indy bottling of a 5yo Glasgow and, with a bit of prodding, found that very little profit was made on that particular release. The cost of the cask (and no doubt the packaging) made it more an exercise in brand awareness, than a money maker.

Most indies can’t afford to do that more than once or twice - building a business on loss-making products makes for a very short lifespan. Businesses and their workers need money to operate that business and, you know, to live.

Profit margins for those making small batch things are always tight, and most must charge higher prices than bigger folk simply because of the power imbalance. Economies of scale etc. Even if punters paid what was fair for those boutique offerings, there would always be the question - has this been worth the higher asking price?

Think of folk lovingly making hand-cut, hand-stitched leather handbags, pricing them commensurate with the time and effort, materials costs and sourcing, to then suffer the frustration of folk baulking at the price, which happens to be the same as mass-made, make-em-cheap-sell-em-high big brands. Why would I buy your no-name handbag when I can get a Gucci bag for the same price, and be the talk of the tennis club?

Independent bottlers are at the mercy of the folk supplying the whisky inside their bottles. Prices set in an era of whisky when fingers were wagged in the air to decide the cost per cask. It’s the same thing as the hand bags. Why would I pay £100 for an independently bottled 9yo Ben Nevis from W when I can buy an independently bottled 9yo Ben Nevis from X for £45? It is this sentiment that has driven Woodrow’s to write a statement piece, and release a protest bottle.

Read Fletcher's words. Signatory Vintage is a big independent bottler, with inventory and historical buying leverage vastly different to Woodrow’s, Finn Thomson, Fragrant Drops, Thompson Brothers, Little Brown Dog and many other fantastic indies who put out incredible liquid for us all to enjoy. It’s important to labour this before I get into the concluding thoughts on the Signatory Vintage Speyside (M) 13yo, because it gives vital context.

I support the indies, and more than that, I support the indies I know, have chatted to at festivals, shared laughs with and, above all, resonate with their approach to what they do. There’s a reason I’m buying all the North British that Fragrant Drops put out into this world, because I’ve loved them, but also implicitly trust the words of Rachel Dixon when she says this new one is a belter. Buy sight unseen.

But I also know that the chance at a £45, high ABV, double-digit, integrity bottling of Macallan is ludicrous, when compared with the demands for an official bottling: 12yo, 40% chill-filtered and coloured Macallan for £90. As much as I love supporting the indies that I know, I also want to know what Macallan tastes like unfiltered, and I’ll go as far as to assume that’s the mindset of everyone who is buying indie bottlings of whisky. It’s not a question of loyalty. It’s through a pursuit of flavour that I seek out and destroy, even if it means buying from a faceless macho independent bottler.

That’s a whole lot of preamble to say this: I’ve loved this bottle of whisky from the minute I opened it to now, where it’s almost ¾ empty and I’m itching to buy another. It’s fantastic whisky. It’s beautiful, actually. It’s pliable. If I want to just sit with a whisky watching “The Bridge” with Mrs Crystal, this is a fantastic whisky to do just that, and yes, in a straight sided glass. Well, calm down, slightly tapering and made from recycled glass, bought in Portree as a present from my ladies for Christmas…but not a copita.

However, stick this whisky in a copita and do the in-depth enthusiast dance and it delights. There’s none of that saccharine sweetener edge in this Speyside that puts me off the bourbs Speysides. There’s just oodles, and oodles, of fresh red fruits, cedarwoods, rich toffees, caramels, wee pips of toffee sweets and milk chocolate. Thick. Sweet. Moreish. If this is Macallan unfiddled, then I’m all the way in.

£45? I feel slightly guilty that I love it so much after all was said and done by those independents that took umbrage at the price of this Macallan. It’s Signatory’s might that allows them to release this at profit for £45, and as a punter I’m all over it. Is the fact that small indies cannot compete with this pricing model a reason to not buy it? Absolutely not. You pay your money, you take your choice.

I know how much whisky I buy from those small indies, supporting their business and accepting that they have to charge what they do, to make profit to exist. There’s room for both. I’m not suddenly going to focus my entire (dwindling) budget solely on Signatory, but when it comes to the chance to try indy Macallan at this price, this age and this presentation, there’s no way I’m passing it by.

If we don’t like that Signatory can put out stuff like this for £45, then we can also draw a big squeaky black marker line through 4 years of complaints about prices. Everyone wants everything for nothing - it’s a human condition. There’s a legitimate concern that Signatory might just start releasing double-digit big name whisky at £45 and thus wipe out all of the wee indies that cannot possibly match those prices.

But like Fletcher so aptly said in his review, we enthusiasts know and love them indies. We know and love their approach. We love the cut of their jib. Aye Signatory has done this, and it’s magic whisky, but it’s a long stretch of time before Signatory is the only independent bottler in existence because they monopolised the market with low-ball bottlings. Just keep doing what you’re doing, stay on course and I’ll keep buying your whisky too. I will always gravitate to the folk. It’s the people. Always the people.

Cracking whisky. Fantastic price; that price has tipped it over from a 7/10 to an 8/10 - “An excellent choice and well worth purchasing at the retail price. Likely to go on to be held in high regard. Beautiful whisky to savour.“ For £45 there’s a lot to love. Think about the last time you bought a high ABV integrity whisky that was both easy to sip and interesting to dissect. I bet it wasn’t £45?

If it hadn’t been for my faux-pas at New Year’s and the guilt to prove I’m not just a smoking exhaust pipe of elitism, then I’d not have tried this. So I can’t be too upset. Here’s hoping for a more affordable cask buying market soon, for the indies we know, love and champion. Likewise, here’s hoping for more affordable indy Macallan.

Addendum: This is release #27 - there’s also an earlier release #25 Speyside (M) 100 Proof series that seems to have been a bit sulphurous and challenging. I didn’t find anything of the sort in this one. Maybe that’s why it’s hanging around…

Score: 8/10

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

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