Càrn Mòr Whitlaw
Distilled at Highland Park | 47.5% ABV
Score: 6/10
Good stuff.
TL;DR
Coastal, dark tobacco toffee vibes. What’s not to like?
Being a whisky geek brings unfortunate responsibilities…
My pal, the one that brings me whisky every time he visits, asked me the other week to recommend some new whisky to him.
At this point he’s bought pretty much every suggestion I had given him, and enjoyed each one, which has given me great satisfaction. Some were enjoyed more than others, of course, but in general he was starting to really love being in the whisky sphere.
His favourite so far has been the Talisker 10 - the Amazon special £27 bottling that we all jumped on and enjoyed it for what a £27 whisky should be - tasty. There’s been a few that he’s genuinely loved - a Benriach 12 was his gateway into whisky and he’s been a repeat buyer ever since. Glen Garioch 12 is a staple too, alongside Glen Scotia Double Cask. I’m really chuffed that he’s enjoying whisky, having been a “whisky tastes like whisky to me” guy a little over a year ago.
Being the advisor that someone like him comes to for suggestions is great fun, because it affords me the potential to increase their whisky appreciation with each new experience, opening up doors to new flavours and revealing another rabbit hole to stick their head into. It also comes with pitfalls, and I suffered one of them this week when he asked what he should buy next. His brief was “like the Talisker 10”.
I took a punt. Knowing what others have said about Bunnahabhain 12 being a coastal dram, with some offering it up as their favourite ever dram, I thought it likely perfect to match the Talisker’s sweet, maritime feel. I have only tried one 35ml sample of this renowned whisky, but felt confident enough in many of my peer’s love of it to suggest the Bunna as the next whisky he should get. He opened it, and knew immediately it wasn’t for him.
Allegedly he gave it a good shot but each time it reminded him of dampness, he said, and thus wasn’t in his wheelhouse of sweet delicious treats. I asked him to bring it up the next time he was here so that I could see what he was talking about, but he forgot it in the rush to beat the traffic of a Monday morning. He’s up here again in a few weeks and I’ll make sure he brings it then, so that I can give it the proper Doogie swirl. Regardless, I feel a wee bit guilty about it all, and signals my first duff recommendation. Bummer.
Review
Càrn Mòr Whitlaw 7yo, 47.5% ABV
£55 paid
Luckily for him I had recently purchased, from them boys up in Fraserburgh at Kinnaird Head Whiskies, a bottle of something called Whitlaw. I’ve been circling Càrn Mòr for ages but never took the punt on their rebranded stuff - no reason why, I’ve just been busy with buying other things! I did buy an old-style Carn Mòr Glen Garioch 6yo last year and loved it. Anyway alongside this Whitlaw I also ordered a bottle of their new-style Glen Garioch 9yo. I’m trying to space out my gushings for the Geery, so will review that when I open it during my April holibags.
Whitlaw you say? Yeah, I had no idea what this could be either but the colour of it looked spectacular - deep reddish amber. I’m no colour fanatic and will happily pick very light whisky, so long as it ticks my boxes, but something about this made me stop and consider. Whitlaw… for a split second I wondered if I was being typical stupid Doog and not realising it’s an older distillery being bottled under new labels, but a quick zoom into the label revealed smaller text above the Whitlaw moniker, stating “Distilled at: Highland Park”.
I’ve moaned about this a lot and I know it comes down to piffling nuances of brand awareness and protection, but just call it what it is - if it’s Highland Park, put Highland Park on the label…oh, Càrn Mòr have. But not really, because it’s called Whitlaw. It’s almost tantamount towards a shot across the bow of naming conventions, isn’t it - they are not allowed to say this is Highland Park outright, so they call it Whitlaw, but then write Highland Park above it in smaller text. There will be a reason for this I’m sure, but it falls almost in the same bracket as calling Highland Park “An Orkney” knowing that, of the two distilleries on Orkney, only one offers casks to indies, and it’s not Scapa.
Naming weirdness aside, this is a whisky finished in STR casks - shaved, toasted and re-charred: a way to breathe new life into declining casks. It was pioneered by the mythical whisky man Dr. Jim Swan, of whom I have yet to become familiar, but a quick Google reveals this STR business to be of his doing. By shaving the more saturated inner walls of the previously filled cask, and then toasting this thinner skin with wood chips to caramelise the newly exposed sugars, before charring it all again to remove the bitterness, tannins and weird stuff, the cask is able to offer a mix of both rejuvenated semi-saturated oak and virgin oak, within which to mature the spirit further. Clever, innit? There’s no mention of what this Whitlaw cask previously held.
Well I’m not too au fait with this whole STR business yet, and I’ve previously only tried the STR wine barrique offering from Lindores Casks of Lindores cask, from Lindores and found it a bit sharp and not that impactful. I’m also not sure where STR casked whisky sits in the grand scheme of whisky exciters, on the scale of love to hate, but when I posted up a picture of the rather lovely Geery and Whitlaw Càrn Mòr bottles I received a message from a veteran Distillery Manager saying that he owns this Whitlaw and didn’t enjoy it that much - STR is not his thing.
The colour of the whisky in person is even more astounding than the pictures online and, when I got my mitts on it, the sun was blasting through the office window casting a glorious beam of amber prismic light over the table, forcing me to have a closer look at how Càrn Mòr present their whisky (and take loads of photos). Really impressive stuff.
The bottle design is quite lovely, affording the whisky inside space to shine, whilst having quite large labels on front and back for info. And what glorious labelling it is - copper foiled letterpress branding with blind embossing of logos and two-toned, offset papers. The real-cork stopper is a work of art: soft-edged light wood with circumference engraving and a stamped copper disc set into the cap which, when the bottle is unopened, blends seamlessly into the copper coloured tin foil around the neck. It’s only when you unzip it that the tin is revealed to be crotchless…the copper disc is exposed both when the bottle is unopened and when the foiling is removed. Ingenious! The glass design is well thought out too, with loads of lovely little flourishes and details, a big heavy paperweight base and lovely silhouette. I have to say I’m fair impressed with it all.
Anyway, it might be a total stinker, so let’s get the crotchless cap off and see what it’s all about.
Nose
Under-ripe banana peel. Really fragrant, peppery plastic tarp. Midnight petrichor. Fresh flowers. Coca cola.
Post run breath. Tobacco. Pipe smoke inside a wood boat cabin. Salty rocks.
Palate
Sweet tobacco leaves. Salted toasted oak. Asphalt. Sanded oak dust. Highland toffee bar dipped into and then eaten beside the sea. Tea bags. Salty spice, mineralic and fresh. Bit of sharpness - not really citrus but an edge nonetheless. Cinnamon and gingerbread at the death, but a glancing blow rather than an uppercut.
The Dregs
I bought this two weeks ago and opened it on the Thursday of that week, as has become almost routine now for new bottles. Two weeks later and it’s down to 1/3rd of the bottle - that’s how much I have been enjoying it. It’s coastal up the kazoo - the saltiness of it all alongside those dense toffee notes and sweeping vaults through various oak workshops, it’s wonderful fun and my pal was immediately on board - Talisker 10yo can do one.
It’s not a showstopper like the Adelphi Geery, oh no no no. But it’s not a mediocre dram by any stretch either. I have certainly forgotten all about the young age statement on the label, such is the depth and interest in this whisky character, and I have to say that of all the Orkney whiskies I’ve tried through the indies, none of them have disappointed me so far. The previous Highland Park I sunk my rapidly squinting teeth into was the “An Orkney” from Cadenhead’s Warehouse range and, well I contributed to Hamish’s review here, so find out for yourself what I thought.
This being the second Highland Park I’ve purchased and consumed enough to know better, I can’t help but be swooned by the marine Orcadian viking dram de jour. I tried a wee side-by-side with the other Orcadian distillery and found that the Scapa, exhibiting similar coastal vibes, was quite a lot more floral and sweet - like a Flora and Fauna version of Orkney whisky. This Whitlaw has an edginess, a tobacco and tea leaf floor that I can’t help but get down and wriggle about in.
£55 for a 47.5%, non chill-filtered, naturally presented whisky with this amount of coastal fun going on is always going to be a worthwhile endeavour. Yes, it's 7 years of age, but I’ve really got into the way of celebrating whisky blinkered to maturity statements - age is just a number and often not indicative of quality, taste, depth or character - let auld Doog stand as Exhibit A on that charge. It’s what happens inside the face that really counts, and luckily this hits me right in the feels.
If it was £10 cheaper it might have been a 7/10. The Glen Scotia 8yo Festival bottling was a super whisky at cask strength for £55, and I scored that a 6 - which by the way is an above average score on the Dramface scoring system. If this was presented at 56.5% like the Scotia, it might have hit the 7 mark too. Whisky is going up in price, that’s just a fact and we have to be cognisant of what we’re getting for our money these days. But, given the enjoyably meandering flavour journey this Whitlaw offered, I still feel it’s money well spent.
I reckon one more good experience with indies and I’ll be on the Highland Park offensive.
Score: 6/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. DC
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