Highland Park Cask Strength
Batch 001 | 63.3% ABV
A Raw Highland Park Devoid of Corporate Interventions
For many years, enthusiasts have been imploring recognisable brands to release more pure whiskies, especially for those of us who can’t partake in distillery tours or get special distillery releases.
These natural colour, non-chill-filtered, higher ABV/cask strength releases are a gateway to the distillery character and the quality of the liquid slumbering away in the casks. When Highland Park released their first official Cask Strength bottling, I had to snatch one up.
As Highland Park is arguably one of Scotch whisky’s most recognisable brands – whether you agree with the heavy Viking theme or not – you would think that Dramface would have reviewed more official bottlings from this reputed distillery. But alas, it would appear that we have yet to review anything official, with four published reviews of independent HP bottlings tallied in our first nine months of Dramface. I’m not sure the reason why – I’m not even sure if a Cask Strength release is the most representative of the liquid that many enjoy around the world – but it is what it is.
My reason for this review was simple: whisky weather. As Drummond recently wrote in the Kilchoman Loch Gorm review, whisky weather and the need for stronger flavours and peat smoke come around in the fall and winter months for me also. Winter is settling in here, with over 35 cm of snow and blustery conditions bordering on -25ºC already in the waning days of November. Returning from walking the dogs, my 4-year-old son, and my 1-year-old daughter in a stroller through snow-drowned pathways, I turned to a wee cask strength nip to warm the extremities at lunch.
Now, pardon a perpendicular tangent here – Christmas cake, or fruitcake. With the popular date approaching at the end of December, this common loaf or cake often gets my ire and routinely reminds me of Highland Park. Christmas cake is an oft-referenced flavour descriptor and one that is commonly associated with Highland Park by friends and others. It might be different for you, but here in Canada and with our proximity the US, I feel we don’t get ‘proper’ Christmas cake/fruitcake. The common supermarket varieties, even the luxury items, miss the mark by a country mile. They are oily, overly sweet, and lack any sort of distinct fruit flavours. (Bear with me for another paragraph — I promise you, I’m coming to my point.)
My family was never big on these cakes, preferring to leverage my strong Norse heritage with treats like krumkake (vanilla wafer rolls) or lefse (potato crepes) in the holiday months. Making these items is a time-consuming affair which brings the family together in an all-hands-on-deck assembly line.
It was only when a close family friend departed for the Middle East as a helicopter mechanic in the Air Force that I paid more attention. Unbeknownst to me, these bases are often “dry” —alcohol is prohibited. His one request was simple: send him a fruitcake in December. And not just any fruitcake, but a traditional one — soaked in alcohol. This was the only way to sneakily get alcohol into the military bases, and these cakes were the ultimate bargaining chip and a reminder of home.
Making one cake for this friend and the other for us, I candied julienned orange peels, cooked dates, pitted cherries, diced dried apricots and raisins, and toasted almonds and pecans. Mixed all together with cinnamon, clove, and nutmeg, it baked in the oven, filling the house with wonderful fruitcake smells — most of which did not remind me of fruitcake notes often referenced in whisky.
Now the best part: preservation. While supermarket loaves are inoculated with chemicals and vegetable oil, old-school fruitcake is preserved with alcohol. Reaching into my whisky shelves for a suitable “cooking whisky”, a full bottle of Bowmore 12yo practically lept into my hand. It was a whisky that wasn’t speaking to me with its jagged profile and poorly integrated fruit and smoke. Realistically, any high-proof distilled spirit would work, but my shelves were stocked with whisky. Splashing that onto the loaves the moment they were removed from the oven, a wonderful intermingling of fruitcake and whisky filled the air. Now that’s the smell of fruitcake in whisky!
The second part of preservation involved wrapping the loaves in cheesecloth and routinely soaking them in said whisky over the span of a few weeks, before letting them age and integrate several months before consuming. Slicing into our fruitcake months later, the flavours were incredible. Sweet. Nutty. Fruity. Oranges. Raisins. Baking spices and a hint of smoke. Wow, simply wow. That is the Christmas cake or fruitcake flavour that I will always compare against. Plus, that was the best that Bowmore 12yo had ever tasted. Sorry not sorry, Bowmore.
As I mentioned earlier, fruitcake flavours are often found in sherried whiskies, and they are something that I find is commonly associated with Highland Park. Heck, even Highland Park states fruitcake as an official tasting note in the readily available 12yo release. Let’s see if I find fruitcake in the 12yo’s stronger sibling…
Review
Highland Park Cask Strength, 2020 Release, Batch 001, 63.3% ABV
CAD$125 sold out (Batch 003 available £60)
The first cask strength release by Gordon Motion, Highland Park’s master distiller, is a non-age-statement whisky vatted from predominantly sherry-seasoned American oak. It has been released without chill filtering or colouring.
Nose
Unmistakable smell of burnt orange peel. There is a wood char smell that reminds me of burnt brisket ends from my offset smoker. Butterscotch lingers behind the veil of burnt flavours. If this were served to me blind and neat, I would be hard-pressed to say it was a peated whisky. But putting my nose above the top rim of the glass, the traditional smells of Highland Park 12 emerge clearly. The ABV doesn’t rear its head on the nose; this smells something closer to a low 50%-er.
With some water, the butterscotch is moved to the forefront and now accompanied by honeycomb. The burnt orange peel turns into candied orange peel, not the fake supermarket ones but peels boiled in simple syrup before being left to air dry and dusted with granulated sugar. The meaty burnt notes are nowhere to be found.
Palate
While your first sip will detect the ABV, especially if you didn’t have a low ABV palate warmer before this heavy hitter, successive sips are where the magic is. There is such a density and weight to the flavours that you could swear that Mjolnir had crash-landed onto your tongue before Stormbreaker’s lightning lightly lashed the back of your throat (sorry, couldn’t help tossing some Thor stuff in here).
Walnuts and raisins. Touch of bitter dark chocolate intermingling with an oily clinging sweetness. Small hint of burnt matches. The peat is still nowhere to be found. At full strength, the density and ABV are driving the show while the last vestiges of your organoleptic senses try to process the remaining flavours.
With some water, oranges, caramel, honey, and a dark chocolate or walnut bitterness dance across your tongue. The raisins and burnt matches have almost disappeared. It still clings wonderfully to your mouth. The ABV tingle has moved from tickling your throat to dropping some chilli peppers on your tongue. A bit more water tones everything down and a hint of Highland Park’s deft touch of peat pops out.
The Dregs
I’m thankful that Highland Park chose to release an official cask strength variant, especially since the much smaller enthusiast market are likely the only consumers to purchase these releases. I wish others would take notice and follow suit. Official bottling of cask strength Arran 10 or Tobermory 12? Yes please! I would even take a punt on a cask strength Macallan in non-neutered and non-fake tan form, assuming I wouldn’t have to sell a kidney to buy it. Personally, I think that’s where others such as Bunnahabhain have fallen short with their aggressive pricing for the specialty cask strength releases as of late and where this Release No.1 hits a sweet spot for me.
This whisky is also a bit of a swiss army knife. I find that some other cask strength releases are often enjoyed at full strength or have a single magic point, with the other ABVs flatter or over-emphasise singular notes. With varying dilution, this one maintains the core flavours while revealing other subtle nuances, allowing you to tailor the strength to your personal preference. I never did find fruitcake.
I know some of the negative Nancys — such as our colourful Judge Dredd, Dallas Mhor — have rallied against the fanciful labelling and marginal changes in the quality or flavours of the liquid inside Highland Park’s many ‘special releases’ in recent history. Personally, I don’t mind the Viking theme. Yes, it can be over the top, but it does double down on a sense of place and marketing recognizability. In the growing whisky market in the world, brand recognition will only help keep sales volume up amidst a sea of new and colourful labels. And not that it matters, but I’m three fourths Norse, so I feel a small amount of kinship to the theme — however brash it is.
That said, some of Highland Park’s releases have caught my ire by the simple fact that there are more myths and legends provided to the consumer than any detailed information on the contents in the bottle. We would have more patience if there were more details provided and there were appreciable differences between releases.
Will I be chasing future releases of Highland Park’s Cask Strength series? Nope. The current Release No. 3 is selling for CAD$160 (£100) in my area, whereas UK-based retailers are selling it for £60-70. At $160, there are far more interesting and exciting whiskies to chase, including some cask strength 15-20 year-old Secret Orkneys from independent bottlers. Why wouldn’t I purchase these well-aged mid-to-high 50% ABV whiskies from reputable brands rather than an NAS official bottling?
If Highland Park’s pricing has remained relatively sane in your region, then by all means, snap these up and try them. They are delicious and an experience if you’re a fan of Highland Park. I would happily pay the CAD$125 I picked this one up for, but it’s just not delicious enough to justify the new pricing for me.
Score: 6/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. BB
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