Official Bottling | 43% ABV

Score: 4/10

**Some promise.**
***TL;DR***
*A pleasant peat bomb to pop your cherry, ten years ago*

Going back home may be difficult if you find yourself changed.

”Prepare to experience true freedom and bliss” - Ron Swanson.

Words of a portrayal which may have sparked a whole new generation of single malt scotch whisky fanatics.

I was always meant for scotch whisky by Indian birthright, but that didn’t change the fact the first bottle I bought from my modest tuppence doing maths tutoring was a bottle of Lagavulin 16. Whether you watched Parks and Recreation or not, the character of Ron Swanson (played by Nick Offerman) has at some level become a whisky icon. A lone-wolf stoic libertarian who can sand down a canoe and likes nothing more than a plate of eggs and a bloody steak with a tumbler of Lagavulin, the masculinity is practically pulsating… well maybe if you were 17 in the year 2008.

All impressionable imaging for young adults and why not go for the familiar, pronounceable bottle you’ve seen on TV, Netflix or whatever manner you consume your shows. Being the sole whisky drinker within the group of beer or wine drinkers in friends and family, it’s probably the only single malt they’ll be able to name even before classics such as Glenfiddich. Marketing is a powerful beast, but perhaps it’s not just that which has led to Lagavulin’s place in the mainstream consciousness.

Peat. Smoky, savoury, sweet, salty, sumptuous peat. The sachet of whisky MSG that can turn clear liquid into something more potent than a fish head curry laksa. Peat can be divisive, especially Islay peat, but I’ve also found it to be the “aha” moment for many whisky converts.

Rather than trying to bring people in with the subtleties of vanilla and honey from classic Glenfiddich, peat can sometimes hide the alcoholic bite that can act as a precluding barrier for new drinkers. So many from the recent generation of drinkers can point to Lagavulin 16yo as their entryway to peat, which then takes them on the slip lane to the greater whisky highway.

This could be different back home in Scotland, Ireland, or America where they are home to their own ubiquitous whisky category. But here in Australia, where the majority volume of whisky is still imported, Lagavulin 16 is the origin point.

Without this bottle, the Islay peat fanaticism definitely looks different. It may still exist but arguably not at the level in which it thrives now. However it’s not all celebrations, the beast has started to feast on its own tail, with Islay whiskies tacking on premiums more and more in recent years.

Yes, Calder’s banging on about the rise of whisky prices yet again but it’s absolutely valid here for the Lagavulin 16. The price, even as recently as 2020, could still be found by mainstream retailers for $96AUD. However, now it’s mostly available at chain retailers for $180-$199AUD. A 100% increase in less than five years.

What was an entry-point into the world of peat and single malts is now a premium luxury for someone blindly committed to the pursuit of Lagavulin peat. Prices have increased across the board, I won’t wax lyrical about that, but can Lagavulin 16 still defend its legacy when it comes to flavour?

Review 1/4, Calder

Lagavulin 16yo, Official bottling, 43% ABV
AUD$180, (original price paid AUD$96)

Nose

Peppery peat prominent on the nose though the intensity slightly subdued. Redcurrant sweetness builds, with some Amarena cherries. Coastal smoked mussels with burnt bacon and white pepper. Wisps of cherrywood and Russian Caravan tea.

Palate

Burning driftwood and pepper-laced baked fish. Dried fruits with a pinch of salt. Maple sweetness and smoky brisket with a short sudden finish. A prominent lack of texture or oiliness, the peat is the backbone and the sweetness feels like a sudden jolt that departs as soon as you taste it.

The Dregs

Revisiting where you once began is a bizarre experience. It’s like going back to a place from your childhood as an adult. The furniture seems miniaturised, the rooms are claustrophobic, and the colour seems just slightly faded. The Lagavulin 16 was seminal for me as an 18 year old beginning my whisky journey, it shaped the start of my palate and continued my love for Islay. But revisiting this years, and many bottles, flights and drams later, fails to capture that initial magic. A lack of texture and body after years of seeking naturally presented whisky feels like the biggest barrier. The sherry sweetness feels one-dimensional and slightly flat, a potential fallout from tired casks?

Power has corrupted the king, as prices vastly outweigh what thus whisky now brings to the table. At just over half the price in Australia you could fashion yourself an Ardbeg 10yo or Port Charlotte 10yo , I agree with my Dramface colleagues on these being deliciously solid.

Whether it’s the chill filtration or lower ABV bringing the Lagavulin down, I’m not sure, but in the glass and on the palate it’s falling short, taking up residence as a nostalgic memory instead of a daily drinker.

Score: 4/10 CD

Review 2/4, Ogilvie

Lagavulin 16yo, Official bottling, 43% ABV
Price paid USD$96

Lagavulin 16 has received piles of criticism over the past few years due to its skyrocketing price. Gouging for a coloured, chill filtered, and sub 46% ABV presentation. In my market, the price went from roughly $55 in 2018 to more than $100 in 2022 (it has now taken a dip to the present market price of $90 at last check – I bought my bottle in 2021). The criticism? 100% valid.

As with so many, Lagavulin 16 was among my first transformative whiskies – a whisky that drew me down the single malt rabbit hole. That said, while the price and marketing has turned putrid, the whisky is still the same good whisky.

For me, this dram rocked my world when I first had it. Since then, over years of growing my single malt bandwidth, I’ve found more interesting, more diverse, and more natural bottles. It doesn’t make the first moving experience any less meaningful, but that expanded bandwidth puts Lagavulin 16 into context.

Context is the operative word. To name a few, Kilchoman, Balcones, Port Charlotte, Ardnamurchan, McCarthy’s (yes, Hamish. I finally got one), Ledaig, Westland, etc., all give us greater perspective as to what fully natural peated drams can deliver, and at a fraction of Lagavulin’s price.

It will always have that special place, though today it is far from my first choice when reaching for a peated whisky due to other, wonderful peat expressions that don’t rob you at gunpoint.

Score: 5/10

**Average.**
***TL;DR***
*Still solid, despite efforts to turn folk against it*

Nose

Distant bonfire smoke on a beach. Candy bacon (I made for my kids while they were growing up, which is bacon topped with cracked pepper and brown sugar and then baked). Hint of stewed fruit and vanilla.

Palate

Sweet peaty goodness. The sherry cask influence marries with the rich peat smoke. Pungent. The cracked pepper is there. As is the stewed fruit. Raisins and dates. With the finish, there is a spiciness other than pepper. Ginger.

The Dregs

Still a solid dram… despite Diageo’s efforts to turn people against it. The score? Can’t be a six, as there are so many other tremendous and delicious peated single malts out there that shine as brightly or even more, and will not insult you with price.

I say this with peace and love, but there is no way this is a US$90 bottle of whisky.

Score: 5/10 OS

Review 3/4, Gilbert

Lagavulin 16yo, Official bottling, 43% ABV
Price £79.99, (original price paid £41)

Bob Dylan once said: “The times they are a-changin’” and while I’m not too sure how grammatically correct that statement is, it seems to summarise the general consensus on this bottle. Well at least among us keyboard whisky warriors.

I’ve ensured I’ve not read anyone else's thoughts in the review folder, yet in my gut I can already feel similar sentiments being aggressively typed out.

This was my first splash into serious smokey scotch, I still remember how vividly it heartily slapped me across the cheeks leaving a fishy-faced grin gagging for another glass.

Now maybe I have become spoiled by superior offerings, or it is that Diageo’s greed replaced the once joyful soot with bitter ash, Lagavulin 16 no longer clicks for me. Nurturing the magical spirit for 16 years surely is a pricey endeavour and a steady cost increase would be accepted, but to produce such a financial leap it can’t be ignored. Either way, now to the liquid.

Score: 6/10

**Good stuff.**
***TL;DR***
*I had to proffer a 6, despite not feeling the ‘priced fairly’ sentiment of Dramface scoring*

Nose

Soft, sweet and slightly sherried smoke wafts daintily from the glass, far from the peat punch I expected. A flame-singed leather jacket that has washed up on to a pebble topped beach with pockets stuffed with satsumas and rosemary twigs. We all found one growing up, right?

Palate

An impressively oily texture carries quite a mix of flavour ranging from sharp blackberries to tinned tuna water. A mild lactic note starts to creep in on further sips, like smoked cheese lying on top of a chargrilled charcuterie board. Underlying softness lures me in for a second mildly pleasing pour.

The Dregs

I felt pretty set on my score until I checked the Dramface scoring system. The first two words of a 6/10 states “Priced fairly” which really pulled the Ron Swanson adorned rug out from under me. The £69 sale price, which seems to be everywhere in the UK at the moment, is a justifiable price for this bottle but further inflation really makes it difficult to stomach this “Good stuff”.

I’m super grateful that the Dramface team let me spew my tasting notes but today is the day I’ll make a stand and ignore that “Priced fairly” sentence. This is better than an average scotch, even if its owners have dragged it through the soot-filled mud.

Score: 6/10 GG

Review 4/4, Hamish

Lagavulin 16yo, Official bottling, 43% ABV
£75-£85, (original price paid £55)

It was seven years ago, around this time of year, where I purchased five or so samples from the Master of Malt website. Delighted with some try-before-you-buy treats, among Bunnahabhain 12 and Ledaig 10 there was a little taster of Lagavulin 16.

Up until this time, my experience with peat/smoke/brine wasn't a pleasant one. Highland Park 10 reminded me of a cold ashtray filled with wet, spent cigarettes. But, this Lagavulin was the whisky that folks ranted and raved about. The pinnacle Islay malt. So a small sample wouldn't hurt compared to buying a full bottle and not enjoying it.

That was the day my whisky life and how I enjoyed whisky changed. The rabbit hole opened and geekdom was the destination.

Score: 6/10

**Good stuff.**
***TL;DR***
*Unjustifiable price in today’s space, too much choice to fill the void*

Nose

Memories. The initial sniff brings me back to my first experience with this malt and an enjoyable one at that. Saltiness right up front, and it's quite rich on the nose.

The expected peat greets me with a sweet tone of lemon sherbet and fresh smoked salmon. Quite minty too which is a surprise. Cooked celery. Mint and pine leaves squished between your fingers. Selection of cold, sliced meats. It's a soft smoke that's married in there too. Touch of icing sugar, maple syrup and charred dried wood

Palate

Prickle of pepper and smoke on the first arrival of the sip. It has a nice mouthfeel. Rounded, developing flavours of that smoked salmon drizzled in cold lemon and a tiny hint of dill; probably what I got on the nose instead of celery. Fish brine. A delicate dance of smoke on the tongue with the salinity and charred wood being the foundational element that lasts after the sip. A pop of cayenne pepper in there too. Also reminds me of an old tea bag. I can tease out some, but not a lot, dried apricot and brown sugar. Lovely fresh peat throughout this dram, with an added light finish.

The Dregs

It saddens me this bottle is just now unjustifiable in terms of price. It is coloured, chill-filtered and a touch below 46%. But for a 16 year old whisky, picking this up for around £50-55 was a great deal. There was so much enjoyment when popping this and I do hold some sentimental value towards the Lagavulin.

There are whiskies that’ll fill this void. Some whiskies that are much better in terms of quality and satisfaction. I do love this due to how it transformed my attitude to this wonderful liquid. At current prices, it wouldn’t be one I'd purchase anytime soon. But it’s good. Of course it is. Comparing it to whisky and releases from new distilleries is a little unfair. It isn’t going to stand up against added quality.

Instead, we’ll reminisce about this one.

Score: 6/10 HF

Wally’s Remarks

I was keen to contribute my own notes and thoughts covering my relationship with Lagavulin’s Prince of Islay. I also fell at its feet. I owe it a lot.

Yet, despite my colleagues joining the whisky fray much more recently, their words are virtually copy-and-paste my own as I come to terms with a bottle no longer lingering in the whisky pit. So, rather than add more of the same sentiment, I’ll leave you with a thought.

As Diageo continue to market to a younger and more diverse audience, no doubt mindful of a need to balance out potent masculinity from the world’s Ron Swansons, how many of that target demographic can afford to step on the £80+ ladder?

And so, in the UK this has become the whisky permanently on sale. Not a good look.

They need to avoid the same disaster of optics that whisky and brown spirits suffered as the Seventies slipped into the Eighties. But with this, one of their most potent weapons of recruitment to flavour-driven experiences now often more than twice their previous prices, they’ve effectively neutered it.

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

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