Sherry Cask Finish | 55% ABV

Score: 7/10

**Very Good Indeed.**
***TL;DR***
*Alongside some big hitters, this wee Lagg delivers in spades.*

Catharsis and Reassurance.

The realities of moving house are setting in quickly. Now that we’re officially moving, and in a not inconsequential three weeks time, the requirement to get things arranged, packed and ready to go is suddenly a priority.

Alongside the drawer of myriad cables and chargers that have long since been of use, old phones, used printer cartridges, dead batteries, lightbulbs and pencils, there are a lot of other things to consider if they’re coming with us or going to charity, the dump or willing pals and family.

There’s an extra air of ruthlessness abound because, owing to the 220 miles between this house and our new house on the Isle of Skye, and that we’re employing a moving company to deal with getting all our stuff up there, every sealed box costs us money. Those haggard sneakers that fit my feet just right, despite having a hole in the sole - gone. The spare printer cable with the fat square connector that I already have one of, but i'm holding another just in case - gone. All those glasses and copitas and fake Glencairns - gone (to the reuse container at the local recycling centre). It’s not long before my wife’s beady eyeballs swivel towards the illuminated supershelves and auld Doog starts to sweat.

You know, she’s not wrong when she states that a lot of them are almost empty, and also not wrong that it seems a bit inefficient to be paying to have these almost empty glass vessels moved from this place to the next where they will continue to sit, almost empty, until I’ve forgotten what those bottles tasted like and reach for a wee dram. I start to count them all up but realise that a lot of this whisky I’ve sort of finished with anyway - Aberlour Triple Cask isn’t worth the paper label that wraps desperately around the utter mince that sloshes around inside that beautiful bottle. Why would I take that with me? A crime punishable by death was perpetrated initially when it was released for fifty smackeroonies to unsuspecting victims in the UK, and I would be complicit in that crime by paying someone else to transport it further north, where it would forever sit, guiltily, in my garage.

I decided quickly, so that I wouldn't back out, to donate a lot of these bottles to my pal who is just getting into whisky. I warned him about the Aberlour, but offset that awkwardness by also giving him a load of other, better things. Aberlour’s Casg Annamh, for example. A bottle of Glendronach 12, Blair Athol 12, an unopened Kingsbarns Bell Rock, the Shackleton that I should’ve held onto for a split second longer, and many others that, despite me enjoying them, feel like he’d get far more enjoyment out of trying them for the first time. Off I went with a box full of whisky and, as I handed the drooping box over the threshold of his new house felt a lightness wash down upon me - a cleansing.

It was probably just the sight of the Aberlour Triple Cask leaving my sphere of influence which lifted the load, but when I returned home there was a visible dent in the collection. My attention then turned to the many bottles of Ardnamurchan core range that have sat for a long time, very slowly decreasing in volume, as I only take a pour once every so often. Does it make sense to transport five bottles of core range which all seem fairly consistent in presentation, when I could instead transport two? I’ve already created a number of Ardnamurchan Superblends, using not just core range stuff but the whole array of Ardnamurchan in my collection - with some exceptional results by the way. It didn’t take a leap of logic to start decanting the neighbouring core releases into each other, creating two core range blends. I then gave one to my pal, who had never tried Ardnamurchan before, and later that evening got a text to say it’s the best whisky he’s ever tried.

This feels amazing! There’s something satisfying about an empty whisky bottle in the context of the space it would have taken up in a chargeable shipping box, and so now, after all the exodus of untouched-for-a-while bottles to my pal, and the Ardna blends, I turned my attention to the bottles that were at most 1/8th full, and got drinking. I figured if I tackled one near-empty bottle per week (maybe two if they’re even lower) then I could probably half the amount of bottles I needed to wrap and ship. While I’m at it, I may as well reminisce about them, seeing as I’d spent a good deal of time acquiring them.

Well after four weeks of doing this I found that, not only did I fail to take any notes during the decanting of heels into my face, but a lot of them I just enjoyed for the sake of enjoyment, without trying to pick them apart. It’s been a catharsis, a slow shedding skin of previous life, making way for renewal. This move to Skye seems to be taking on a lot more importance than just moving 220 miles north, it’s becoming a bit of a life-moment, a pivot, a fork in the road. With this realisation a cold sweat develops and I’m suddenly ill at ease. Something feels off. Doubt creeps in. Is this the right move? Are we making a horrible mistake that will forever be seen as the culprit for why our lives are awful?

To assuage my conscience and try to get a bit of perspective I arranged to meet my uncle, of sail boat Campbeltown Whisky Dash 2022/23 fame, at his local pub for a chinwag and some drams. This pub isn’t just any old pub though, it’s an incredible place filled with over 700 whiskies (at last count) to choose from, is quiet most of the day and has a really relaxing ambience about it. I’ve grown up around pubs in and around central Fife, where heads swivel to the creaking door to see who has dared enter this hallowed space, with mutterings of “what do you want?” ringing out around the saturated regulars. This pub, the Athletic Arms in the west end of Edinburgh, is nothing like that.

Affectionately known as “Diggers”, on account of the pub being right next door to two graveyards and the influx of gravediggers after a shift, this pub is welcoming to everyone and is captained by a whisky enthusiast called Kevin. He was behind the bar today as I arrived through the dense muggy climes of a late-summer morning, meeting my uncle at the door and heading into the slightly cooler, breezier interior. Hydration and sustenance is always the key when heading into a session, so a pint of water and two delicious macaroni pies got the ball rolling.

*Some of Digger’s extensive library of whisky - over 700 at last count. Image courtesy of Uncle. Shot using a potato.*

Being faced with 700 whiskies from every region in Scotland, and further afield, of all ages and cask types, is something that can easily cause overload - where do you start? Diggers is my uncle’s local and is used to this selection blindness, so suggested that we form a plan of attack. He decided to start at the lowlands and work northwards over the mainland. I decided to start at the lowlands and then island jump, in celebration of moving to one of those islands.

Annandale was our choice for the Lowlands - one of Cadenhead’s 8yo Authentic Collections. It was pretty good stuff. From there Unc went to Kingsbarns and their latest Doocot. I hopped on a ferry and travelled over the Firth of Clyde to the Isle of Arran, and more specifically the southern tip where their newest distillery pumps out peated beverages under the name “Lagg”.

I’ve not yet tried Lagg until this moment, and despite wanting to try the 2022 Batch 3 release matured in ex-oloroso sherry casks so loved by oor Wally, they didn’t have that particular bottle on the shelves. A testament to its popularity, Kevin said. They had the 2022 Batch 1 ex-bourbon cask, and 2022 Batch 2 ex-red wine charred cask, but I fancied something sherry based owing to my love of young spirits in sherry casks. Kevin thought for a split second and said “actually, I’ve got the new one downstairs if you want to try that?”.

Off he went, opening a hatch in the floor and disappearing for a moment before reappearing with a square white box. “This is their new Corriecravie Edition and I’ve not tried it yet.” Off came the seal and a dram was diligently poured into my waiting copita. What struck me was both how un-ergonomic that stopper is and, if you have excessively weak grip strength, how much of a burden it might be, but also the colour of the whisky inside. It wasn’t dark red. It was dark brown. Given our expectations with whisky colours, and in the case of ex-sherry casks the assumption that it’ll have some form of redness to it, this complete brown-ness was surprising. I don’t think I’ve seen a brown whisky yet.

Over the course of the day we would continue on, alongside my uncle’s pal who arrived a wee while after we did, and chart our own paths around the motherland. Uncle carried on through the lowlands via Lochlea, up to Deanston, through the Cairngorms to Speyside and Tamdhu and piddled about the Highlands for the remainder. I stayed on Arran for the Port Cask from Lochranza, then completely bypassed Islay for what will become my home island (!) of Skye, where I tried for the first time Torrabhaig’s Legacy Allt Glean, before abandoning my island hopping in favour of an older bottled Benromach UK Exclusive, which was wonderful. I desperately need to mine more Benromach.

But it was the Lagg that I kept coming back to between each hop - there was something about that heavily peated Lagg spirit in that generically stated “Sherry Cask Finish” that made me swoon. It’s been matured in bourbon for the majority of its 4(?) years, with 6 months in ex-oloroso casks at the end. It even got my uncle’s pal swooning, and by all accounts he only has eyes for Laphroaig. By the end of play we’d taken 1/3rd of that bottle away from the bar via our faceholes and, as we parted ways with Diggers, made an unscheduled stop for a dram or two at The Caley Sample Room. Of course we got chatting to the folk standing either side and all three of us were humbled. To our left stood a Colombian lady who spent her day relocating refugees and conflict displacement, out in the town celebrating her partner’s 40th birthday; a Masters student studying the impact of oil companies on global warming. To our right sat a teacher, cultivating and supporting deaf children with quality education, cradling her unfathomably fluffy dog. We were but three mugs with poor taste in shirts.

In the intervening days afterwards it was the Lagg that kept appearing in my withered frontal cortex. It seemed only fair that I give it a good look over, and so an order was placed from a dwindling purse with promise to make this the last purchase before I officially become an islander.

Review

Lagg Corriecravie Edition - Limited Yearly Release, 55% ABV
£65 and slowly fading availability.

The immediate observation, upon the bottle arriving, is that this whisky is actually quite red and beautiful to look at. It must have been the strange light in Diggers, or the interior colours that made it look dull brown in colour. Nevertheless, the green recycled glass does give it a weird shift towards being a bit dull and “off”. In the clear glass of my copita, the full richness of colour comes to bear.

My biggest bugbear with the design of the Lagg bottle was the stopper - a smooth hemisphere of light wood with zero texture or grip. I thought it silly, an ergonomic nightmare, and maybe a bit boring. They’ve gone to such trouble with the dumpy wee beautiful bottle, a gentle swishing line working its way around the glass, monochrome textured labels and the aforementioned green glass, that to have nothing, not even an etch on the stopper takes away slightly from the overall effort. In use there’s plenty of grip and the stopper comes off with a triumphant “pop”. Still, a wee etch or something around the flat of the bullet tip would make all the difference. It’s irrelevant anyway if the whisky inside leaves one wanting.

Nose

Mint, fresh natural yoghurt, sweet, earthy, farmy, coastal, bready notes - light toast. Smoke - wee bit ashy that transforms to cola. Old cigarette packet. Red liquorice twists inside a cedar box. PVA glue. Brick paints. Wet grass. Coastal rocks.

2nd pour - sweet spices off the bat. The continuation of the bright, vibrancy of youth but still, no burn, no heat. Just smoothly sweet spiced redness.

Palate

Peaty, weighty. Youth is very well integrated, very little farm up front. Burgers on the wind. Meaty. Very little heat. Great balance. Sweet, salty, souring finish. Sweet barbeque smoke, delicious. The red liquorice twists appear on the palate, as do the spices - cinnamon, sweet ginger and maybe even a wee bit of turmeric!

I think it stands perfectly at its 55% ABV. Reducing with water opens up the new-make brightness, reducing the redness. I far prefer it at bottled strength.

The Dregs

In between packing boxes, dismantling garages, driving to Skye to introduce Mini Crystal to her new school, and watching the Rugby World Cup, I’ve been continuing my valiant efforts to finish off heels of bottles. It’s weird how some things, totally unassociated things, can all resonate at the same frequency to create an overall sentiment. What I mean is, the packing of boxes and sealing them up is a really cathartic and slow-building feeling of reassurance - we’re getting there. Dismantling garages, with years worth of “just chuck it in the garage” objects - organising that is cathartic and reassuring, in that we’re not going to be lugging all this crap with us to the new place.

Driving to Skye for the school visit was incredible. It might be only a month since we were last there, but in that time so much happens - solicitors playing dafties, packing up memories, bank woes, moving companies, logistics, selling furniture, the upset and the behavioural shifts it causes in small people…doubt soon starts creeping in: are we doing the right thing? Within 30 seconds of passing Eilean Donan Castle and realising we were almost at the Skye Bridge, all the Crystals were buzzing. The school visit was perfect - Mini Crystal wasn’t just happy with the new digs, she was positively charged and wanted to get there asap. Portree was chock-a-block with tourists, supercars, motorcycles, cakes and ice cream. The sun was shining on the Old Man of Storr and we knew this is where we belong - reassuring us that it’ll all be ok.

Trekking through the heels of bottles means that this wee bottle of Lagg has been sampled alongside loads of things - Springbank cage and hand-fills, Kilkerran the same, Kingsbarns Distillery Reserve 2020, Ardnamurchan Hand-Fill, Tomatin Cask Strength, Annandale Man o’ Swords and many smaller samples from the generous folks around whiskyland, that I’d opened but not finished. Bruichladdich’s Black Art 06.1 26yo, for example. It’s been a cathartic experience, but reassuring too - that whisky in 2023 is in fine fettle. But more than that. Way more.

It’s reassuring that this little Lagg, the first of this new distillery that I’ve tried, stands tall alongside them. It’s impressive stuff, has complexity and depth beyond its 4 year age (I assume). It’s really well integrated for a higher ABV. The peat isn’t overpowering but rather compliments the other flavours. It’s an Autumnal dram at the very point that Autumn feels like it’s approaching - just enough freshness and ping to avoid being a “Christmas” dram, dark and rich and fruity. At £65 it’s not inexpensive, but for that you’re getting a 55% naturally presented whisky that sings with flavour. It has a defined character. It’s perhaps not as stop-in-your-tracks phenomenal as I’d hoped, but given that this is new whisky, that it’s one of the first releases from this wee distillery and that it’s so moreish means that, in my humble opinion, it is well worth your time and money.

Some have said this will be the next Ardnamurchan - a radar-defying low flying supersmasher that will capture the hearts of the exciters and create a buzzing undercurrent of celebration that will soon build into mainstream magnificence. So long as they keep their pricing in-line with Glenbeg’s approach to reasonable expectations, I can’t see any reason to disagree.

Score: 7/10

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

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