Rioja Finish NAS O.B. | 46.3% ABV

Score: 5/10

**Average. In a good way.**
***TL;DR***
*A bitter, less robust 10, but that’s not a bad thing*

Upsell this, I dare you.

Tobermory is a small place and most people who visit the town will walk along the main street beside the iconic, multi-coloured facades, and consider that the entirety of Tobermory. There are houses arranged up on the hill, bed and breakfasts, hotels and a few businesses, but the majority of interesting stuff is crammed into this one thin strip between a towering cliff face and the Sound of Mull.

We visit Tobermory every year as part of our pilgrimage to the Ardnamurchan peninsula - we travel over the moors to Lochaline, catch the short-hop ferry over to Fishnish and then journey the 25 minutes or so to this wee place. The reasons for visiting are the same every year - just because. We’ll walk down the same street with more or less the same shops, pubs and cafes, and moan about either the rubbish weather or the lack of space in aforementioned pubs and cafes. It’s a tourist hotspot, that’s for sure.

In 2022, we visited Tobermory with a bit of side-quest thrown in. I wanted to see the distillery but I knew before going on our trip that the Tobermory distillery was shut down for maintenance. Still, it was worth just having a wander about in case that situation had changed by the time we arrived. Getting to the main street is quite dramatic, after the undulating trip over from Fishnish, the road down to the main street is very steep, winding downwards past the gable end of Tobermory distillery, stills gleaming through the large arched window. We parked at the Mull Aquarium and walked towards the main drag - Mrs Crystal and child continuing onwards to the shops, and Mr Crystal heading in to the distillery shop. It was busy so I aborted the mission and caught up with the family to see if we could get ourselves in somewhere for lunch.

No dice - too busy there as well. We ended up back at the aquarium at the end of town and in a decent burger place. After lunch the family headed back to the shops and once again I headed for the Tobermory house of dreams, this time empty and available for a Dougie Crystal entrance. I was door-stepped by a lovely woman who greeted me and asked if I would like a hand with anything. I mentioned I was just there for a look and that I was quite familiar with the distillery. She said, and I still find this a bit strange to this day: “Oh really? How so?” I told her that I’d had a few bottles of Tobermory 12, a Ledaig 10 and had looked at quite a lot of their whisky online. “Ah”, she said. “I’ll leave you to it - are you driving?” I was indeed driving, but that didn’t stop her shouting over to the chap behind the desk to get some samples ready.

I looked at two bottles on the shelf before I was asked if I had something I wanted to see in particular. I was interested in the 10 year old to replace the one I had at home and I was told: “Really? The 18 is far more complex and delicious, would you like a try?” I thanked him but once again reiterated that I was driving, but also that I was interested in the 10. Still he rebuffed that suggestion, with more chat about the delightfulness, complexity and depth of the 18 year old spirit. It went like that for a while before I asked him how much it was. “£90,” he said. Trying not to wince because I had a budget of £40 to play with, I asked about the 10 once again. Instead he pointed to the distillery exclusives - £135 and upwards.

Frustrated, I thanked him and left. My wife, upon seeing my sullen face, asked what was up. I relayed my upset about the relentless upselling of things that I just wasn’t interested in. “That’s odd,” she said, and I agreed. We went back to our holiday home, via the Fishnish ferry, the Morvern moors and the stillness of Strontian. All the way back I was thinking about how that was such a strange strategy to take, especially when the customer’s opening gambit is concerning the entry level whisky. Whether that’s the approach to capitalise on tourists who don’t know any better, or if they were just having a low week will remain unknown, but I’m not dramatising here - it was really that abrupt and odd.

After that, I felt a bit cold towards Tobermory and Ledaig. I’ve spoken a lot about how visiting the places that make whisky that you connect with crystallises your endearment of both the whisky and the distillery. It turns out that the opposite can happen if the experience is negative. I still enjoyed the Ledaig 10, but every time I see the black label I think of that experience at the shop. I think of the relentless pursuit to relieve me of triple what I wanted to spend.

My bottle of Ledaig 10 - opened 12 years ago and still with 600ml in the bottle (father-in-law not enjoying it) - has started to get very low, so I decided to see what the going rate for a new bottle would be. However, another bottle caught my eye and I wondered if it might be worth investigating that instead. I’m all for replenishing stock, but I’m more interested in new experiences and so, without much more thought, I clicked a few buttons and a bottle of Ledaig Sinclair Series Rioja Cask Finish was on its way from Casa Del Bezos. I would usually have visited the local shop to buy, but seeing the £33 price launched the tight fist of Scottish heritage before I could reel it back in.

Review

Ledaig Sinclair Series Rioja Finish, 46.3% ABV
£33 paid.

The bottle arrived the next day and I took some photos in the office - it’s a fantastic space to get some primo refractions - and was really pleased to see such a beautiful colour of whisky inside the glass. It’s got a blush to it, a pink hue that might or might not be subliminal given the nice salmon coloured foiling and red detailing on the box and label. But getting it home to sit alongside a “normal” bottle of whisky, I can confirm it does have a pinkish tint. The design of the Ledaig bottle is nice - I love the debossed glass with the big “1798” above the label, and the “Isle of Mull” below. The label itself is black with white writing and red highlights, and looks smashing.

Having posted the images from the office on Instagram, the feedback was balanced. Some said it wasn’t as good as the 10 year old, others said they preferred the Sinclair, owing to its further complexity. I’m not sure what to expect because peated whisky isn’t my go-to whisky. It’s a mood dram for me, if I’m needing a bit of face melting or if the preceding evening featured some heat or funk - a decent homemade curry or cheese and crackers being the best lay-up for peated whisky. I guess it’s time to find out.

Nose

Salty with sweet smoke - a crisp cold street at midnight. Mineral with banana chips and grey moulding clay. The smoke dissipates and there’s bright orange citrus. Aquatonic. A farm note and the new-make character begins to appear. A really interesting ultra sweet wave of matches and matchbox.

Palate

Light start - quite even keeled. There’s a bit of oak and peat - earthy and slightly vegetal. A small sour edge with simple syrup. Spice, Plasticine and tropical concentrate. The new-make farm character appears on the palate too. Really tasty.

A week later - first sip is chlorinated water, grapefruit, sweet kiwi fruit and there’s a vegetal note.

The Dregs

The youthfulness of a whisky - that “new-make spirit” note, is something I often identify as a standout in a dram because I love young whisky. This is one of the rarer times a new-make note has appeared only after a long while, almost as a surprise. I’ve been told the Sinclair has very young whisky in there, but you’d be hard pushed to immediately identify it.

The Ledaig Sinclair is not the Ledaig 10 lite. It’s a lot more bitter. It has a lot more presence of sooty smoke rather than the luxurious tropical sweet smoke of the 10. I tried the two alongside each other and found an incredibly bright pineapple flavour in the 10 that, when returning to the Sinclair’s more bitter palate, was left disappointed. This tart, sharp and ashy and one of the more ash-forward experiences I’ve had in peat land. Despite this, the Sinclair always seems to pitch it back around at the death - just when you think that it’s all just too bitter, it throws a sweetie at you, attached to the end of an oily rope.

That isn’t to say it’s deft in its manoeuvres. It’s a fairly evenly spread blast of the more bitter-edged fruits - grapefruit, orange pith and almost a lemon zest spritz. The finish is long enough that I’m still tasting the echos of that sooty peat, but with the ghost of a boiled sweet around the periphery.

I’m not sure what to make of it all given the price isn’t that much less than the 10 (when not on offer) and finding so much more engagement in the aged sibling. I do enjoy the more cutting nature of this Sinclair, and it certainly doesn’t shy away from bolder flavours, but those flavours take time to access and patience is key, I think. But with patience also comes the youth, the new-make and subtle saccharine roundhouse tricking you into another sip. More tartness is found.

Peat isn’t my jam, but if I was to choose a smoker I’d opt for the 10 most times, if it was a toss up between the two “entry” Ledaig’s. If you have access to a Tesco Clubcard, the Lagavulin 8 and all that sumptuous, silky magnificence would be my pick every time; it floats around the same price as both the Sinclair and the 10 too, when on offer. In summary, the Sinclair is a nice dram, but you can see why people are drawn to the £5 more expensive 10 year old. If you fancy a more edgy, visceral experience for not a lot of money, this is your choice. If you want a bit more meat on the peaty bones as well as a bit more complexity and deftness, the 10yo is your pick.

Score: 5/10 DC

Drummond’s Review

Ledaig Sinclair Series Rioja Finish, 46.3% ABV
£33 paid.

Being a huge fan of the Ledaig 10, I followed in Dougie’s steps when seeing this online for £33.

Even though it’s a non-age statement bottle, I probably would have taken a punt on this even before trying it. I had, however, had a dram of it in my local pub a couple of months ago and enjoyed it well enough that I scribbled a mental sticky note and slapped it on my mind’s forehead to remember to pick it up, if the price was right. This price was definitely right.

I agree with Dougie that this is not Ledaig 10 lite. This is a different beast. It’s younger, it’s a bit spirity and the layers of complexity you get with the 10 aren’t really here. That’s not to say it has no complexity, as it certainly does have pleasant and interesting notes and textures. There is definitely enjoyment to be had. Having tried several indie Ledaigs over the past couple of years, I find myself enjoying them when and wherever I encounter them. Most, as I recall, have been from ex-bourbon casks, so I believe this is my first Ledaig from a wine cask.

Nose

Sticky sweet smoke and red-tinged slightly sour wine notes. There’s a light citrus somewhere in the background. Faint cinnamon. A bit young and spirity, but not in a bad way.

Palate

Sweet, ashy, red grapes, stewed raspberries, light wood char. The ropey tar notes that are so prominent in the 10 year old are here, but here they’re found in the background behind the wine sweetness. The palate is perhaps slightly thinner than I was expecting from the un-chill filtered 46.3% ABV. There’s a good overall balance between the wine and the distillate, even if I might prefer a tiny bit more of that distinct spirit coming through. Nicely enjoyable overall.

The Dregs

I like this. For me, the smell and taste sensations I get with the price I paid is a great value experience. For a score, in my head I’m around a 5.5, so I’ll bump it up to a 6. In our scoring, a 6 is “priced fairly . . . and encouraged as a solid purchase in these heady times.” That sums up this bottle well for me.

It’s not the 10yo, but it’s still good and enjoyable. And in 2023 when prices everywhere are skyrocketing faster than you can say “Diageo Special Releases” – both for inflationary reasons, but also companies (and many indies) pushing the envelope to see what they can get away with – this stands out as a good choice for a very reasonable price.

Score: 6/10 DD

Gilbert’s Review

Ledaig Sinclair Series Rioja Finish, 46.3% ABV
£33 paid.

Nose

My nostrils were instantly attacked by a dense, thick and slightly plastic forward note which may not be to a connoisseur's liking, but I personally revel in it. As a man who once spent more than £11 on a bottle of red wine, I think it is fair to say I know my way around a grape. The peat punches its fist through the musty cloud leaving a sweet smell of redcurrant jam in the rain. The berry laced smoke gloriously hangs around even when the glass is empty.

Palate

Surprisingly thin on the first swish leaving a mild TCP tang on the tongue. Fortunately each further sip brings a little something extra to the party from burnt marzipan to salted pork chops. While it certainly brings a variety of associations in the mind, none really squeeze the taste buds hostage. The finish ends on a high with a savoury vegetal smoke: think of putting a cabbage patch fire out with a jar of Marmite. That last one is a positive in my book.

The Dregs

This bottle certainly has got personality and the Rioja steers it away from the standard 10yo into much sweeter seas. I imagine this could be a bottle that divides the crowd and I’m pleased to have grabbed this bottle on offer and would be happy to have it come aboard my ship again. For me the biggest pet peeve is it has the cheek to be part of a series with no other bottles on the horizon.

Score: 7/10 GG

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

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