Macallan 12yo Sherry Oak
Official Bottling | 40% ABV
Taking one for the team.
This could be the easiest review ever written. Good whisky. 6/10. Job done. To say it’s anything other than good is throwing a huff.
I mean, what more is there to say? Because for the majority of the Dramface readership and, dare I say, the Dramface team, further verbosity would be redundant. We’re not interested in buying this.
This is fair and understandable. It’s simply not targeted towards us. The messaging and the presentation of the liquid as well as the packaging conveys that effectively. Should further convincing be required, the hilarious price hammers it home.
So why review it? Well, it’s whisky, we are Dramface, and in considering why things are so, there is more to say. Or, rather, guess.
What we have here is something that taps into a manifestation of human nature, a weird but natural aspiration to live well and enjoy rarified luxuries. Such a desire requires reassurance that something is of peerless quality, that it is the best, and can be guaranteed to be so. The price plays a huge factor in that sense of assurance.
In airport travel retail ‘experiences’ and whisky boutiques across the globe lurk those with the financial fluidity to not care about the cost. Upon seeing the price of this bottle alongside its peers, they are immediately reassured; this is the best.
There are those who drink whisky, and there are those who are wealthy and drink whisky. All fair enough.
But then there’s us.
We drink whisky and, provided we are wealthy enough to afford this indulgent and not inexpensive hobby, we study the hell out of it. For us, it’s a passion and we thrive on gathering experiences, sip by sip. We gather to excite our fervour further; sharing knowledge and bottles of all sizes and provenances. Our palates learn something in the very early days of exploration; there is no such thing as ‘best’. There is only ‘different’.
However, if we were to attempt to convince someone laser-focused on a bottle of Macallan that our recommendation of an alternative was every bit as good, and potentially in many ways better, we’d more than likely fail. There is a reason specialist retailers still stock Macallan despite the prices spiralling through the stratosphere and onwards to the ludicrousphere. There are people who need it to be Macallan.
But this is an inevitability.
“Oh you like whisky? What’s the best whisky?”
There had to be one brand or distillery that did this for scotch whisky; to be the aspirational pinnacle, perhaps what Rolex is for watches or Porsche is to the automotive world. When you think about it, what other distillery do you think could have the caché, scale, reputation, profile, tradition and aesthetic to pull it off? I’ve been all over and it’s difficult to imagine a better-placed nominee. Macallan had to do it. They had to take one for the team. To be reassuringly expensive.
They’ve done incredibly well in the last 40 years or so. They are wonderfully successful and they’re hardly red-faced about the amount of money they can generate after these decades of brand building. We should also shout out the impressive Robertson Trust which does great work supporting further education and social change in Scotland as well as tackling poverty and personal trauma. What we have in Edrington and especially in Macallan is a very successful business. A national role model, even. It is of little consequence to them that they are ignored, shunned or scoffed at by the swathes of whisky botherers like me, who are kept at bay by their flamboyant lily-gilding, contrived exclusivity and very deliberate product placement.
Yet, there’s no doubt they’ll be wary of threats on the horizon. Macallan are today, a product of fashion. This is a fickle and volatile position requiring much effort to maintain. There will always be risks and competitive strikes from other players, although so far they’ve been largely unaffected. If the closest rival they have is Dalmore, based on current offerings, they’ll hardly be quaking in their boots. Macallan’s biggest risk is therefore themselves. What if their targeting is so specific, it leaves no one actually speaking critically about their liquid?
You see, there are brands out there that have whisky know-it-alls like Wally excited beyond containment. Macallan must realise that the those-in-the-know, word-of-mouth recommendation they enjoyed back in the middle of the last century, the very foundation upon which they are built, is no longer there. The offering of today trades heavily on their reputation of old. It floats in mid-air, potentially at the crest of its arc of success. There will be a nervousness that at any time it may start to decay. Should they push just a little too hard they may witness its decline into something passé.
In the days of the internet where everyone may have their say, there are currently many likes, up-thumbs and up-votes for anything prettified by the Easter Elchies logo. Macallan is a popular brand, especially on platforms such as Instagram where impossibly perfect lifestyles are empowered by striking imagery. But scroll for a while and you’ll soon see Springbank, Ardnamurchan, Glen Scotia and many more pretenders building their reputations the same way Macallan once did; quality of liquid spread by word-of-mouth. Whisky botherers are also prone to photo-sharing and we are vocal indeed, especially when we find flavour and value along with that quality.
So how might Macallan assure us that they still make peerless liquid? How might they engage those who love to sip and asses whisky when their prices must remain, for most, reassuringly out of reach? That’s a tricky one.
They’ll still make sure the product is on that shelf in specialists and I quite fancy that there’s a lot of definitely-don’t-ever-tell-anyone-that’s-Macallan-wink-wink around the independent bottlings we’ve seen recently, but generally, what’s going to keep Macallan where it is? Continuing to pander to collectors, investors and the wealthy with evermore enshittified marketing and stories?
With the price increases continuing, it encourages other producers to climb that same ladder, and the need for differentiation through price will inevitably force the climb higher still; we either reach the top or snap a rung at some point.
Nor can they trade on scarcity and rarity forever, they are the third largest producer of malt whisky in Scotland. Do we suppose all of that is needed for The Famous Grouse? The exclusivity angle is becoming more and more at odds with their sheer scale and aspirations of growth.
Macallan’s precarious position also comes about because, unlike something that’s specialist or made to last forever, like a Rolex, or something that is appreciably hugely different and of higher-tier engineered quality from most other competing marques, such as a Porsche, Macallan is a consumable; a drink. A very tightly defined drink at that. They have to make it the pretty much the exact same way as everyone else; in order for it to be consumed.
As more and more of it becomes destined to remain sealed on collector’s shelves or investor’s lock-ups, perhaps it’s in their interest that, currently, there is little critique of the actual liquid.
Speaking for myself, it’s amazing that I even have a bottle on hand to review, but since I do, we shall. It’ll be judged the same way as any other whisky does when it finds its way into my glass. What is leading edge and peerless today is very often tomorrow’s also-ran. For us, Macallan doesn’t even feature in our daily whisky discourse. It is simply ignored. It has been sacrificed.
Review
Macallan 12yo, Sherry Oak, 2022 Bottling, 40% ABV
£90 widely available.
When I first earned my whisky wings, Macallan was still available in supermarkets. Originally the 10 year old, then the 12yo before the Fine Oaks and then the Gold expression from the rather messy 1824 Series. These NAS releases were a disaster for them. In a bizarre act of low-stock nonsense they fed Europe and Canada with these Gold, Amber, Sienna and Ruby releases while the USA and Asia kept the precious Sherry Oak age statements. Such an odd way to repay brand loyalty.
That was the first big signal that it was no longer for us. Even though the Sienna and Ruby were filled with lovely liquid, the lack of transparency, huge hike in price and clumsy messaging had even the most loyal fans scratching their heads. It cut deeply. Macallan cared little.
When my last official bottle of a Macallan was finally gone - a really terribly bland and sickly bottle of their Gold - I realised I was ambivalent about ever having a Macallan in the house again. With each new relaunch and sharpening of the styling and messaging, it moved further and further from my reach and therefore further off my radar. Ironically, with each revamp, each new evolution, it seemed to get stuffier. It was moving towards places where appearance mattered more than substance. I was glad it had gone. I had no emotion about it whatsoever.
Even when I heard the 18yo jumped to £250 a bottle in 2018 (it’s now £500) I simply shrugged. I mean, of course it is. There are maniacs in the world who willingly pay. It stills sells. Why wouldn’t they charge it? It also leaves a lot of room for the younger 12yo to stretch in price, which it duly has. This bottle of 40% 12yo malt in my hands today is £90. Farcical.
Although, I did buy it.
I appeal for forgiveness; I bought it for a very specific purpose. I needed it for a tasting where it was the subject of comparison. It failed, beaten by a £35 blend. Anyway, as touched upon, those who want to throw this kind of money at a standard bottle of whisky only want Macallan, they won't hear anything else and they’ll likely never read Dramface. So, what will they actually get?
Well, a surprisingly good whisky, truth be told. Ninety of your Sterlings worth? Absolutely not, but still, Macallan makes good liquid. Or at least, the original Macallan distillery did, which is a whole other topic.
Nose
The nose is rich, with a buttery and creamy toffee note and perhaps a little salted caramel. There are sweet figs, dates and chewy raisins, tinned mandarin segments and brown sugar. There’s a boldness to things too, cocoa powder, chocolate, malted Horlicks and all the while flickers of matchbox.
Palate
Given that this bottle is 40% ABV, the arrival is impressive. There’s a lusciousness that has to be remarked upon. Some oak tannins appear alongside the dried and sweet fruit notes and a little soft baking spice before it fades to a saccharin sweet medium finish.
All in all a decent sip, if a little flat, plain and straightforward. Certainly smooth, easy and there is a sense of decadence. It is however, in desperate need of detail and vibrance. A hike in ABV would do wonders. While it’s natural colour, it’s been chill-filtered and it’s sad considering how thick and chewy this could actually be if it had been left alone; not what their market wants though.
The Dregs
This whisky isn’t aimed at me and that’s fine. I think the more remarkable thing here is, despite me appreciating the liquid is actually pretty good, I didn’t desire a second pour. It feels stuffy and distant and this bottle is an oddity in my home collection, it’s as if it’s someone else’s bottle. It doesn’t belong.
It should be marked down due to its ridiculous price, but I do feel it’s appreciably better than ‘average’ in our scoring system. So I’ll roll with a 6/10 and take hits in the comments.
I can objectively admire the luxury styling and feel of the bottle, take pleasure from small sips of bland yet pretty decent liquid, but ultimately feel nothing. It leaves me ambivalent. It’s just whisky. Whisky that’s been sacrificed to maintain a position.
Score: 6/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. WMc