Unnamed Islays
Port Askig 28yo & Blackadder Raw Cask | 58.7% & 45.8% ABV
Why all the secrecy?
I can comfortably predict the vast majority of readers scanning this article with, say, more than a dozen bottles from Islay, have at least one which reads “Unnamed Islay”, “Secret Islay distillery” or words to a similar effect. It’s becoming incrementally more common these days.
Well enough of that. Why the attitude? At the end of the day, surely it’s only the whisky in the glass that should matter, right? After all, a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
Well, no. The zeitgeist continues to shift ever further toward transparency, honesty and communication with the enthusiast drinker. There are arguments to be had around the use of age statements given the specific rules imposed by the SWA and similar powers that be - just ask John Glaser - though the preference remains universally with such declarations where feasible. But the restriction of such base information as where the whisky has originated? That takes gall. Of course, such lack of transparency isn’t just limited to whisky from Islay, nor are similar transgressions uncommon in various other drinks industries.
For instance, here in Australia there’s a long-standing law that means a wine producer must only declare the use of grape varieties in a wine up to 85% of the wine’s composition.
For instance, if one were to hypothetically make a Grenache/Shiraz/Mataro blend using 40% Grenache, 30% Shiraz, 25% Mataro and 5% Riesling, the label could simply declare the first three grapes (ie a typical GSM) without mentioning the Riesling at all. Same goes for a wine labelled simply as a Shiraz, which may only be 86% Shiraz and 14% Viognier- aromatic white varieties such as Riesling and Viognier are commonly used to “give lift” and acid adjustment to heavier red varieties, though very few disclaim as much on their labels. Why is this allowed?
Well, many in the wine industry would say it gives winemakers a degree of creativity and flexibility in their winemaking, allowing them to adjust for provenance derived variables in the fruit. No matter what spin is put on it though, the outcome is the same- vital information regarding what a consumer drinks is withheld. Please indulge me as I linger on this topic for a spell, given it’s something I feel quite strongly about and has a number of parallels with the whisky industry.
So, why is this tolerated by the Australian government? In my purely personal opinion, it’s for the same reasons as consumer censorship anywhere; industry lobbying. At the first sign of inconvenience, members of lobby groups essentially hold the government to ransom with leverage regarding taxable revenue, offshore trade and industry employment rates. Considering that Treasury Wine Estates alone saw over $2.5 billion AUD in revenue last year, the government doesn’t take this lightly. Lobbying in Australia is the reason that wine operates under the WET system rather than paying excise, and it’s also the reason that while beer and spirits must be labelled with ABV listed accurately to within plus/minus 0.1%, wine enjoys a staggering 1.5% ABV buffer.
This isn’t because it’s harder for winemakers to test ABV by the way, rather it’s a stunningly gross display of favouritism. If any of you have had a bold, full-bodied and fruit-driven red from the Barossa Valley or Coonawarra labelled at 15.5% ABV, there’s a good chance it’s really more like 16.5-17% ABV. These rules mean the tax paid per litre of absolute alcohol (LAA) of what Australians affectionately call “goon sack” (cask wine in a cardboard box) is well below the rate of other beverages. How far below? Let’s have a look.
Say a 4L goon sack of wine is listed as 12.5% ABV and sits on shelf for $15 AUD. The wholesale price before any tax applied is probably in the order of $9, which means the WET paid is $2.61 for 4L of 12.5% ABV liquid, which is the equivalent of 0.5 LAA. This gives us a total tax rate of $5.22/LAA. If the winery that made the goon sack took advantage of the ABV leeway and the wine is actually 13.5% this brings the figure down to $4.83/LAA. To get some perspective, beers over 3.5% ABV sold in bottles or cans incur an excise rate of $57.79/LAA, and Australian distilled spirits incur $97.90/LAA.
The exceptions to this spirits rate are, naturally, also geared to favour the wine industry; brandy has a lower rate at $91.43/LAA and any spirit distilled for use as a fortifying agent in fortified wines (apera, tawny etc) is free. WET will apply to the finished product, but no excise is paid.
So, one guess for which of the drinks categories contribute the most damage to at-risk/vulnerable groups in Australia? Yep. Ask any retail liquor worker in the country, because we see it almost every day. We see the customers who are unwell, whose lives have run afoul of stress, mental health problems, unmanageable economic pressures and addiction issues. Seeing people dig themselves an ever deeper hole, looking for any way to escape lucidity.
Well, it’s the closest I’ve ever come to leaving the drinks industry. I have a track record here on Dramface of being hard on wine compared to grain beverages, and that encompasses many arguments and personal preferences, the vast majority of which are based in organoleptics. At least part of my view, though, is founded in the damage I’ve seen it do to people’s lives.
All in the name of profit, all because of what lobbying has achieved. I’m not trying to lay the blame for alcoholism in Australia at the feet of the wine industry- far from it. There are a plethora of issues we need to tackle societally, not least of all including our healthcare, social support structures, economic grievances and alcohol education. I don’t even believe in sin taxes to begin with; my perspective is simply that if a government is going to impose sin taxes on their population, they should at least be evenly applied.
I do believe this is a whisky review and not an attack on government regulations and the domestic wine industry, so let’s get back to lobbying and secrecy in whisky.
It should therefore be asked; why might it impact distilleries and their owners for independent bottlers to name the source of the whiskies they bottle? Well there are a number of reasons, the most pertinent being;
The distillate sold to independent bottlers doesn’t fit the expected distillery character, thus they want to distance themselves from the product.
The distillery doesn’t trust a given independent bottler to handle their stock well (again, not a good representation of the distillery) and will thus only sell it with a NDA.
The distillery doesn’t want to dilute the value of the brand.
Of course, these sentiments ignore the invaluable work that independent bottlers have done over decades now to establish the reputation of a range of distilleries. I’m nowhere near qualified to explain such things, but the topic is covered in David Stirk’s book Independent Scotch.
There’s another scenario too; it may be that an indie bottler is allowed to disclaim the source distillery but chooses not to. This might also be done for a handful of reasons, the most obvious of which being that the distillate in the bottle holds less market value than a similar profile from another distillery in the same region. Outside of Islay this is probably most commonly seen with “Secret Highland” bottlings; given the vast number of distilleries in the region, almost any profile could have multiple sources.
Usually though, bottlers tend to give drinkers some idea of what’s in the bottle through subtle hints on the label and/or hints which limit the number of possibilities. Clynelish bottlings are famous for such shenanigans these days; almost anything referencing a Northern Highland distillery, usually with some kind of cat on the label, is a safe assumption.
At the end of the day, it’s my opinion that distilleries and their owners mandating the secrecy of bottlings from independent bottlers is just another form of disingenuous corporate cloak-and-dagger. It’s meant to fluff their nests at the drinkers’ expense. If an IB whisky distilled by a given distillery is different from the official releases, that should be celebrated for adding diversity and nuance to the category. Hiding its source is, frankly, cowardly.
On that cheerful note shall we see what’s going on with these bottlings?
Review 1/2
Blackadder Raw Cask Peat Reek, 10yo, 20ppm, bottled 2021, 58.7% ABV
AUD$190 paid, $225 RRP
Even without tasting the whisky I have a pretty fair idea of what’s going on. Fairly recent distillate with enough production to supply independent bottlers, and a distillate which was produced from malt peated to 20 ppm. Well, really there’s only one option - Bowmore. Of course it’s somewhat possible that a cask of whisky was filled using faulty distillate from another distillery which accidentally used malt at 20 ppm, or indeed that the bottler is simply lying to make customers draw the same conclusions we are now.
After all, it’s a well-established rumour that Blackadder adds bits of barrel char to the whisky prior to bottling to evenly maintain even levels of sediment across a bottling run. There’s also an outside possibility this is distillate from Kilchoman which was destined for their 100% Islay series, but for some reason was deemed unsuitable and went to the indies rather than be redistilled.
I find these unlikely however, and hopefully the tasting notes below highlight that.
Nose
Bold, spirit forward as we might expect for the age with a slight new make implied sweetness. Starts with strong herbal tones, particularly rosemary and thyme bathed in lemon juice and various citrus oils (extremely terpenic) plus some almost perfumed florals, moderate deep heat cream and a light medicinal twinge. Rather apothecary. Opens further with barley sugar, vanilla and mild coconut milk. Water lifts the terpenes with some added pink peppercorn and restricts the youthful notes slightly.
Palate
Still some youth with a slight butter menthol plus pear drop feel, but globally this is becoming mature; greater swathes of herbal terpenes with medium orchard fruits, then a chargrill and chimney style peat smoke through the finish. At this age and strength some water is particularly recommended. Dilution expands the fruitiness and restricts some of the youthfulness, meanwhile the peat picks up a medicinal and citric dimension while the terpenes become borderline botanical.
The Dregs
A good lean but fun bottling. Given this dram completely blind, I’m not sure I’d guess Bowmore- the combination of youth, surprisingly punchy phenolics (for the ppm rating at least) and terpenic notes could all be from a handful of distilleries. The juice is good, but I’d be happier if we could celebrate it knowing the origin.
Better again without the cask char.
Score: 6/10
Review 2/2
Port Askaig 28yo, 45.8% ABV
AUD$450 paid, $550 RRP
Allegedly this release is from a batch of casks that even the people at Elixir didn’t receive provenance for. Whether that’s true or meant to deflect questions and accentuate the smoke and mirrors of the whole thing is well beyond me. That said, I’ve had an inside word from those in the know that it’s probably a peated Bunnahabhain. If so, I’ve never tasted anything from a similar era from the distillery, let alone in a peated style. It’s a particular shame this is undisclosed, since if it were a Bunnahabhain, I could add the style to my lexicon of distillate profiles. Ah well, let’s drink it anyway.
Nose
Dirty; there’s a distillate organosulfur tone that flits between vegetal peat, hair burning in straighteners and pickled onion a la Highland Park, all revolving around a slightly fusty pedal note. The peat is still surprisingly vivacious for the age with a great coastal leaness, specifically shellfish, smoked salmon and rock pools at low tide, medicinal and slightly farmy cresols, potting mix, a nice ashy smokiness and tinges of yuzu peel. Some fruits fight to be heard with suggestions of mango and passionfruit while the casks remain as politely distant silhouettes.
Palate
Holy mercaptans, Batman - one could be forgiven for thinking this a Longrow or similar. More burnt hair, more vegetal tones, a slight yeastiness and certainly some sulfur fishmonger action. The benefit here though is this is all kept in check by a beautiful melange of tertiary fruit-and-peat notes; grilled pineapple, mango, passionfruit, grapefruit and yuzu citruses, smouldering compost, more cresols with a coal tar bend and an impeccable coastal smokiness. The finish carries through just trace oak tones and a pleasing sense of fresh grist. Water is optional I think; the fruits and sulfur come out slightly more while the peat steps back a bit. Personally, I prefer the bottle strength.
The Dregs
A hell of a bottling, and though the price is still reflective of the current whisky climate, it doesn’t sting too badly for the age and quality. If this is a Caol Ila like so many other undisclosed Islays, then indeed it’s got a similar dirtiness to the other early 90s bottlings I’ve had. If it’s a Bunnahabhain, then it’s completely unlike anything I’ve had to date.
Score: 8/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. TK
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