Isle of Raasay R-01.1
Official Bottling | 46.4% ABV
Score: 6/10
Good stuff.
TL;DR
A very interesting, competent, enjoyably youthful whisky
Being late to the party isn’t always a bad thing.
I think I’ve transitioned into a new phase in my whisky journey, one that’s a result of maturation, saturation and the rising cost of everything. I think, technically, I’m converging.
When I was in the white-hot heat of acquisition phase, there were many new releases around from many new distilleries. If you look at all the distilleries that have started releasing whisky in the past few years, you’d be forgiven for throwing the towel in, having tried to keep up with them all.
One of the distilleries that launched its first whisky in this timeframe (as stipulated by the SWA, after three years of maturation) was Isle of Raasay. I didn’t bite, which is something I’m immensely proud of, given I was chomping every single fly that was cast into the whisky loch without prejudice.
Don’t get me wrong, I had it in my basket many times, and I’m not too embarrassed to say that every time I did put it in the basket was solely because I wanted to photograph the bottle. Then I’d realise my motives and remove it promptly, replacing it with something less aesthetically interesting that I actually wanted to open and taste, rather than photograph. Raasay has also been one of the higher priced whiskies from new distilleries, which put me off a wee bit. I’d chomped down Lindores and thought it good. I’d swigged on Clydeside and found it decent. Lochlea — very good. Ardnamurchan — you know how I feel about that. Yet Raasay always seemed a bit too rich for my pocket, which is ludicrous because I’ve been buying whiskies well above the price of the Raasay R-01 for ages. What was it about this distillery that was preventing me from getting a bottle?
I wonder now, looking back, if I was saturated with chasing newly released whiskies and was looking towards more mature propositions? At the point of the Raasay inaugural coming onto the market, at a not inconsequential £90, I’d tried enough of the seemingly uniform smell and taste profile of most new whisky and failed to see the rationale behind this high launch price, despite knowing full well that new distilleries need to recoup the massive outlay needed to create a distillery in the first place as quickly as possible — it’s why a lot of new distilleries release gin, new-make and other things besides whisky to try and bridge the gap to when the official whisky comes of age. Raasay instead released an NAS whisky series called “While We Wait” in five instalments, bridging their own gap to launching the official Raasay Single Malt.
So why now? What made me want to try it after all this time? Well, a number of things. First is wanting to photograph that bottle. Second is that Raasay is now several releases down, meaning there’s more Raasay around and less frantic bottle grabbing. They’re still incredibly sought after, but it’s more the single cask releases that are being snatched: a week before I bought my bottle, Raasay released a number of single cask expressions all at the same time for around £90 a pop, and all of them besides the Rye Cask had disappeared within the hour.
“There are so many refractions going on that it’s difficult to get a bad photograph, but place a light source at the right spot and the bottle explodes into life, appearing to be ablaze.”
Third is that I wanted to try the whisky. It’s been a little while since I’ve tried a new, young whisky and, with The English Original doing better than I thought, as well as my love of the Bimber Abbey Exclusive and my reduction in buying whisky lately, I thought it the right time to give Raasay at try. Given everything is going upwards in price, from eggs to private jet flights, I figured it was about time to get a bottle of this — before it gets even more expensive. I could’ve bought it online, but I really enjoy visiting Steve at Malts & Spirits in Perth now, so I headed northwards to pick up a bottle of Raasay, whatever release it happened to be.
Raasay has released four “signature malts” now, two in 2021 and two in 2022, named R-01, R-02, R-01.1 and R-02.1 respectively. I assume that the naming convention will continue in this manner, with 2023’s releases being R-01.2 and R-02.2 respectively? Who knows, but the complicated numeral plus decimal place naming structure is something that Ardnamurchan started, and have since ceased, owing to the highly confusing nature of it all. Shame, because I’d just managed to get to grips with it!
Review
Isle of Raasay R-01.1, Official Release, 46.4% ABV
£48 - £55 and plentiful
My bottle is release R-01.1, which makes it the May 2022 expression, and is made up of both peated and unpeated malt casked in three types of wood: rye whiskey, Chinkapin Oak and a Bordeaux red wine cask. Going by the graphics on the exquisite label, it’s made from six different casked whiskies: both the peated and unpeated malt have been matured in each of the three cask styles. As a general rule in cooking, the more ingredients that are fed diligently into the mix typically, the more robust and flavourful the dish is, so here’s hoping this is the case for what is roughly five-year-old whisky (Isle of Raasay started distilling on 12th September 2017).
Speaking of exquisite labels, the delicately textured, letterpressed and foiled label is attached to a bottle that is hands-down the most aesthetically magical bottle of whisky I’ve ever laid eyes upon. I knew it was interesting from the plethora of images and videos in existence, but getting to play around with the rough-textured glass has been brilliant fun. There are so many refractions going on that it’s difficult to get a bad photograph, but place a light source at the right spot and the bottle explodes into life, appearing to be ablaze. There are little fossils embedded into the textured surface, along with debossed “Isle of Raasay” block text, of this very unique oblong form (great for logistics, for a square bottle equals less wasted space).
You can read about the design process behind the bottle on the website, which sparks an even greater appreciation for an already highly applaudable effort. Without this insight, I would never have discovered that on the base of the bottle, where typically there’s a serrated texture to aid in surface grip and stability, this has been replaced with the Gaelic spelling of Raasay, “Ratharsair”, on one side, and the English version on the opposite. It’s a hidden detail most will miss, but knowing it’s there now amplifies my respect for Raasay; it’s these efforts that provide additional unspoken endorsement of quality and demonstrate pride in what they’re producing. Only a hardened cynic could fault Raasay for going this extra mile.
The label is coloured with plum, gold and grey, the general branding choice of Raasay that replicates both the autumnal, heathery landscape of the rocky Isle of Raasay and their distillery, the middle section of which is clad in golden metal. For a patriot such as myself, it’s hard not to get misty-eyed at all this Scottishness. Add in the packed-in information on the wrap-around label and I’m all in, chips and dip included. So all that’s left is to uncork the glorious engraved wooden stopper and see what this liquid does to the other senses.
Nose
Lightly smoked, spicy wood, pine needles and hay fields. Tart red fruit compote. Bit of natural yoghurt. Vinyl record. Slight playdough, plastic whiff. Enamel model paints. Yeasty and a savoury malt. Very slight acetone. River stones and black pepper pot. Frozen oven chips.
Palate
New-make: creamy and citrus. Bit of wood in there: freshly sawn oak. Fruits are purple and deep red, with a really nice tartness kicking about in the fringes. A freshly painted railing finds its way into the mix as well as some distant hint of coal smoke — reminds me of my childhood running to school along rows of houses with coal fires burning.
The Dregs
Well, it’s really good. It’s a decent few notches above most newly released whisky... That cask makeup is clearly bringing some really interesting additional notes in above the new-make backdrop, and I am really enjoying my time with it. The expected vanilla wash of new whisky this is definitely not. I’m a big fan of the new-make spirit flavour anyway and it’s here in spades, so I’m on-board almost from the off; the addition of the wood notes, the purple fruits and freshly painted railing adds an engaging complexity that bolsters the youthful spirit forward flavour.
Transparency is the name of the game for contemporary whisky, and it’s what us whisky exciters demand. Raasay are game, with all the information you can ever want available on their website including cask split percentages, yeast strains, fermentation times, spirit cut points and peat levels. They don’t go the full hog and give us the temperatures of the mash and the operator’s names, like Ardnamurchan do, but then again, what does that even matter? To me, not a lot, but to some it might be important.
I’m thoroughly impressed with this. It’s got a resonant sonic mouth to match its rough-hewed stone trousers. It’s no surprise, therefore, to see people grasping at the single cask expressions to get a purer, higher ABV whack of this formidable spirit. To think of what we’ll be experiencing in the whisky landscape six more years down the line, when all these distilleries are producing such incredibly engaging whisky right now, is incredibly exciting. When they hit the maturation point where whisky gets properly going — around ten years is what I gather — it’ll be a golden river of unparalleled opulence. It’s so thrilling to bear witness to it, and more than that, be (an infinitesimally small) part of the whiskysphere as these passionate people go about producing whisky, that it brings joy into what could otherwise be a pretty miserable place. It’s fantastic.
One last thing before I sign off. I posted some images up on Instahoot of this R-01.1 and a few people remarked of its tastiness, but one chap offered a piece of advice that, despite its obviousness, took me completely by surprise. His advice was to get an overtly sherried whisky, a proper dark raisin banger, and put a few dribbles into a measure of Raasay. Doing this elevates the whisky from a borderline 7 to an easy 7: all of a sudden there’s a robust red fruity depth in the mix, opening a different level of engagement. Why is this so surprising? Well, I just never thought to consider what a whisky was potentially lacking, and then manually insert it myself with another whisky. It seems too obvious. Too easy. Yet I’ve never done it.
I urge you to try it, because it does incredible things to this R-01.1. I think I need to do more of this tinkering anyway; thinking about what a whisky needs to satiate my own personal demands, and seeing if I can add it in — I need to blend, in other words. I hear it’s all the rage in whisky.
Score: 6/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. DC
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