I had never heard of Tomatin (toe-MAT-in, rhymes with 'satin') when I embarked on this series of single malt scotch reviews. Sure, that could be said of a few others I have already reviewed. Caol Ila comes to mind, which happens to be the largest producing distillery in all of Islay. Tomatin, as it turns out, was once the largest producing distillery in all of Scotland. How have I never heard of this one? Blends, of course.
Just like the lion's share of Caol Ila's efforts end up in a Johnnie Walker bottle, 80% of Tomatin's production plays and works well with others. Production has been scaled back significantly since its late 1970's boom years, from 12 million litres pure alcohol per year down to five, still good enough to finish in the top ten according to Malt Madness:
*1. Glenlivet 10.5 million
2. Glenfiddich 10.0 million
3. Macallan 8.0 million
4. Glenmorangie 6.0 million
Glen Keith 6.0 million
6. Glen Grant 5.9 million
7. Dufftown 5.8 million
8. Balvenie 5.6 million
Glenrothes 5.6 million
10. Tomatin 5.0 million
Glen Ord 5.0 million
*Loch Lomond Distillery produces 12.0 million pure litres of pure alcohol per year, but using distillation methods that fall outside the strict 2009 SWR definition of 'single malt scotch whisky'. Long story.
If there were others on this list of whom you were unfamiliar, chances are you've consumed them at some point already in a blended whisky. Not all distilleries release single malt expressions; in fact, it's a relatively new market niche. There may have been a kid named Glen Keith on my childhood swim team. Other than that, I have never heard or seen that name before this list.
In 1986, Tomatin became the first distillery in Scotland to have Japanese owners. Nowadays, this would not be front page news, but back in the day it didn't sit quite so well. Tomatin was also the first distillery to use lauter mash tuns. These are typically found in breweries, and use sharp, twisting knives to facilitate breakdown of the mash into starches, rather than the traditional mixing rakes found at most distilleries. I include this information only because I came across this trivial anecdote on 3 different websites, but I'm not sure why anyone not working at a distillery would care.
The color was a pleasant bronze, but appeared rather thin as it swirled around the bulb of my Glencairn glass. The nose was promising. Caramel popcorn was the first thing I wrote down. Green pear and faint smoke were the next. It took me a while to put my finger on it, but the last thing I jotted down was... beer can. This might give you an instant association with lukewarm PBR at a high school kegger in the woods, but I mean it as a positive...
The burst of air upon popping the tab on an icy can of Hardywood Cream Ale or Champion Shower Beer carries that brief metallic twinge just before you dive into frosty beer deliciousness. Bottled beer can't quite compete with that level of instant refreshment after a day shoveling 10 yards of mulch out of the driveway just so your wife can finally get her car out of the garage. Anyhoo... the metallic aroma has pleasant association for me at least, and it's only a background aroma at that. Although considering 12 years of oak casking and use of wooden worm tubs, I'm not sure why it's there. Maybe those mysterious lauter mash tuns?
The flavors did not quite live up to the aromas in this case. Upon pulling in a sip, I didn't taste much at first. A honey sweet, mildly spiced flavor gradually set in. More apple than the pear I nosed earlier, still very light. Not sure where the smoke went. A tad oily, very smooth, but not particularly deep or complex. The flavors I found underwhelming for a single malt, but I can see the potential for use in blends.
I was still on board at this point, but the finish is where it falls apart. That metallic note lights back up, which doesn't work as well as a flavor. The biggest shock to the system was the extreme bitterness of the finish, a burnt Jiffy Lube waiting room coffee taste that just won't go away. The 43% ABV had been quiet until now, but stings on its way out. Extremely drying, instant cottonmouth. Normally, I like a long finish, but this one did not agree with me at all.
To wrap things up in a lowbrow metaphor, I liken my start-to-finish experience with Tomatin 12 to spotting an attractive woman sauntering by, exchanging forgettable pleasantries of small talk, and then discovering she passed gas before walking away. Unfortunately, it's that last bit you'll always remember.
Overall Grade: 75/100, C
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