Tuesday, September 22, 2015

BUNNAHABHAIN 12


I did eventually come across a delightfully understated Islay malt. One that proved to be well-balanced and nuanced, complex and sessionable. Quite an elusive combination it would seem. The only intimidating facet of this next malt is its pronunciation - Bunnahabhain (bun-nah-HA-vun).

I was having a conversation about peat smoke preferences, during which I determined I am comfortable with almost any degree of smokiness as long as it is kept in proportion with the malt character. My favorites smoky malts tend to be full-bodied, medium-heavy peat (e.g. Lagavulin, Laphroaig, Talisker); or well-rounded malts with background peat (e.g. Oban, Springbank). When the smoke is the star of the show (e.g. Ardbeg, Caol Ila), or either masked by or incongruous with the other flavors (e.g. Bowmore, Jura), I am far less enthusiastic. Balance is the key.

"Have you been to Can Can?", I was asked. Confused at the seemingly abrupt shift in conversation, I replied that yes, I had. French food. Croquet monsieur, moules frites, and so on. What about it? Turns out they also have a kick ass bar.

I have a work-in-progress post about places around Richmond with great scotch selections, so I'll save my spiel on Can Can Brasserie for later, but of more importance to this particular discussion is that they offer an Islay malt I had yet to taste, Bunnahabhain 12. Halfway through my disappointing Bowmore 12 at home at this point and eager to restore my faith in Islay malts, it was time for a field trip.

Bellying up to the bar, I have to shout above the din of the bustling weekend crowd, and yet with the supernatural power of hearing with which many bartenders seem to be blessed, I did not have to repeat myself. Staring down into the tumbler, a generous pour of a magnificent deep copper hue stared back. One of the most strikingly colored malts I have yet seen. No caramel color added, no chill-filtering. It has a nice haze to it just thick enough to obscure the bottom. Beautiful stuff in its natural state.

Holding my Bunnnhabhain 12 up to nose the glass, the lightly peated smoke influence was immediately apparent, however as background atmosphere this time. It reminds me of when somebody well down the street fires up the barbecue grill, eventually wafting your way from who knows where. Then all you know is you suddenly need a hamburger.

This malt has a lot going for it besides its restrained influence of peat smoke. The maritime notes stand out on the nose, briny and vegetal as a low tide (dare I say...umami?). Sherry casking is clearly at work here as well, rarely a hallmark of Islay malts. Nuts and dried fruit add a deep richness. I wanna say a tinge of coffee hangs around between whiffs, but I'm in a French brasserie, coffee is everywhere.

Nor do the flavors disappoint. The sweetness of the full-bodied malt meets harmoniously with the salinity of the coastal aging. The oak flavors and nutty richness of the sherry cask influence pairs off with the subtlety of the peat smoke for a softer, more refined take on Islay whisky. A hint of French roast bitterness rounds out the balance on the taste buds.

The finish was shorter than I would have liked, knowing I wasn't springing for a second dram (but was rapidly reconsidering that stance). At 46.3% ABV, you would expect some ethanol sting, but it comes off more as a warming sensation. There was a slightly metallic, dry sherry finish that hung on a few seconds and I was left with the bouquet of faint smoke and oak lingering on my palate. Aaah...

This may likely be the most balanced Islay malt I've ever tasted. There's nothing particularly unique about Bunnahabhain's distillation methods. They do fudge things a bit by blending individual caskings to achieve their desired result a la Highland Park or Glenrothes Select Reserve, but with a malt this good, I don't really care. Dynamite scotch, people.

Overall Grade: 92/100, A-


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