After going to see Spectre the other day, I was talking about all the different actors' wide ranging interpretations of 007. As I polished off the last of my Glendronach 12, it dawned on me there were some parallels analogous to the various regional takes on scotch whisky (indulge me a minute):
Sean Connery = Highland (what could be more Scottish?)
George Lazenby = Campbeltown (the one you've never heard of)
Roger Moore = Islands (the goofiest category, but does include some of the best)
Timothy Dalton = Lowland (only 2 to choose from, neither are anybody's favorites)
Pierce Brosnan = Speyside (satisfies your preconceived notions, the fancy one)
Daniel Craig = Islay (probably closest to the source material, likes it rough)
The next scotch I tasted doesn't fit snugly into my James Bond paradigm, however. Maybe a Jason Statham role. Sporting an eyepatch, stroking a honey badger in his lap. Oh yes, this one's gonna leave a mark...
Supposedly 60-70% of flavor comes from the cask in which scotch is aged. Temperature fluctuations cause expansion and contraction, drawing the malt in and out as the porous oak 'breathes'. American oak (Quercus alba) is more porous than European (Quercus robur), and each is used accordingly by distillers (read more if you find this riveting). Evaporation and the gradual influx of air influence flavors and character of the whisky. Bourbon and/or sherry cask selection, the number of times a cask has been filled, even the manner the previous cask was dried all come into play,
The size of the cask is not really something we've addressed yet. American Standard Barrel ('ASB') bourbon casks hold 200 L. It doesn't take a rocket surgeon to deduce that a 'quarter cask' would hold 50 L (known as a 'firkin' to brewers). With this smaller cask, the surface area ratio of wood:whisky greatly increases, ramping up the flavor of a malt. When the malt in question is Laphroaig though, "the most richly flavoured whisky of them all", the result could have irrevocable consequences to your palate. Superheroes have been spawned drinking lesser concoctions.
On the nose, Laphroaig QC has about as much subtlety as a lap dance. Formaldehyde, latex rubber, really a phenolic slew of industrial strength medicinal aromas practically bypassing your nasal cavity altogether, riding up your olfactory cranial nerve to announce their presence directly to your brain's frontal lobe. At this 40-43 ppm level, it does seem plausible that the aromatic compounds at work here can literally stimulate locusts to swarm. Next comes the smoke. A deeply soggy, smoldering swamp grass smoke that would repel mosquitos. Once this initial wave has crashed the beach and begins to ebb a bit, here come the oily/salty/fishy intertidal aromas of anchovy paste, grocery store caviar, and a musky sunbaked heap of vegetal flotsam and jetsam*.
*Under maritime law, 'flotsam' refers to debris from a shipwreck or lost overboard accidentally; 'jetsam' is debris intentionally jettisoned. Flotsam is legal property of its original owner and is to be returned if possible; jetsam is legally 'finders keepers'.
I bought an entire bottle of this stuff untasted, maybe I should pace myself. I'm nearly overwhelmed at this point and I haven't even taken a sip yet. I left the dram sitting on my coffee table and left the room for a solid ten minutes. Its aromas never completely left me in the interim, but on my way back I could already smell the stuff coming down the hall.
Round two of the nosing was less intense, but more complex. The smokiness now had a woody sweetness to it, like mesquite or hickory lump charcoal. The medicinal aroma had not abated (nor will it ever), but some of the oily fish notes were taking a backseat to a fresh cut wood aroma, like the exposed frame of a new home construction site. Some tropical fruit aromas cut through the fog - coconut shavings, banana. The malt had really 'opened up', but I still had to open a window and turn on a fan for the sake of my family.
43 scotches into this blog, and I still find myself hesitating to put lips to glass with this one. It's been a while since I've tasted a true peat monster, almost a year since my last Laphroaig, but you can't swim with the sharks without jumping into the water at some point. When the iPod picked out the Beastie Boys' "Sabotage", it snapped me out of it (bottoms up!), but then took way too big a first swig to atone for my initial reticence...
As I braced for impact, I was surprised to find an intense sweetness at play first and foremost, the kind that makes your fillings tingle. Syrupy sweet, the ham glaze from Thanksgiving came to mind. Peat smoke starts to permeate throughout the palate, like mouth breathing behind an idling diesel tractor. After one sip, I suspect my clothes already reek of phenols. The level of spice threw me for a loop as well. There's an actual kick to it; not exactly Bolivian death pepper, but a capsicum level along the lines of a shake of red chili flakes.
The maritime character came through, but as I was half-expecting 'liquid herring', it was the one component I felt was actually understated. I imagine this would pair perfectly with oysters rockefeller or eel sushi. There was an aged cheese note of funkiness swimming around at this point. Guess I should have eaten first, but I like to taste new malts with a clean palate. My sudden hunger I chalked up to my taste buds crying uncle in favor of more familiar/less intense stimulation.
On the finish, I realized I hadn't sensed much of the oak on the palate. Surprising, given the nature of its unique cask aging, but it shined though now that the sweetness was flaming out. Drying, and a bit tannic, like strongly brewed tea. The peat and smoke clung to the palate like a coat of paint. It was enough to make my morning coffee taste weird, and that was after two rounds with a toothbrush in the interim.
Wow, now that's how you do a firkin Islay malt! I need to taste this stuff 'mano y mano' with Laphroaig 10 to give it its due diligence, but I'm not sure my palate could take an ass kicking like that in one sitting. I will say it checks all the boxes the 10 is known for, then adds a few tricks of its own. Online reviewers repeatedly feel the need to compare/contrast LQC with Ardbeg Uigeadail, but I'm afraid I can't help you with that one. All I know is that if I'm going to tackle a peat monster, I do appreciate when there are multiple dimensions to explore outside the smoke cloud, which the LQC has in spades.
It's going to take me ages to finish an entire bottle of this. I should probably pick up a companion malt just to keep my palate in check. LQC strikes me as a 'special occasion' malt. Come to think of it, this weekend's RVA Krampusnacht seems tailor made for such a diabolical elixir. After all, this is probably what those on the 'Naughty List' are drinking anyway.
Overall Grade: 93/100, A-
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