Clynelish 14 Year

I've been hearing about Clynelish (KLINE-leash) off and on since I started this blog. The story is really in two parts - a story of two distilleries. The original Clynelish distillery is now called "Brora" and was last open between 1968 and 1983, making heavily peated whisky to make up for a shortage on Islay (!) for blending purposes (!!). Brora is long closed, and any remaining bottles from it are in the Holy Grail pantheon of whiskies. 

The modern Clynelish, up in the far, far northeast of Scotland (think: Old Pulteney), has been putting out high quality whisky for many years now, but - as is the way of our capitalist society - most of it has been channeled straight into Johnnie Walker Gold. 


Clynelish is also rather famous for having a "waxy" quality to its whisky, because of the oils they allow to gather and coagulate in the feints and foreshots (first and last portions of distillate that are usually recycled and not bottled). I've read about this quality all over the place, and had it described to me in person as well. 

Some, however, has been preserved as single malt and released in this 14 year expression. Bottled at 46% ABV, in what is presumably a mix of ex-bourbon and ex-sherry casks, chill-filtered and colored with E150. 

Nose: Interesting. Dry and sour.  A strong salty brine in a very similar note to Old Pulteney, with some iodine added; Clynelish and Old Pulteney are the only two distilleries on the upper coastal northeast Highlands, and this is clearly their signature note. Sour plums, whole. A snuffed candle wax note. Orange flesh and bitter orange peel. A certain very pleasant floral element. Maybe bubble gum, maybe blueberries. Light Highland peat. And a little honey and caramel, which develop with time. Rich nose, shows those 14 years.

Mouthfeel: Quite thin. Almost watery.

Palate: Evolutionary - the nose transforms slowly across the palate. Underneath everything is a very consistent, playful taste of smoking wood - like young oak planks thrown into a bonfire; Highland peat elements. Quite a strong alcohol burn. TONS  of baking spices - cloves, cinnamon, more. Orange remains, but gets blurry, blends with the crusts of sea salt. The wax note is still here, and thickens in the background. More bubble gum. As the alcohol burn fades, pepper develops. A distant floral honeycomb note appears. Lots of things are happening here. 

Finish: Lemon peel, and a strong note of it, appears from nowhere. I kept re-drinking, to see if I was missing the lemon on the nose or in the taste, but no - it just emerges in the finish, along with salt and a certain faint medicinal iodine element. Peppercorn, leather. And the same smoking oak and peat flavor keeps going here. The smoke is very light, and doesn't hang on the tongue in the manner of, say, Laphroaig. 

Verdict: Quite an interesting dram. It is quite complex, and I'm still not sure I'm catching everything. Maybe almost too complex - the nose and the taste really need time and experience to figure out what's happening, in full, and they both change when the glass is allowed sit out and oxidize, becoming lighter and sweeter with time. 

I sense the famous wax element, but not too strongly. I wonder if the blueberry element I pick up is actually part of the waxiness. The wood here is quite strong - tons of oak and char - and there is a surprisingly muscular element of misty smoke and thick brine. I didn't get any vanilla or caramel at all, but I did pick up some nice light sherry elements. I had a bit of a hard time getting a handle on this one, but I much enjoyed it nonetheless. Worthwhile, although at $60 (Uigeadail territory around here), I am not sure I'll seek it out again without a sale... that said, I am definitely on the hunt for some independent bottlings of Clynelish.