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Nant Port Wood 43%

Reviewed by: Nick

One day, Nant is going to take over the world.

It started out as a fairly innocuous venture. Queensland businessman buys small country estate in the tiny country town of Bothwell, Tasmania. But all is not what is seems.

Bothwell as a town is in fact a tribute to Scotland; it is built on the ‘Clyde’ River and, heart-warmingly, features tartan street signs. The Estate’s new owner is the business-savvy Keith Batt, and only ten years after purchasing the property, he has built a distillery, exponentially expanded its output, opened a successful chain of Whisky Bars around the world, and along the way, produced some truly wonderful whisky. This was never going to be a small-scale boutique distillery…

Fortunately for Nant, in this quest for success and recognition they have not compromised the quality of their product; instead producing batches of frequently excellent whisky. While they may not yet be a truly worldwide product, they can count among their fans one Jim Murray, author of the iconic (and egotistically titled) yearly publication: ‘The Whisky Bible’. Surely it is only a matter of time before Nant goes global.

Nant mature their whisky in various cask types, though there is something special about the ‘Port Wood 43%’ release. Lightly amber in colour, it is sweet on the nose with hints of raisins coated in white chocolate. It is gloriously rich on the palate, featuring cloves, nutmeg and other spices. It is still sweet, but also creamy, and has strong notes of citrus fruit; particularly oranges. The finish is warm, pleasant and creamy. The fruit cake characteristics remain, along with cherries and maple syrup. When you drink this whisky not only do you get flavours of Christmas pudding, but brandy butter, too.

While this whisky is complex and interesting, it is also smooth enough to be enjoyed by non-whisky drinkers. It is unique, memorable, and well worth seeking out.

Of course, it is also built upon the most successful business model seen within the Tasmanian Whisky industry. When trying a drop of Nant, you are not only drinking a whisky – you are drinking an empire.

★★★★

Strathisla 12 Year Old

Reviewed by: Ted

Some people say that nothing that comes out of a medicine bottle ever tastes good. Well, I would argue that is not always the case, especially when the bottle contains Strathisla 12 Year Old.

Now, I’m not saying that whisky is medicinal (although my dad always had a glass if he felt a cold coming on), but the Strathisla 12 captures the look of a Victorian medicine bottle, with beautiful dark green glass, embossed lettering, several fonts, and a lovely etching of the distillery.

Strathisla is owned by Chivas Brothers, makers of the well known range of Chivas Regal blends. According to the box the distillery itself is ‘The oldest distillery in the Highlands’, although we would debate this fact slightly. Not the age mind, but the location, because when you look on a map you would be forgiven for thinking that Strathisla is smack bang in Speyside.

A sly Speyside imp certainly dances into the character of the Strathisla 12. The nose is light and sharp, with notes of hard fruit, grain, and crushed grass. The taste is crisp and green, with strong bitter herbal flavours that cut across the tongue, leaving a lasting dryness. There’s a raw, untamed edge to this Strathisla that suggests a younger whisky than its 12 years. Perhaps a few more years in the barrel would coax it into bloom.

If you are one of those people that are of the opinion ‘It’s herbal, so it must be good for you’, then you will probably find a better bet in the Strathisla 12 than downing some concoction of random weeds pulled from the garden. The bitterness will definitely be a turnoff for some people, but sometimes that’s just what you want. In fact, come to think of it, the herbal qualities may even make it an excellent component for a cocktail. Take a walk into the leafy green garden of Strathisla and see if it’s just the tonic you’re looking for.

★★

Laphroaig Quarter Cask

Reviewed by: Nick

At the time, this was the most expensive bottle of whisky I had ever bought. My best friend, co-writer and co-drinker Ted, had just bought a bottle of Lagavulin 16 and I convinced myself I needed to follow suit with something equally special. So I parted with more money than a uni student like me would normally spend in a month, and took the plunge into the world of Islay whiskies. I was not disappointed.

While this whisky may be younger than 10 years (no age statement is provided, so it’s hard to be sure) it has been matured in smaller ‘quarter’ casks, hence the name of the expression. The reduction in barrel size ensures the spirit has had more contact with the wood than it would usually be allowed (Laphroaig claim 30% more!) and suddenly a more complex, more dynamic whisky is born.

There is still plenty of peat on offer here. However, while the 10 Year Old is merely smouldering, the Quarter Cask is burning intensely: it is the whisky equivalent of a blazing bonfire.

Coastal elements are present on the nose; a sea breeze of salt, brine and seaweed. The fire transfers to the palate: the increased bottling level of 48% gives this whisky the kick and spice that the 10 Year Old lacks. Sweeter flavours come through: toffee, treacle, cocoa, even caramel. The finish is lengthy and memorable. Huge gusts of smoke roll across the palate, and linger for minutes afterwards.

Peated whisky is made by many distilleries. But rarely has one got it as right as this. There is without doubt still a sense of rawness about it. In no way can it be described as the smoothest, most elegant, or even the best whisky you will taste. But all these elements, remarkably, work in its favour. This is peated whisky. This is Islay.

★★★★

Amrut Fusion

Reviewed by: Mooresy

Keen not to be left behind, India’s first single malt was launched in 2004 by Amrut Distilleries and has had a meteoric rise to success in the world market over the last decade. Not trying to imitate Scotch, Indian whisky brings its own special something to the field.

True to its name, this variant is a fusion between the traditional methods of the Scots and the experimental, unshackled approach of Indian distillers. Like a child who has moved out of home in defiance but is still keen to impress the parents, Amrut whiskies are a reminder to the world that independence can lead to innovation in a way only ex-colonial powers demonstrate.

For long-time drinkers of Scotch whisky who are yet to stray into the realm of Australian, Japanese or any other countries, Amrut Fusion will be a surprising drop. On the nose there are hints of spice and sweetness, pushing the mind to thoughts of chai and other familiar Indian flavours.

After a short while, the intensity fades and, I for one, was left with the clearest smell of warm cinnamon doughnuts. On a cold night sitting on a balcony somewhere looking over the ocean, one would feel they were right there at a carnival surrounded by cotton candy, caramel popcorn, and of course the doughnuts.

To taste it gets more traditional, the fruitcake and chocolaty flavours, with the vanilla notes almost inescapable in bourbon-matured drams. The Scottish barley has arguably its biggest influence on the palate through the peat it brings to Fusion, giving a nice smoky kickback to whisky’s origins. Nothing overpowering, just enough to affect the finish and push it out that little bit longer.

There’s a moderate finish, but it’s hard to identify the length because once finished there is a strong desire to just top up the glass a little more and keep the sensation alive. Imagine opening a box of 12 cinnamon doughnuts: you never eat just one.

In the same way that Suntory exhibits qualities archetypal to the qualities of the country in which it was made – precision, exactness, and patience – there is something of the same in Amrut. A busyness and complexity that may make it hard to pin down individual flavours at first but given time all come together and paint a picture everyone can enjoy. There are few whiskies where the phrase “the whole is greater than the sum of the parts” is so applicable.

Amrut has several variants including a peated and a cask strength version of their original single malt, but Fusion is delicious, readily available, affordable, and has a hedonic quality that so far differs from all other Indian whisky (not to mention Scotch whisky) in a charming and moreish way.

★★★

The Whisky Waffle community

Posted by: Nick

The more I discover about the Tasmanian whisky scene, the more I appreciate the close-knit little community that has developed. People are friendly, enthusiastic and willing to help out one another to ensure this thriving industry continues to boom. Our website is only a tiny part of the bigger picture but we would love to help foster this sense of community.

And on that note, we would like to announce the next writer upon Whisky Waffle: YOU! Well – it could be you! If anyone has a piece they are keen to share with the world, or a dram they are desperate to review, send us an email at whiskywaffle@gmail.com and let us know!

So with no further ado may I introduce our first guest contributor: Mr Alex ‘Mooresy’ Moores!

Mooresy and Nick are in ‘good spirits’ after meeting Jim McEwan. See what I did there?

I met Mooresy while attending the Jim McEwan night last Thursday and was impressed by his enthusiasm and passion for the water of life. His first review will hit the site tomorrow and I assure you, it’s a cracker of a read. Make sure you stop by to check it out!

Until then, keep waffling!

Photo provided by the TWAS. Used with permission.

Jim McEwan: the Rock-Star of Whisky

They say you should never meet your heroes. But in the case of Jim McEwan, master distiller of Bruichladdich, they could not be more wrong.

On Thursday the 9^th of October, in Howrah of all places, I had the great pleasure to meet an absolute legend of the whisky world. His introductory spiel described him as “a man you should move heaven and earth to see”. He himself informed us that after six drams I would be thinking of him as a rock star. That wasn’t true. In my eyes, he was a rock star before I had touched a single drop.

The only photo I managed to get taken before my cameras memory filled up. Typical.

Upon walking into the venue I could have been forgiven for feeling out of place. I was possibly the first person to ever wear a bow tie into the Shoreline Hotel. But I quickly realised I was right where I intended to be after spotting a who’s who of Tasmanian whisky: Tim Duckett. Dean Jackson. Casey and Jane Overeem. Richard Stewart. And of course, Robbie from Lark.

The person we had come to see, however, was from slightly further afield and made his entrance in a style befitting of a master Scottish distiller. Clad in a black suit with Bruichladdich-Blue shirt and tie, he marched into the room to the sound of blaring bagpipes. And there he was, the self-proclaimed ‘cask whisperer’ himself (he confessed he enjoyed talking to his whisky barrels with phrases such as: “you are so beautiful”).

Once our applause had died down, he congratulated the piper, Heath, handing him a dram of Islay’s finest. Upon watching Heath sample the whisky, he commented: “Never have I seen a piper take sips!”

Heath was quick to reply: “I was expecting it to be good!”

Jim laughed and grabbed a bottle to refill the glass and did so – right to the top!

It was a night full of similar banter and hilarious anecdotes providing many laughs for all in attendance. Jim confessed that when he begins nights such as this he doesn’t know what he’s going to say, much like fellow Scotsman, Billy Connolly. Hence, many rambling tangents were followed – and some great stories developed from them.

So many whisky fans in one room!

He began with praise for Tasmania, which filled my heart with pride. He had just attended what he described as his “twentieth tasting in two days” and was impressed with the Lark and Heartwood that he tried. Tasmania, he said, has many similarities with Scotland, and while at first this induced some home sickness, he confessed that after six drams of Lark whisky his pining was miraculously cured. His spiel concluded with the highest praise of all, confirming a belief many Tasmanians hold: “Tasmania is the new Islay”.

The tales continued throughout the night, and we heard the story of how Jim followed his heart to the closed and neglected Bruichladdich distillery and re-employed much of the same crew that used to work there: getting the band back together, Blues Brothers style.

He mentioned how the decision to make gin saved the distillery in financially troubled times, using the “traditional Scottish tactics of bribery and corruption” to convince a fellow gin maker from Birmingham to provide some know-how. ‘The Botanist’ is now a highly regarded product – even by me, the non-gin drinker!

Other stories were less relevant, but just as entertaining. For example the time in the 60s he met psychedelic rock star, Donovan. Donovan had, remarkably, been sent to Islay to get ‘clean’; the result of which was many shouted drams for the locals, and Donovan leaving the island in an ambulance.

There were many, many more tall tales told as the whisky flowed: creative use of Heinz salad cream bottles – and Big Angus’ wellies, tasting notes for Japanese students that were lost in translation, advice for every male present to seek themselves a ‘man-cave’, and of course the knock on the door of Gunta (just after Scotland had defeated England 7-0 in the world cup final).

Perhaps the most poignant of all, however, was Jim’s belief in his community. Bruichladdich employs over 70 people on Islay. Many larger distilleries have no more than 6 staff members. It was that sense of the island coming together that instilled Jim with more pride than anything else he had achieved. I mentioned to him afterwards that of all the distilleries I had been to, Bruichladdich had the best people. “And isn’t that what counts?” he said, clearly chuffed.

Half a dozen drams – a quiet night for Jim McEwan!

The whisky, while not the main attraction of the night, was exceptional. The Laddie Classic was lightly salty, reflecting the conditions in which it was matured, but it was also floral and fruity. The Islay Barley was next, maltier, stronger, and one of Jim’s proudest accomplishments, having been grown, distilled and bottled all on site. “How many distilleries in the world can lay claim to that?” he asked. Redlands’ Dean Jackson just sat quietly.

This was followed by the Black Arts 03.1 – a whisky described by Jim as a “protest whisky”. It was his raised middle finger to the marketing team, to whom he would not reveal its cask types. He challenged us to guess for ourselves. The popular answer was sherry, although he was quick to point out that this was not the sole ingredient. “How many people have actually bought a bottle of sherry in the last six months?” he asked. In the entire room only two people raised their hand. “Sherry is dead in the water. We need to look further”. There were certainly some wine notes in amongst this whisky – it reminded me strongly of the Dalmore Cigar Malt Reserve.

Curiously we then diverged from the tasting order. We moved straight to whisky number five, which was the Port Charlotte 10 Year Old. Named after a long since closed distillery, this whisky was coated in delicious swirling, but not overpowering, peat. There were apricots and other stone fruit flavours to be found and reminded me of Bruichladdich’s neighbour, Kilchoman. Jim told us he tracked down an aged old man who many years in the past had worked at the original Port Charlotte distillery. Upon being asked if he remembered the taste of the whisky, the response was: “Aye aye aye aye aye. Aye aye. Aye aye aye. Aye. It tasted good!”

Whisky number six was the famous Octomore 6.1, the most heavily peated whisky in the world. I must confess to having sampled this dram before and adoring it – although this experience was slightly different to the way I previously tried it. Jim encouraged us to take a generous glug, hold it in our mouths for 30 seconds before swallowing. He compared this sensation to Usain Bolt bursting from the blocks and after trying it, I could understand the analogy.

I must confess that I could not tell you much about whisky number four. At that point in the evening, Jim declared we were to do a highland toast. Left foot on a chair, right foot on the table we enthusiastically repeated many (mispronounced) Gaelic words, waving our glass about (trying not to spill any), before taking a generous swig. Amazingly, even after the quantity of whisky that had been consumed, no glasses (or bones) were broken, much to the relief of the nervous looking bar staff.

Allof us up on the table - and Jim was the most spritely!

Out of all of us, Jim was the most spritely!

The night concluded with a rendition of the Scottish national anthem – or so we thought until the Proclaimers ‘I would walk 500 miles’ blared through the speakers. Jim stood up the front and conducted our raucous chanting.

As the people filtered from the venue at the end of the night, I left enlightened, inspired and thoroughly entertained. Never had the community that accompanies whisky drinking been so apparent in Tasmania. We were united as one, all in awe of a man who we regarded as an idol: the master distiller. However at the same time upon meeting him and discovering how humble and down to earth he was, we were also able to describe him with the highest praise an Australian could give: Jim McEwan is a good bloke.

This bottle was coincidentally the same colour that Jim was wearing! And a bottle I will treasure forever.

Yamazaki 12 Year Old

Reviewed by: Ted

If you stood at the top of Ben Nevis in the highlands of Scotland and turned your eyes eastwards, then you would probably just see quite a lot of Scotland to be honest. However, if you had truly exceptional eyesight, even better than the elf eyes of Legolas, then in the far East you may be able to see a mighty chain of islands under the rising sun (this is of course assuming that your amazing eyes can penetrate Scottish rain!).

The islands of course form the ancient nation of Japan, a place of legends and gods, samurais and ninjas, geisha girls, and very strict tea parties. A curious thing you may not have expected to find in Japan is a fully fledged whisky industry… and yet Japan is the third largest producer of the amber drop behind Scotland and America, and is home to some of the greatest whiskies in the world.

As a country, Japan has only a relatively short history of making whisky, and like Australia the modern scene has its origins in a conscious decision to start an industry. After the introduction of Scotch whisky to Japan in the late 1800’s, a primordial ooze of distillers formed, but it wasn’t until 1923 that the first serious attempt emerged with the founding of Yamazaki distillery by Shinjirro Torii.

Apparently the initial releases were not favourable and so Torii hired a fellow countryman by the name of Masataka Taketsuru. Taketsuru had studied in Scotland in the early 1910’s, and after marrying Kirkintilloch girl Jessie ‘Rita’ Cowan, worked at Hazelburn distillery for several years before returning to Japan. The in-depth knowledge of whisky making Taketsuru gained in Scotland provided the crucial spark that Torii needed to make a worthy dram.

Thanks to the work of Torii and Taketsuru, modern Japanese whisky shares much in common with Scotch whisky, helped by the fact that Japan has a similar climate and terrain to Scotland. Yamazaki distillery (owned by Suntory, one of the two major players in the Japanese whisky industry) is located in the outskirts of Kyoto on Japan’s main island of Honshu.

The Yamazaki 12yr old was the first Japanese whisky I ever tried, and it piqued my interest in the malts of those eastern isles. The colour is a burnished gold that would be at home in a Japanese shrine. The nose is sweet and intensely fruit driven, with a strong scent of red pears backed with a light hint of mandarins.

The flavour is bright, and bursts in a wave across the tongue and roof of the mouth. After an initial sweet hit, sharp tangy citrus flavours dominate the tastebuds and charge up to the back of the nose. The finish is lightly dry with a slight bittersweetness, and brings to mind the feeling left after eating a green chewy lolly.

Although the bright, sharp flavours may not be to everyone’s tastes, the Yamazaki 12 is a great starting point for anyone wanting to try Japanese whisky, and not only because it comes from the oldest commercial distillery in Japan. The Yamazaki 12 provides a glimpse into the mind of a new whisky culture, one forged out of the soul of an ancient civilisation. Kampai!

★★★

Laphroaig 10 Year Old

Reviewed by: Nick

Peat. One of the biggest, strongest and most divisive flavours found within a dram of whisky. The smoky, medicinal notes send some people running to the hills with just the merest of whiffs. But to others, there are no better flavours in the entire world of whisky. These flavours are most strongly associated with one place: Islay.

The early Ileach distillers did not set out with the intention of creating such iconically flavoured whisky. The use of peat to smoke the barley was born out of necessity rather than creativity. Islay is as remote as it is boggy, and getting coal to the island on a train was simply not an option. So the locals turned to a resource they had in abundance: peat. It kept them warm in their houses against the wild force of the Atlantic Ocean, so burning anything else in their kilns was never a consideration.

The most famous example of peated whisky is made by the Laphroaig Distillery. As far as standard releases go, nothing is on the same extreme level in terms of the peaty intensity of its flavour.

In their 10 Year Old expression it is immediately noticeable – before it has even come close to your nose. Smoke. Ash. Medicinal iodine notes, all there smouldering together. This is the scent of a bonfire at the beach.

The palate is legendarily akin to licking a burnt log. Maritime notes are present; briny, seaweed flavours ebbing through gently. Other, more obscure elements are there too, such as leather and sawdust. The bourbon cask imparts only small amounts of vanilla; and what comes through is particularly dry and slightly bitter.

The finish is disappointingly short and contains several soapy, chalky notes, before the smoke gently comes rolling back, leaving a warm, lingering ash-like flavour.

While it is not the best Islay, or even Laphroaig has to offer, there is no doubt this dram showcases some amazing peaty flavours. It is, however, something of a one card trick, let down by the flavours that accompany the smoke. This does not disappoint me too much. If this is merely the entry level, how good must their other expressions be?

★★★

Rambling at Redlands: our trip to Tasmania’s ninth distillery

Posted by Nick and Ted

If you haven’t worked it out already, we’re not shy to talk about our pride in the fledgling whisky industry in our home state of Tasmania. Currently there are nine operating distilleries and as whisky writers, it is our duty-bound quest to visit each and every one of them.

This quest begins with a distillery so new that we left without even tasting a single drop of their whisky… the reason being that it is currently in oak barrels and will not be ready for the best part of a year!

The distillery in question is of course Redlands Estate, Tasmania’s ninth distillery. As we approached the estate, the elm-lined drive provided glimpses of the red bricks of the 19^th century heritage farm buildings. Constructed using thousands of bricks made on-site by convicts, the estate summons up a picture of old world rustic charm.

Vintage beauty... and some old building, too.

Vintage beauty… and some old buildings, too.

Redlands Estate was originally founded as an innovative farming complex, the fields fed by the waters of the Plenty River, which was diverted into a system of canals throughout the property, devised by the very Tasmanian sounding Count Strzelecki. Over the years the estate served many purposes such a hop farm, a dairy, and a granary, before falling into disrepair in the late 20^th century.

Fast-forward to 2008 when the new owner, agricultural consultant Peter Hope, was contemplating the future of the property. During a lunch with the godfather of Tasmanian whisky, the great Bill Lark, the idea of creating a distillery on the site was formed. However, this was to be no ordinary distillery: the ambitious minds of Peter and Bill envisaged an establishment that would become Tasmania’s, and possibly the world’s, first true paddock to bottle distillery.

Redlands Estate is perfectly suited to this brief: fertile fields for growing barley, pure water from the Styx Valley flowing down the Plenty River, and striking buildings for housing malting floors, stills, and aging barrels. Bringing these elements together is head distiller Dean Jackson, with whom we had the genuine pleasure of spending an enjoyable afternoon.

Nick pretending to look at the scenery.

We began our tour with a walk around the grounds, taking in the historic buildings, the Plenty river (Dean was keen to get the “there’s plenty of water” joke out of the way early) and the barley fields. The newly emerging shoots were of the Gardener variety, a brewer’s barley rich in oils and flavours. After harvest in late summer, the barley is steeped in an old water trough left over from the estate’s time as a dairy.

When Dean decides the barley is ready, he transfers it to the malting floor. In his own words: “gumboots on, spade in hand, shovel through window”. The malting room is an ex-granary and shearing shed, and due to the lack of underfloor heating, can only be used in the warmer months. Dean then hand turns the grain three times a day for a week until germination reaches the optimal point. After that, it’s into the purpose-built kiln, a large rotating stainless-steel drum, contrasting wildly with the brick chimneys and pagodas found in Scotland.

Ted contemplating the precise function of doorways.

We wandered back inside to the room which houses the mash tun, the wash back and the solitary still, and embarked on a discussion about the flavours imparted in the earliest stages of the creation of the spirit. Different temperatures in the mash tun create different sugar types: lower temperatures can create honey and floral notes, whereas higher temperatures induce brown sugar and molasses flavours. Too hot, and less pleasant notes can emerge. Dean references this as a crucial process: “Stuff it up and you’ll get bad spirit”.

We were lucky enough to sample some of the wash straight from the wash back: Ted described it as sweet unhopped homebrew, while Nick claimed it was better than actual beer. Next we tried some new make spirit from only the 26^th distillation completed at Redlands. In the absence of a single malt, we thought we would provide some tasting notes for the new make:

Redlands Estate New Make Spirit:

Rather unsurprisingly, this spirit was very clear in appearance and had high alcohol on the nose. Once we finished congratulating ourselves on this line, we did discover some other flavours, such as floral and oily notes, with a whiff of match smoke. Rich across the palate with hints of almonds and plums.

The one and only still, with the one and only Dean Jackson.

We were then offered the chance to visit the maturation room housing all 42 barrels laid down by Dean to date. Unfortunately we cannot reveal the location of this fabled room, as we were forced to swear on our miserable lives to keep the location secret before being allowed in (blindfolds and top-secret rituals may or may not have been involved too).

Once inside, our noses were immediately greeted with the glorious scent of potential whisky. Dean told us to inhale as much as we could whilst there, to ensure the angels didn’t get too much (greedy sods).

The mission of Redlands Estate is to create a purely Tasmanian whisky, so you won’t find any ex-bourbon or European sherry barrels lying around. Instead, Redlands matures its spirit start-to-finish in ex-Pinot Noir casks sourced from three southern Tasmanian wineries. This is a departure from not just traditional Scotch whisky, but also from fellow Tasmanian distilleries. What effect this will have on the finished product we can only guess at, but Dean tells us that it’s shaping up as something very special.

The newest barrel: number 42. The water of life within the meaning of life.

Our tour concluded with some tastings, not of whisky, but of three apple based products crafted by Dean. It was here that we received an insight into his tasting philosophy:

“All the flavours are already in your head from a young age. Practise gives the ability to draw them out and differentiate between them. The flavours that you discover come from your own life experiences, and will vary from person to person.”

Therefore he took no offence when Ted describe the brandy on offer as smelling like ‘damp fridge’, having himself described a prestigious whisky at a TWAS tasting event as smelling like ‘wet fish’!

“I also detect notes of burnt shoes and the tears of grown men”

Redlands presents itself as a rustic, idyllic, countryside establishment which provides a true all-encompassing Tasmanian experience. While for some businesses this image would be merely a façade, a means to an end, we were pleased to discover that this was not the case at all; it is every bit as genuine as it claims to be. The ethos of Redlands is shown in the dedication, passion and care taken in every aspect of the whisky making process. We believe that these elements will be expressed in the Redlands single malt when it is finally released, and we will be excited to sample this unique Tasmanian whisky.

Hellyers Road Pinot Noir Finish

Reviewed by: Nick

Tasmania is rapidly becoming known as the ‘Whisky Isle’ of Australia. Not only are distillers here in my home state creating award winning produce, they are also experimenting with new methods to create unique whisky. Hellyers Road Distillery is no exception to this, and perhaps their most interesting expression is their Pinot finish.

The Tasmanian wine industry is already thriving, with cool climate wines such as Pinot Noir being made exceptionally well, particularly in the Tamar Valley. It is from here that Hellyers road sources barrels to transfer previously bourbon-aged spirit into for the final six months of its maturation.

The difference this process makes is marked. One glance tells you that this is a very different whisky to the Original release. Its colour is no longer light and pale; instead it is enticingly golden. The nose is equally varied. There are still the typical buttery notes to be found, but now these are infused with fruits such as raisins and dates. The palate is rather light, but gone are some of the sharper, rougher flavours of the Original. Instead there are dry, almost sour notes, competing intriguingly with the more expected flavours of vanilla and toffee. The finish is spicy, the added kick from the alcohol percentage of 46.2% clearly apparent. Finally, you are left with the trademark Hellyers Road buttery notes that remind me of not so much a cake, but rather uncooked cake batter.

The Pinot Noir cask is a fascinating malt. Undoubtedly more interesting and complex than its cousin, the Original, it is also smoother and easier to drink. While not yet a perfect whisky, it certainly shows that experimentation has more than paid off for Mark Littler and Hellyers Road.

★★★