The Basics:

Character: Weird–herbal, dry, briney, with notes of motor oil.

Score: 94/100

The details:

Speyside’s only coastal distillery, Inchgower has been quietly plugging along in the town of Buckie (in fact, it was once briefly owned by the town!), since 1871. It is part of the vast and sprawling Diageo portfolio, and like the majority of their distilleries, it is used mainly to fill blends. Inchgower has a long association with the Bell’s blend, predating the acquisition of both by what is now Diageo.

Serious whisky enthusiasts tend to bash on Diageo, and a lot of the bashing is fair–most of their single malt offerings are overpriced, and increasingly out of touch with what serious whisky enthusiasts want. It’s a shame they aren’t still doing more stuff like the Manager’s Choice range, which released around 2009 or thereabouts, and offered slightly off-kilter cask strength takes on every distillery in their vast portfolio, from stars like Lagavulin and Talisker, to relatively obscure distilleries like Inchgower and Glenlossie. 

Inchgower is readily available in independent bottlings, and it’s not uncommon for an indie to throw it on some sherry wood. The only regular proprietary bottling, from the Flora and Fauna range is tasty and intriguing stuff, but it has obviously logged its 14 years in some rather tired refill bourbon casks. Not so with this beast from the Manager’s Choice range which was clearly matured in a very fresh, not to say aggressive, not to say abrasive sherry cask. Inchgower’s typical austerity and salinity are in the mix, but they’re also vying with a viscosity one doesn’t usually associate with the distillery, and strong notes of herbal liqueur–think Cynar or maybe even Fernet Branca. It’s some truly weird stuff, and I’m honestly I’m not sure I’ve ever tasted another whisky with anything quite like this bizarre character. This is absolutely not a crowd pleaser, and if you’re looking for “smooth” this stuff is going to give your tongue a good thrashing, but it earns many points in my book for being so damned weird. Also, Diageo is notoriously bad at being transparent on practices like coloring and chillfiltration, but I tend to read “natural cask strength” as Diageo speak for what enthusiasts would call “integrity presentation”; my guess is that this stuff is unchillfiltered and natural color along with being cask strength, but not entirely sure on that.

Inchgower 1993 (~16 years old), Manager’s Choice, 61.9% abv

Tasting notes:

Nose: Dry, almost caustic. Crude oil. Low tide. Gunpowder. Huge hit of alcohol and brine—sundried tomatoes in brine. There’s even a slight hint of heavy, beef broth meatiness. Smoked, salted kippers. A touch of Lapsang Souchong tea. Complex. Bitter herbs. Incense. Boiled vegetables—broccoli?

Body: Remarkably full and rich; oily, viscous.

Palate: The Inchgower austerity is there, but in a new form. Explosively sherried but backed by a dry, albeit heavy spirit. Burnt. Motor oil. Charred beef fat. Blackberry cobbler. Very dirty Martini in the front palate. Herbal liqueur—green Chartreuse and Fernet Branca.

Finish: Deceptively long—first fading and drying, and then there’s a burst of sand and bitter root. Raw potato?

Score: 94/100

Who should buy it?: Lovers of Macallan and other “smooth” single malts need not apply. If you want to rough and tumble your taste buds, though, this is definitely worth a whirl if you can find it.

Overall thoughts: Some really, really, deeply strange single malt. It almost feels as though someone actually blended a malt whisky with an herbal liqueur, and the result is (to my taste, at least) far more successful than anyone could guess. Intriguing and definitely an experience.

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