Octomore 10.3 Super-Heavily Peated Islay Single Malt Scotch Whisky, 70cl

Product Information

The Octomore 10.1 expression, therefore, is an example of a very modest approach to whisky-making. What would happen if you take Scottish barley, distill it, and have it mature on ex- American oak casks for 5years? Well, you get an expression which is a benchmark. It's simple. It's very tasty. It's salty, smoky (duh), and blessed with a pleasant oily texture. There is no burning sensation in the mouth. Instead, there is a gentle simmer. It's a cleanser of the mouth lining.

According to the press release the Octomore 10s are an exploration of the realms of ‘softer smoke’. In the case of Octomore, that sounds like a weird statement. While maybe a little less so than some predecessors, these Octomore are still extremely heavily peated compared to anything else that is currently available on the marketplace. Just look at the stats below. If we decide not to exercise or enforce any right or provision of these Terms, such decision shall not constitute a waiver of such right or provision. Finish: long but somehow less than the others. Hints of burnt rosemary, kippers and lean peat smoke.Dismissing the numbers, the makers ask even the most knowledgeable to forget everything they think they know and experience the liquid for themselves.”

Softer smoke? When nosing, absolutely. The smoke often is a supporting player, leaving room for many other aromas. On the palate though, the smoke is much more prevalent. And on the whole, these Octomore 10s are obviously still amongst the most smoky whiskies in the world.

The Highlight Reel!

Islay is far from the ideal place to grow barley. This small Hebridean island off the west coast of Scotland is usually cold, windswept, salt-washed, rain-sodden and/or overcast, which aside from other problems & challenges results in lower yields, which means less income for the farmer, and less barley for the distillery. But the use of Islay-grown barley is a choice that goes beyond such considerations - remember that out of nine distilleries only Bruichladdich and Kilchoman are doing this - and is more about provenance and terroir, the use of local ingredients, a sense of place, and also a sense of community. It is easier, cheaper and more efficient to use barley sourced from the Scottish mainland, or even other countries, and that is far & away what the majority of Scottish distilleries are doing. The idea of using Islay-grown barley in heavily peated whiskies like Octomore gets even further away from that efficiency and financial pressure, since such high peating levels make it more difficult to detect any overt differences in the finished product that are (or may be) due to the barley itself. But there's no arguing with the provenance provided by the use of locally grown barley. While Islay barley varieties of both Bruichladdich and Port Charlotte use barley grown on a number of different farms on the island, the distillery takes this a step further with their Octomore Islay barley bottlings, sourcing the barley from a single field from one single Islay farm - James Brown's Octomore farm, once home to the Octomore Distillery that was the inspiration for the name of this super-heavily peated single malt.

Parcel 2 was filled into ex-American oak and transferred to Cabernet Sauvignon barriques from the Saint Julien region – 75% I’ve tasted virgin oak Octomore before – in fact, I had a secret one, which I talked about here– and it does amuse me to see the new wave of whisky folk, eagerly engaging with the community, still surprised at such specimens as virgin oak. It’s probably not surprising when you think about it, given the awful cask being shoved around the industry at the moment. Someone recently said to me that a colleague of theirs had been offered a seventh – yes, SEVENTH, I kid you not – fill cask. (What kind of world are we living in when this is doing the rounds, will inevitably be bottled, and some folk will be sitting there nosing the glass thinking yes I spent money on this?) Indeed, fans will know by now that their beloved Ochdamh-mòr has so many faces. Once a straightforward peat monster, its sole purpose of subverting expectations has turned it into an entirely different beast. With the Octomore 10 Series, we basically have U2 going through its Achtung Baby–Zooropa phase.

Octomore 10.3 – Aged 6 Years – 61.3% ABV – 114 PPM

Distillery: .Salt on the lips and more honey and lemon on the palate, then the peat sweeps in with the oak and heat from the high strength. Deeper flavours from the spirit, pear and gooseberry are more defined and richer. In the mouth: yes, as expected, quite a blast of woody vanilla with that peat actually now rivalling the wood. Coffee and burnt toast, perhaps a shade bitter. Charcoal. A heady damson chutney, full of brown sugar. HP sauce. Burnt toffee. Caramel. Kind of fun, perhaps too much to make a point, but this was never something that was about balance, complexity and so on. Balcones Brimstone fans will find much to enjoy. Score: 6/10 Conclusions At 56,9% ABV, you can expect a strong expression, ready to put some hair on your chest. Or so you might think. While I tasted this expression, I experienced smoky flavours, combined with the sweetness of late autumn honey. There is a delicate burn, which is unexpected for a cask strength whisky. The smoky flavours crept up nicely into my nose as well. The 10.3 Islay Barley, as the name suggests, gets its malt from Islay itself – from local farmer James Brown’s 2012 harvest. This bottle also marks the first time that the .3 in the range breaks from the 5-year maturation; 10.3 spends six years in ex-bourbon casks and alongside the casks that held 10.1 – so this is an interesting side by side. Literally. And indeed it doesn’t disappoint: for whatever reason, this is a 10.1 that is far more intense on all fronts, with a distinct earthy character at its core.

In the mouth: less forthcoming than the nose, though the ABV does assist; a nice chewy texture as is the way with Bruichladdich. Vanilla indeed, with some warming ginger and cinnamon. The oiliness – industrial, dirty rather than ashy peat – is pleasing indeed. Smoked kippers in traces, with toffee, maple syrup; mossy, earthy, and really all rather well balanced. Score: 7/10 Octomore 10.2 – Aged 8 Years – 56.9% ABV – 96.9 PPM On the nose: lovely: gentle vanilla over a toasted, buttery, linseed oil note. Malted milk biscuits. Iodine – traces of diesel oil. Chestnut mushrooms, a little hemp; baked apples in syrup. A hint of ginger. Mouth: very salty now, definitely the most maritime of the series. A more oily texture as well. A hint of tart berries and lemons. It’s less peaty but what’s left is more heathery and medicinal, whereas 11.1 seemed to revolve around warm mainland peat more. Some TCP, a slightly numbing peppery feel as well. Oak spice towards the end. Nose: Surprisingly light and subtle with notes of barley husks, wood smoke and a touch of sour beer, but also liquorice root. After a little while apple peel, vanilla custard and almond paste take over and don’t let go of the wheel.

Octomore 10 Year Old 2009 (54,3%, OB 2020, fourth edition, 208 ppm, 12000 btl.)

The series has gone through many changes and the only consistent rule seems to be: there are rules but we’ll make them up as we go along and change them whenever we like. While Bruichladdich and Port Charlotte leave their experiments as one-offs, it’s just another day in the office for the Octomores. However, no longer are Bruichladdich intent on turning the peat dial past 11 and this batch of Octomores are perhaps the most gentle monsters they have released. And if their almost-regular blind tasting sessions are anything to go by, you can more or less throw any prior knowledge out the window. The Octomore 10.4 stands out, mostly because of the unusual profile. I’m not sure if I would call it a success, on the other hand, a score in the mid-80s after three years of ageing is pretty damn good. I doubt longer maturation in the same wood type would enhance this whisky though. Even at such a young age it probably is at its peak. The dry oak is very much already present. First, what I do with all the Bruichladdich series at the moment, is to mix them all in one glass, just to see if the different cask types, vintages, peating levels and so on can contribute to something greater, more complex. And yes, it does: massively so in fact. A dash of the virgin oak brings plenty of colour too, not to mention another dimension, so use it sparingly. But then again, that’s perhaps the point as I raised above: a dash, no more, to give some ruddiness to its cheeks. Taste:Rich as Midas and as full bodied as the outer layer of a Matryoshka doll. White pepper, soot, fruity ashes, wood smoke, vanilla thunderstorms with citrus lightning and peat clouds. Nose: Vanilla and marzipan with beach pebbles, crème brûlée and fudge. Somewhat herbal at times (rosemary), and the charred lemon peel is certainly a nice touch. Nice salinity too, but also notes of wood smoke and seaweed.