
Origin: Highlands (Scotland)
Type: Single Malt Scotch Whisky
Strength: 47.5%ABV
Ageing casks: Ex-Sherry Oloroso
Chillfiltered: No
Added colouring: No
Owner: Morrison Distillers
Average price: € 80.00
Official website: www.carnmorwhisky.co.uk
Vote: 87/100
The opportunity to taste a Blair Athol whisky branded Càrn Mòr is tempting to us for at least a couple of reasons: the first is that Blair Athol’s distillate, which generally seems rather undervalued, we particularly like; the second is that Càrn Mòr is, without skirting around it, one of our favourite independent bottlers, particularly in its Strictly Limited series, to which today’s proposal belongs, which boasts an astounding (and, in times of skyrocketing price increases, very welcome) quality/price ratio.
Distilled in 2008 and bottled in 2021, in its natural colour and without chillfiltration, at 47.5%, in 1062 bottles, the whisky we pour into the glass has been matured in former oloroso sherry casks and is still available.
Tasting notes
The colour is bright amber.
On the nose, we are greeted by a rather intense caramel effluvium, followed by notes of nuts, walnuts in particular, while a very specific balsamic hint seems to give breath to the aromas. An impression of sultanas is matched by one of malaga, while the spicy side, in the guise of pepper and nutmeg, arrives at a gentle pace. A herbaceous vagueness in the background embraces the whole with regard.
The mouthfeel is spicy, before sultanas, caramel and hazelnut tune into a typically Sherried harmony. One can sense how the strength, which is entirely appropriate, contributes to the overall sensation of balance: there are no taste peaks and the palate is evenly enveloped. But the body is not light, on the contrary: at times the whisky seems almost chewy. A rather suggestive memory of old woodshed goes hand in hand with a hint of orange peel.
The medium-long finish is shyly spicy and intensely caramel-like, with touches of wood and orange peel, and an impromptu foray of apricot.
A whisky that communicates a sense of fatness and, at the same time, composure. A composure that we call austerity, because of the old-fashioned grace with which it proposes itself. The markers of ageing in oloroso sherry are all there, and without surprises, but in the right measure, for a dram that we do not hesitate to define as exemplary.
