Clynelish 14

The Maker

As distilleries go few have had as interesting a history as Clynelish. Indeed, the distillery we now know as Clynelish isn’t even the original Clynelish, and is instead the result of an attempt reconcile various HM Customs & Excise regulations in the late 1960s. The origin of the distillery can be found in 1819 in the tiny coastal village of Brora near the north-eastern tip of Scotland - about 60 miles south of John O’Groats. Legend has it that the then Marquis of Stafford, once done with ‘clearing’ that part of the Highlands, established the distillery to add value to his barley crop, and to put an end to the local illicit distillation smugglers.

But regardless of his motivations at the time, Clynelish whisky was an immediate success and unlike many whiskies of its era survived as a successful single malt - as we would currently understand it - rather than simply as a whisky made for blending by various local greengrocers and traders of the day. This description now feels somewhat ironic given its current role as a cornerstone of the Johnnie Walker empire.

The distillery remained a success throughout the 19th Century and it was only the dual disruptions of world wars and prohibition that eventually caused it to close its doors. While there was some recovery post-war under the ownership of Distillers Company Ltd (DCL) that would eventually become Diageo, it was not until 1967 that a big change occurred when the decision was taken to construct a new distillery across the road. This new distillery was also to be called Clynelish, and was designed to be a near perfect replica of Diageo’s equally successful Caol Ila distillery on Islay. This similarity was to extend further than just looks with the new distillery producing a more peated whisky, while the old one stuck to the traditional Highlands profile. Apparently, rather than change the name, DCL decided to try and run these two operations as a single distillery, known as Clynelish A and B. This understandably upset HM Customs & Excise, and no doubt the rather easily irked Scotch Whisky Association, who decided this would not be appropriate for a multitude of reasons. The result was the original distillery closing down in 1969, before reopening as Brora in the early 1970s. The new Brora (or old Clynelish depending on how you want to describe it) continued to make a more peated whisky for blenders well into the 1980s before closing down for good. It today makes up some of the Clynelish site, including several warehouses and a rather large visitors centre. There’s a lot of confusion as to the precise order of events in this period, but buried within that confusion, there appears to be the decision for the new site to switch from that newer peated style to instead continue the traditional Clynelish approach in perpetuity. In the years since Clynelish has mostly become known as being a Diageo workhorse distillery pumping out millions of litres for Johnnie Walker blends, much like the Caol Ila distillery it was modelled on. Yet unlike Caol Ila, drinkers have not been permitted to experience as vast a range of independent bottlings that show off Clynelish in all of its various permutations. While hardly a week goes by without another Caol Ila hitting the shelves, independent bottlings of Clynelish are becoming increasingly rare (and rumour has it cask sales have now stopped completely). All of which means that when they appear they are much sort after, with prices of some now registering in the thousands. The Expression All of which brings me to this bottling. The 14yo was launched in 2002 as the first official bottling from Clynelish for decades – if not living memory at that point! It’s released at a healthy 46% (unusual for Diageo, and perhaps a suggestion that they do appreciate the history of this distillery more than others in their core release slate), yet makes no mention of chill-filtration or added colour on the label. From the taste and appearance it's clear that it has endured quite a lot of both. There’s little else to distinguish it on the label, given Diageo’s odd policy of saying as little as possible about its products on the bottle. Yet wider research will confirm that it’s matured exclusively in ex-bourbon oak. The Neck Pour The first comment you always read about the Clynelish 14yo is how waxy it is. Until trying some I was unsure what was meant by this. Do people mean the nose or the taste? Can it really be that strong, or is it some massive delusion through the power of suggestion? For what it’s worth there is definitely something akin to wax paper on the nose. But I can’t help but wonder if it’s really there or not. Either way it isn’t very strong. What is strong however is the green apple on the nose. This is quickly followed by plenty of familiar vanilla and cinnamon. In short it seems very sweet. This is only added to by those traditional honey notes. There's also plenty of citrus, along with a strong floral note of heather & lavender. The taste however is less interesting. It strikes me as very sweet initially but then there's a hint of char that follows the arrival and turns out to be very pleasant. What’s more interesting is the texture. It’s a pleasantly creamy, yet rather homogenised spirit. There is a tiny bit of bitterness in there as well which has a drying effect on my palate. It’s both unusual and enjoyable. I can see lots of potential in this which is probably why it’s so often talked about as a staple of so many whisky collections. The Body The wax paper is much stronger after several months on the shelf, along with the dried heather/lavender and vanilla. In contrast the green apple has receded. What’s new is a hint of something much sweeter and fruity, maybe even an apricot jam, or perhaps even marmalade. The taste is still far simpler that I’d like. Lots of basic vanilla and honeyed notes but it has retained that odd thick and waxy texture somewhere between extra thick double cream and Babybel wrapping. This is still nice, but not really maturing in the interesting ways I had hoped for. Final Thoughts Coming back to this many months later I can’t claim to find anything additional to what I’ve described thus far. It’s a nice dram but I find myself enjoying it less as it’s gone on. Maybe it’s just a bit more boring than lots of other things on the shelf at the moment. Equally it remains a pleasant enough and accessible whisky. It’s also rather cheap when purchased on offer. I believe I got this on one of those Amazon Prime deals of under £30 when it currently retails around £45. Given the amount of excitement around Clynelish more generally I’ve managed to get hold of a sample of an independent bottling from Simply Whisky to compare it to. I’m not the kind of person who finds 3cl enough to give a fair review, but for purposes of contrast it’s nonetheless interesting. At 51.6%, single cask, and 8 years old, the Simply Whisky offering is a very different proposition from the mass produced 14yo. That strikes you immediately on the nose and leaves you an overall much fresher experience. There's so much citrus it’s almost edging towards an air freshener. It’s also even sweeter, like a strong lemon sherbet. Unlike the core release this really delivers upon the nose and the additional strength gives it the kick it needs. It’s a world away and very intense. It ends up being rather sharp and acidic like an unsweetened fruit compote, but not enough to make it unpleasant. Going back and forth between them does the core release no favours. Instead it makes me all the more appreciate the fine work that’s going on at Clynelish, but also disappoints me that we are not getting that from Diageo. That’s hardly an original observation sadly. But it does remind me once again to focus on the independent offerings from other distilleries in their stable.