LIQUORICE IN THE TAR – Score: 2/10
Ever wondered what a freshly resurfaced road would taste like if someone dropped a bag of liquorice sticks on it? Wonder no more. Octomore is Bruichladdich’s deliberately extreme experiment on Islay, the series that set out to push peat levels higher than anyone thought sensible, and the 09.1 edition — a young five-year-old, bottled at cask strength with a phenol count of around 156 ppm — keeps that promise with an almost alarming sincerity.
The nose is pure roadworks. Hot tar and thick smoke come first, followed by a waxy, paraffin note, like a candle that has been burning a little too close to the engine. Underneath, a black liquorice and aniseed sweetness tries bravely to make itself heard, alongside something rough and woody, reminiscent of damp tree bark.
On the palate the peat does not so much arrive as take over the whole street. Tar and smoke dominate, the liquorice adding a sticky, medicinal sweetness that never quite integrates, while the wood and bark bring a bitter, drying edge. The finish is long — very long — but mostly in the way a traffic jam is long: smoky, tarry and leaving you wondering how you got there.
Peat fanatics who chase the biggest numbers may well find their holy grail here, and the craftsmanship behind Octomore deserves respect. For us, though, the balance simply is not there: too much road, not enough whisky. A bold idea, an honest bottle, but one we will gladly leave to the asphalt crews.
