Clynelish 10 Year (2010) Single Malts of Scotland

Review by: TOModera

What was the occasion: Many weeks ago, or years, or decades (time lost all meaning a few years ago), I poured this as part of a tasting.

The reaction was… intense. While I typically like to review all the same whiskies from one distillery at a time, it piqued my interest, so I moved this up ahead.

What whisky did we review? Clynelish 10 2010 Single Malts of Scotland is a single bottling of Clynelish from the Single Malts of Scotland line, which is under Elixir Distillers. I better post this soon, or given the way companies are buying one another I’ll have to add another three paragraphs.

Shit, does Sony own them now? No? Good, I need time to edit.

This single-cask ex-bourbon whisky came my way when my whisky friends had too many bottles they wanted and then their jets required new upholstery, so I stepped in and took the bullet.

Only half of that was a joke, btw.

What’s the distillery? Clynelish dates back to 1819, albeit in a different location. There was actually two Clynelish, one called A and the other called B, due to the amount of blends being sold in the 60s. So B was larger, they made sure B made whisky equivalent to A, and then closed A. But then Caol Ila shut down due to drought, so they reopened A, calling it Brora and making peated whisky.

Then everyone clapped or something, I don’t know, my view of history has been burnt out by the internet. If I was talking about Brora, we’d continue. Suffice to say, we have Clynelish now, as Brora eventually closed down.

Wait, Brora is coming back. Well we’re talking about Clynelish today, Brora tomorrow.

What’s my bias? I can’t taste the flavour of wax. I can’t smell it well either. It’s a blind spot. I know it is. Well, I didn’t before, what with my penchant for not drinking candles, or somehow worse, chocolate easter eggs. So when I started drinking Scotch and writing reviews, I tried Clynelish and didn’t know what to think. I wasn’t impressed. There was some honey, but not as much as Balvenie.

Only later did I make a fool of myself repeatedly and find out that, in fact, I didn’t taste the waxiness. That said, Clynelish has had some changes in the past few years, and in the time since I’ve realized I can appreciate parts of Clynelish, all while realizing those parts are typically the casks they’ve been in.

But that’s me from 9-ish years ago, which according to people who don’t subscribe to the Ship of Theseus, is dead and replaced with me, a totally immortal version who has no existential terror. Let’s see how I enjoy it, shall we?

Distillery: Clynelish Distillery.

Bottler: Elixir Distillers.

Region: Highland, Scotch.

ABV: 60.3%. Cask strength.

Age: 10 years. Distilled September 24, 2010. Bottled January 21 2021.

Cask type: Barrel.

Price: € 150 (EUR).

Color: 7.5Y 9/6.

Nose: Persimmon, wax, floral, hairspray, sweet tart candies

The nose is nice, and wait… there’s a lot of wax if I can’t find wax on it. It’s a bit alcohol forward, which shouldn’t surprise anyone when drinking butane strength whiskies. Tropical fruit, bit floral though hard to pick out a specific flower, and some sweet candy/chalk notes. Water calms it a tad.

Taste: Butterscotch, lemonade, brine, apple sauce

What in the sweet hell? You know when someone calls you over to whisper, you lean in, and they yell? That’s what happens between the nose and taste. Whispering at the start, full on metal concert on the taste.

Nothing is subtle here. It’s all caps, as if the caps lock button was somehow turned up to 11 and then you just scream until you die. FRUIT! ACIDITY! BUTTERSCOTCH! SALT! That’s it. Water tries to calm it down, but I feel like I’m back teaching an octogenarian to send emails. Wow this is strong. 

Finish: Grapefruit, vanilla, mineral, cloves, peach

You hope that the finish is as quiet as the nose, with the taste being a fluke. You’d be wrong, but you hope. No, the finish somehow keeps the volume as high, though the floral is closer to vanilla, the spice is less integrated. Still very fruity, still so insane it believes the moon ate Dinosaur Jesus or whatever Republicans believe now.

It’s intense. You breathe fire when you drink it.

Conclusion: Pure insanity. Is it complex? Not really, though beyond the nose the strong alcohol isn’t that noticeable, coming off as warming spices. Granted that warmth may be causing heat fluctuations across the solar system. 

It’s like someone took Clynelish and made it for the tongue equivalent of the hard of hearing, which as one of those people (when it comes to Clynelish and wax), I appreciate.

Will you be drinking this? Maybe. I think Clynelish fans will love it. I think whisky nerds will love it too. I think non-whisky fans and non-Clynelish fans will describe it as a nightmare. Decide which you’d like to be before buying.

Final Score: 80.

Scoring Legend:

  • 95-100: As good as it gets. Jaw-dropping, eye-widening, unforgettable whisky.
  • 90-94: Sublime, a personal favorite in its category.
  • 85-89: Excellent, a standout dram.
  • 80-84: Quite good. Quality stuff.
  • 75-79: Decent whisky worth tasting.
  • 70-74: Meh. It’s definitely drinkable, but it can do better.
  • 60-69: Not so good. I might not turn down a glass if I needed a drink.
  • 50-59: Save it for mixing.
  • 0-49: Blech.

Leave a comment