Lagavulin was my Dad’s favourite whisky. It’s the one he most often lifted from the old Monk’s Bench when he trained me to drink whisky through my late teens and early twenties. So it’s no surprise that I inherited a love of this beautiful Islay malt.
It’s consistently in my top 3, and consistently good, even at only 12 years old. I’ll state the obvious and say I prefer the 16, the 18 and the 21 year olds. Which was a big factor in choosing my most obscenely expensive whisky of the week (review coming on Friday).
But if you’re a whisky drinker and you don’t have a bottle of Lagavulin in your Monk’s Bench (or whatever it is you keep your bottles in), then that’s a serious gap in your offering.
It’s an Islay, so it has a lovely smokey aroma, the peaty flavour you expect, but neither assault you like the heavier tones of, for instance, a Jura.
It’s eminently drinkable, you can sit washing it around in your glass as you chat, filling your head with the warm fireside, woodsmoke aroma. You can sip and let the flavour spread over your tongue and the inside of your cheeks – and just a small sip will fill your mouth with flavour. Or you can take good solid mouthfuls and swallow it down, heating your throat without any risk of pulling a whisky face (unless you’re a big girl’s blouse, of course).
The best part is in the morning, when you come downstairs, clear headed and see how little is left in the bottle. That’s how easy Lagavulin is to drink – you don’t notice how much your drinking that evening, and you don’t get reminded in the morning.
Buy. Never be without it.
- Monday: Singleton – 28 year old
- Tuesday: Lagavulin – 12 year old
- Wednesday: Bunnahabhain – 25 year old
- Thursday: Highland Park
- Friday: Lagavulin – 37 Year Old