Caol Ila Natural Cask Strength

As I progress into my fifth or sixth year of enjoying and collecting scotch whisky, I find myself drawn to more extreme single malts and blends. It's as if I require everything to be turned up to the maximum before it truly ignites my enthusiasm most days: cask strength Macallans, Ardbegs, Laphroiags, etc., are now my preference. So, when I encountered these NAS Natural Cask Strength Caol Ila bottles at auction, I quickly consulted my spreadsheet to see if I had previously tried the peated version of the full strength Caol Ilas. I know I've sampled several of the limited release, unpeated versions, and they range from mediocre to quite good. However, Caol Ila is always characterized by salty peat and citrus (much like a fine Talisker). I needed to experience these. Consequently, I ended up paying $108 each for a pair of Caol Ila Natural Cask Strength bottles from 2015. Yes, I overpaid slightly, but I felt it was necessary to have them in my collection. These specific batch releases were bottled at a robust 59.3%, and I acquired them in the spring from Scotch Whisky Auctions (based in Glasgow). They possess a pale yellow hue (with no added color or chill filtration) and create some translucent, fast-moving, thick legs, leaving behind numerous tiny droplets on the rim of a clean Glencairn glass. The nose delivers a powerful burst of sea spray, peppery spice, and alcohol. Initially, I suspected they had filled two-thirds of each bottle with whisky directly from the still and the remaining portion with ocean water from the adjacent coast. This is the most maritime nose I believe I have ever encountered in any dram. Mineral-infused peat drifts around the glass, appearing and disappearing as if on a timer. Time does not diminish it; it simply permeates the environment where you are drinking with the essence of coastal Scotland. However, that added time did make the palate more, shall we say, palatable. I tasted it soon after pouring and felt as though I had swallowed pure seawater. It was akin to being a child at the beach, riding an inflatable raft into a breaking wave, inadvertently taking in a mouthful of sea foam, and immediately starting to gag and retch. I literally had to catch my breath after that initial sip. Overpowering salt and heat. Fast forward 15-20 minutes of recovery... once the dram settles and cools slightly, you are rewarded with a Clynelish-like waxiness and some light citrus fruits and berries. It still felt incredibly dry and hot, with lingering salt and mineral, earthy peat on the back of the tongue and the recesses of your mouth. The finish remains hot, sharp, and dry. It is more astringent than I had hoped, but it did finally allow the peat to take center stage (it's a late, third act in this dram, but it is present in all its glory). The only sensation left behind is more salt. I actually felt parched after multiple consecutive pours from this bottle; it leaves you thirsty, haha. I did require a substantial Glendronach to conclude my tasting session, and the following morning, I still had a salty aftertaste of Glendronach on my tongue. Overall, this is not my favorite Caol Ila, but it certainly put a smile on my face as I reflect on it while writing this review. This would be my quintessential example of Scotch Whisky Turned Up To 11. I can envision fishermen on Islay drinking this straight from the bottle on their return journey to port after a long day at sea. Something tells me this is their preferred dram. I award it 4 stars and a big, wide smile for this one. If you see this bottle gathering dust and believe you have already experienced the saltiest, most sea-worthy scotch you will ever try... well, prepare to be corrected. Cheers, my friends.

The liquid is a very pale gold. The aroma is surprisingly gentle with the alcohol, allowing the peat and its savory scent to dominate. There's a hint of petit biscuit, vanilla, spice, and apple, with very pronounced maritime notes. It's young but not overwhelming, perhaps a bit too much so. The initial sip has a strong alcohol kick, but it's not harsh. It provides a nice warmth like burning wood, followed by ocean spray with apple, citrus fruits, licorice, and a significant bitter quality. Black pepper is also present. It's not very complex, the aromas remain quite consistent, and it's a little too weak to be considered cask strength. The finish resembles a used ashtray, with pepper, bitter salt, and a medium length.

The Samaroli Wild and Primitive 1998 expression is not listed, so these are my notes for it. It presents citrus, salt, and caramel vanilla with a cask strength burn. Noticeable peat on the nose, tongue, and a woody orange peel finish. It could benefit from more peat to complete the profile.

Wonderful, great aroma. Required water, but stayed consistent after adding it.

Excessive smoke, similar to Ardbeg, but with added oily, malty sweetness.

Salty, smoky, and subtle.