Last Night's Tipple

Like most other Scotch distilleries, Bowmore has had some very hard times in its past and has more than once barely escaped being shut down forever. It is the oldest remaining distillery on Islay and in fact was the first licensed distillery on the island, founded in the town of Bowmore, which came into being in the late 18th Century when the island's laird evicted the residents of town of Bridgend to make room for his Versailles-style gardens, leasing them land in Bowmore in compensation. The distillery's first heyday was during the middle of the 19th Century. A disputed sale in 1894, mismanagement, depression, and two world wars produced an extended run of bad times that lasted until the Morrison family bought Bowmore in 1963 and began something of a revival, one of the most significant aspects of which was the hiring of Jim McEwan, who eventually rose to be the distillery manager. The Morrisons sold out to Suntory, the Japanese spirits conglomerate, and Suntory has not been bashful about giving Bowmore the financial resources that it needs to be successful.

Bowmore's malt is peated to 25 parts per million phenols, which means that it is significantly less peaty than Ardbeg, Laphroaig, or Caol Ila. Its bread-and-butter bottling, Legend, is also younger than most other Islay regular bottlings: 8 years old. Since peatiness decreases with age, I would guess that Legend competes in peatiness with the others, though. I purchased the sherry-finished bottling that Bowmore calls Darkest. Late last year, Bowmore decided to rationalize their lineup, which meant that they eliminated some bottlings and changed the age range for others. As part of this they moved Darkest from a 12 year old to a 15 year old. I'm almost positive that I have one of the older bottlings, though, because it has gold instead of copper on the label (and as part of the rationalization, Bowmore also changed the labels to use copper instead of gold printing). It is indeed very dark for a Scotch. At first, though, the nose is all peat. After a while, though, the peat burns off to reveal sherry-like sweetness and nuttiness. I had wondered how I would like the combination of savory and sweet that a sherried Islay malt would figure to have, and the answer is that I like it a good deal.