Aberlour 16 Year Old
Sometimes I feel like Aberlour is my Achilles’ heel. I know their whisky isn’t the most complex, and yet something keeps drawing me back. I can never quite put my finger on it. Deep down, I know I could do better… and still I return. Today we’re looking at one of the older (and pricier) expressions in their core range - the 16 year old. Last year I tried the 14 year old and came away a little underwhelmed. Let’s see if this one fares any better.
Bottle
I must sound like a broken record on this site, but the Aberlour bottle design is, for me, the best in the industry. It’s bold to make such a sweeping claim, but I honestly believe it. The thick glass around the neck, the slightly short, sturdy shape, the subtle embossing, even the label colour choices — they all combine perfectly. The 16 year old fits right into the family, with its green accents giving it a classy edge. I love it.
Colour
If the bottle is the pre-sip high point, the colour is the disappointment. For a whisky that typically retails north of £100, bottling at just 40%, chill-filtering, and adding colouring feels almost criminal. The mahogany hue is certainly attractive, but sadly meaningless given its artificial nature.
Nose - Raisins soaked in brandy for Christmas pudding. That’s the instant memory this dram conjures. Deep, rich dried fruits, steeped in alcohol, promising indulgence.
Palate - The palate doesn’t quite live up to the nose. It’s lighter than expected, with some pepperiness and plenty of oak from the casks. There’s no harshness from the alcohol — which makes sense at 40% — but it also leaves the dram feeling a little thin. I wanted a full-bodied, fruity dram, but the sweetness and richness are muted, dialled back rather than turned up.
Finish - A medium-length finish, carrying plenty of pepper and spice, lingering on the tongue but not quite delivering the depth you hope for after that rich nose.
Overall
Aberlour feels like an old flame I should have moved on from. I know there are better matches out there, but I can’t help coming back. And once again, the story repeats itself: the beautiful bottle raises my expectations, the first sip fills me with hope, and yet by the time my glass is empty, I feel a little embarrassed.
At around £115, this is an expensive whisky (I was fortunate to pick mine up for £75), and I struggle to justify the price. Is it better than the 14, which itself edges out the 12? Yes, but only marginally. I’m glad I bought it, and glad I tried it, but it won’t be making a return appearance on my shelf.
Typically available for around £110