Welcome to another fine side-by-side whisky tasting, although I doubt that you will be randomly landing here from a search via the internet – it’s not like “English Whisky” or “Staoisha” are some of the most popular keywords. I feel like I could be writing about unique whisky for years, and yet, most of my readership is still only interested in Johnnie Walker and The Macallan. Oh, well. Do you know who reads these words the most? I do! So this is mostly for me, as a real [b]log of my tastings, and if you happen to appreciate this and even learn something new along the way, well, there is yet another purpose. Up for battle today is a dram from behind door #9 in That Boutique-y Whisky Company Advent Calendar from 2022, which I pair with, what I hope to be a strong contender, a dram from a bottle of whisky I purchased only a month ago from The Whisky Shop on Piccadilly in London. I’ll tell you more about it, but first, we need music! Now Playing: William Basinski – Variations For Piano & Tape.

Right, let me pour both of these drams into my Glencairn glasses first, and we’ll cover a bit of the background. Alrighty then! The English Whisky is not just a descriptor for this single malt, but it is indeed the name of this bottle from TBWC, more specifically, Batch 4, coming from St. George’s Distillery in Norfolk, on England’s east coast. But, yes, this is indeed an English whisky (as opposed to Scotch whisky). This little guy in my glass is charging me with 67% ABV, and it is heavily peated, uncoloured, non-chill filtered whisky that will probably knock my socks off if I drink it without water. Whenever I touch the glass where some of the liquid has spilt, my fingers smell like woodfire smoke. Should I even try it neat at 67%? I don’t know about that, folks. Let me look at my trustworthy dilution calculator, and see what it would take to bring it down to 50 or even 48. Right, I think I need to add about 11ml of water to get this 30ml to be drinkable. But obviously, if I overdo it, there is no going back. I’ll add a capful and see how it goes. Ooh, the nose became ashy, but there is still plenty of sherry there, I can tell. It’s got a nice amber glow from the ex-oloroso casks. OK, let’s have a tiny sip. Ah, pretty punchy and definitely young. In fact, it arrives okay, a little sharp, then sherried, then smoke, and it is the finish that hits me with the alcohol, as it goes down and burns my guts [I couldn’t think of a nicer word than that]. I’ll let it sit a bit, and yeah, I will give it another splash to see how this dragon settles (yes, there is a dragon on that label). I am not here to self-inflict the pain.

Staoisha is a name for a heavily peated Bunnahabhain, the way Octamore is for a heavily peated Bruichladdich. Does that make sense? I have a few of these in my collection and love each one in turn. This is a Regent Street independent bottling of a 9-year-old whisky, finished in an octave, presumably uncoloured and non-chill filtered [it doesn’t say so on the bottle, but I’d be shocked if they ruined it], at cask strength of 50%. On the label, it says that they are “curators of the finest cask spirits”, so this appears to be a bottle directly from the cask. I had this one about a month ago, and it was then divine. Let’s see if I remember. Ah, less smoke, more saltiness and some of that hidden peat [like on a young Octomore] mixed with the sweetness of that [sherried?] octave cask, like a sweet bbq sauce spread over salty, smoky ribs. I will not lie – that got me hungry. An absolutely splendid dram, and, honestly, I wouldn’t really want it older – the nine years of its life is holding on to all that smoke that dissipates in older peated bottlings. But let’s return now to the English! Sweeter, smoother arrival, but then the sharpness of a young spirit cuts right through. It’s very strange – while I’m still tasting the fullness of the sherried malt in my mouth, it feels like someone sprayed hot fire on the back of my throat. The experience is new, unique, and complex, but I don’t think it’s pleasant. I’ll add a bit more water to this dram. My palate’s ruined – I no longer can decipher the smoke. OK, it’s better with more water, rounder even, but now it does feel like the water has put out the fire. Whereas, when I return to Stoisha, the bite is there, in all the right places, but not the burn.

Name	The English Whisky	Staoisha
Distillery / Region	St. George’s Distillery / England	Bunnahabhain / Islay
Bottler / Series	TBWC / Wine Cask Series	Regent Street / ?
Stated Age / Vintage	9 years old / 2012	9 years old / 2012
Cask type	Oloroso Sherry Cask	? + Octave
ABV / Cask Strength	67.0% / Yes!	50% / Yes!
Non-chill filtered/ Uncoloured	Yes / Yes 🌟	Yes? / Yes? 🌟
Price	£80 – but for a 50cl!	£88
Did it win? / Did I like it?	No / Not sure – too much wrestling	Yes / Yes
Would I buy it? / Recommend it?	No / No for all same reasons	Yes – probably will get another! / Yes!

So there you have it, folks, another fantastic tasting. Okay, The English was a monster with its ABV, but once I brought it down, did I like the taste? I do think it’s a lovely single malt, but all the fight with its bottled-up angst made it feel like work, and once I got it docile and it purred like a kitten, well, then, the fire was gone as well. Does that make sense? It was too hot and then too timid. Perhaps I missed a mark somewhere on the spectrum. Whereas the Staoisha didn’t need to be wrestled with. A bit of water to open up the flavours got it to sing on the outside like a vicious, throat-grabbing bulldog, but on the inside, the sweetest pup you know. So, with that said, I’ll pause here and proclaim the Staoisha as the winner of this round, but I hope to try out more from Regent Street again!

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p.s. that Basinski record was a little bit too much. It just stopped playing, but not in my head…

p.p.s. I took a nice 15-minute long break and came back to The English (the diluted version left at the bottom of my Glencairn), and yes, the peat is there once again. It’s very nice. I have to say, I like it very much. But it does taste watery and ethanol-strong all at the same time. No “meatiness” there, you see? The flavour is great, but it’s not hanging on. The Staoisha feels like a better-integrated malt, and even though, in other tastings, The English could have possibly won, it didn’t stand against the same-aged [and much cheaper] Staoisha.