Introduction

This bottle caught my attention for a couple of reasons. First, peated Arran isn’t something I come across often—it’s not the distillery’s usual direction. Second, it was a single cask release bottled at cask strength, which always adds a layer of curiosity. I’ve had some varied experiences with indie Arrans in the past, so I was curious how this one would present its peat. Sometimes young peated whiskies can be harsh or too one-dimensional, but this one promised more depth.

Nose

On the nose, there’s an immediate peat presence, but it’s more herbal and earthy than sharp. It opens up with green leaves and damp hay, followed by a coastal brininess that brings to mind seaweed and salty air. There's also a faint sweetness underneath—something like lemon peel and toasted barley. Given its strength, the alcohol is well-behaved and doesn’t sting. With some time in the glass, I picked up a bit of warm dough, like sourdough rising, mixed with a mossy wood smoke. It doesn’t rush to impress—it unfolds in stages.

Palate

Neat, it’s punchy but controlled. The texture is slightly oily, which I appreciate. Peat greets the palate first, but again it’s not the medicinal or aggressively smoky kind—it leans more herbal, with rosemary and damp mulch. There’s also a bright cereal note and a chalky mineral edge, giving it structure. The briny character from the nose carries through, anchoring the dram. A bitter grapefruit peel emerges mid-palate, adding some tension between sweet and sour. One sip and it’s clear this isn’t the type of peat you'd find in southern Islay—it feels cleaner and more coastal.

Finish

The finish is medium-long with a savoury character. There's a lingering saltiness, followed by burnt herbs and a touch of wax. It dries out in an elegant way—no harsh edges or overbearing cask heat. That restrained, earthy smoke lingers in the back of the throat, along with a final trace of citrus zest. It's the kind of finish that invites another slow sip rather than demanding attention.

Price and Value

Given that this was bottled at full strength from a single bourbon cask and had a decent spell of aging behind it (11 years), I found the price justified. It doesn’t feel like a novelty bottling or gimmick—it delivers on character and complexity. Compared to other peated Island whiskies in similar age brackets, this one holds its own well. I wouldn’t call it a bargain, but it’s not difficult to defend the spend.

Background

This particular bottling was distilled at Arran Distillery in 2011 and spent its entire life in a bourbon cask before being released in 2022 by an independent bottler. Arran generally focuses on unpeated spirit, though they have been experimenting more in recent years (particularly under the “Machrie Moor” label), so a peated single cask like this is a rare showcase. The peat level seemed moderate—nowhere near Islay levels, but enough to mark its presence. It reminded me how flexible Arran’s distillate can be, especially when it’s not masked by heavy sherry influence.

Final Notes

Would I buy this bottle again? Yes, I would—especially if I wanted something coastal and peated without heading straight to Islay. It’s distinctive, balanced, and didn’t feel overworked. Is it suitable for newcomers to peated whisky? I’d say yes—with a bit of patience. The peat here isn’t overpowering, and the flavours are coherent enough for someone easing into this style.

What kind of occasion suits this dram? It works well as a reflective evening pour—something to sit with rather than something social or fast-paced. How does it compare to other Island whiskies? It’s less punchy than Talisker or Ledaig, and more polished than most peated Highland drams. The herbal peat and briny touch give it a unique place in the lineup.