LONGROW RED
Tawny Port Cask Matured (2022)MASH BILL – 100% malted barley
PROOF – 115
AGE – 11 years
DISTILLERY – Springbank (J&A Mitchell)
PRICE – $152 (more commonly ~$180)
WORTH BUYING? – Yes indeed!
Uncorked and tasted in The Year of No Buying (The what? 🔗 here.)

My intro to the legendary Springbank was their standard 10 Year release. I found it to be perfect. I wrestled a bit with what that could possibly even mean. Perfection is a fleeting, subjective condition that defies certainty and risks elitism. Nevertheless, perfect is what I found the Springbank 10 Year to be.
And yet I’ve not felt compelled to buy another bottle. Of course there’s that Year of No Buying commitment I’ve made, which I’m still in the midst of as I write this. But even without my pledge of consumer abstinence, I don’t think I would have picked up another bottle. The gently ashy peat, the salt, fruit, cream and candy notes were all beautifully balanced. No thorns. No wild swings in the flavor profile from pour to pour over the life of the bottle. And so also no surprises, curveballs, or other attention nabbing aspects. Just pure sipping pleasure, easy to enjoy, easy to forget.
Now I know that’s sacrilege to some. But this is me. Perfection, as I perceive it when I do, and whether in whisky or art or some moment in nature or whatever else, is pleasing in the moment and then the moment passes and I move on. The experiences I remember most, and find myself reflecting on most, are those that involve some odd detail, something off, unexpected, aberrant, or extreme. Something that puzzles me. Challenges my expectations. Upsets my understanding of things.


After the Springbank 10 Year I tried the 15 Year. This one I didn’t find as perfectly balanced. It came across more like a spinning top—wobbling steadily around the same flavor patterns, and you wonder how long it’s going to go even though you know the eventual outcome. It was good. Without doubt. Priced substantially higher than the already substantially priced 10 Year, however, I didn’t see myself buying another 15 Year either.

Then I had an opportunity to pick up this Longrow Red Tawny Port Cask Matured, aged 11 Years, at a discounted price. I’d heard the Longrow series tends to be a bit more industrial compared to Springbank’s namesake line. This promised some funk, something that might upset the balance. The use of port casks likewise offered the possibility of a particularly rich sweetness to disturb that textured, campfire-smoked Campbeltown peat.
I uncorked it, and woah. On the nose I got salty smoked pork salami spiced with red wine, all the way. Love! The taste was then subtler than the nose, but deeper and darker, mysterious. The port and pork salami notes were now somehow vague, as if within a fog. The finish was surprisingly light, with dark fruity port notes lingering at a distance. Fresh out of the bottle, this was an oddball, at once excellent and frustratingly restrained. I really liked it. But I also really wondered about it. How might it open up over time?

So here we are, now two weeks after uncorking and four pours into the bottle. These brief notes were taken using a traditional Glencairn.
COLOR – gorgeously rich oranges with red and brass accents
NOSE – restrained and yet thick, with salty air, sea stone and brine, drying port, uncut aged pork salami, red wine and wood tannins, dry beach wood, only faint smoke and faded peat
TASTE – port and dark caramel chews, now the peat and smoke emerge, some chocolate, gritty and bitter tannins
FINISH – dry smoke, port, dark subtle peat, a gritty and bitter tannic haze around the edges, a bit of crackly heat from the ABV
OVERALL – a rough but cozy wool blanket wrapped around me at a beach bonfire where decadent sweet desserts and red wine are served


Not quite the woah it was at uncorking, but still a formidable pour. The port influence is central throughout, with the meaty, sweet, and elemental flavors swirling around it. This adds to the bonfire on a beach feeling—the maritime, food and drink aromas entwined in the fire’s smoke.
This Longrow shares its Springbank namesake cousins’ calm and restraint. But overall it makes a more robust impression by comparison. The peat is surprisingly subdued, and yet quite nuanced, its darker notes dipping into the port and its dryer, lighter notes mixed up in the smoke, wood, and tannins.
Also unlike the Springbanks, I feel more compelled to invest in my curiosity. I can tell when next I come across a Longrow I’ll stop to consider it—if someone else hasn’t made up their mind before I have the chance! Longrow gets less attention than the Springbank namesakes. But it’s also a culty fave.

I’ve opened this bottle as the San Francisco weather is torn between chilly and warm. Cloudy skies are alternating with bouts of sun and blue, often over the course of a single day. I’ll be reaching for this Longrow Tawny Port cask on those chillier nights, to keep things warm and cozy.
Cheers!


