Kavalan Solist Cask Strength Taiwanese Single Malt – Ex-Bourbon Single Cask!

KAVALAN SOLIST
Ex-Bourbon Single Cask #B080825104 (2016)

MASH BILL – 100% malted barley

PROOF – 109.6

AGE – 8 years

DISTILLERY – Kavalan Distillery

PRICE – $120

WORTH BUYING? – not quite

This bottle is my first experience with Kavalan, arguably Taiwan’s most internationally recognized whisky label. Given these Kavalan Solist releases typically go for at least another $50+ over what I paid, I figured this deal made a good way to get in on what the brand is all about.

Around the time I picked it up in 2022, I had a student in one of my adult theater classes who was from Taiwan. I asked him how Kavalan was regarded there. He said that people in Taiwan don’t drink it that much, that it’s known more as a high-end export made primarily for the American and European markets. Interesting.

Also interesting was that the bottle came so elaborately presented, with a signature Glencairn and resting snugly in an eerily funereal casket of a box.

This particular bottle had actually been released in 2016. But because of some quirk of international distribution, in 2022 K&L was able to obtain a sizable number of them at a steep discount. The deal might also have had something to do with this note K&L included on their website:

In the US, Kavalan bottles cask strength single barrels WITHOUT the term “Solist” on the label due to trade mark concerns. Despite packaging difference, this is the same quality offered under the Solist line in the rest of the world and we include the moniker in the description for that reason. This IS a “Solist” bottling despite the lack of use of the term on the label.

Whatever the explanation for the delayed and discounted release, all the better toward my introduction to Kavalan. I will admit to being disappointed it is a brand the Taiwanese apparently don’t drink regularly themselves. Also, exceedingly flashy packaging tends to ping my suspicions—for what lack might the distillery be overcompensating? And whenever a bottle of high-end whisky goes on steep discount several years after its release, one can’t help but wonder if quality figures into the explanation.

But ultimately the proof is in the tasting…

So here we are, one month after uncorking and five pours into the bottle. These brief notes were taken using a traditional Glencairn.

COLOR – pale but rich honey-amber, with bright gold and brass highlights

NOSE – thick vanilla sauce, old metal, thin but bright and sweet caramel, milk chocolate heavy on the milk, something dry like oak tannin or matted grasses, faint baked guava

TASTE – that thick vanilla still takes the lead, but now the fruit and candy notes lean forward a bit more, and alongside them the dry oak/grass and metallic notes join in a combined bitterness

FINISH – the dry, metallic, bitter quality is most prominent here, with the vanilla and fruit stepping back significantly, and all this holds steady in the gradually fading finish

OVERALL – a lush and tropical vanilla bomb marred by an ultimately grating metallic/herbal bitter aspect

From uncorking to now, the metallic bitter aspects of this whisky have hampered it for me. The vanilla is strong almost to the point of cloying, yet it has a kind of showmanship I appreciate. Paired with the fruit and other candy notes, it’s bold, vibrant, and layered.

But when that bitterness enters with gusto on the palate, it’s there to stay. Rather than providing a nice defining edge like the best bitter notes can, it grates. It also dries things out in a disappointing way, given the lushness of the vanilla, fruit and candy aspects are so appealing even in their showbizzy style.

The combined brashness and showiness of both the whisky and its presentation, and knowing it’s a product pitched toward international luxury markets, lends the experience a kind of Vegas or Monte Carlo feeling. And that glinty bitterness reminds me this is a product that’s been manufactured to appeal to extravagant tastes—an arid desert coerced into a lush oasis, something cheap dressed up as something swell, trying a little too hard. There is something inauthentic and forced about it.

So, a disappointing intro that does not compel me to explore the brand further. Single casks are singular, however, so I want to be fair toward Kavalan. I don’t imagine investing in another bottle, even on sale. But I can see this whisky lending itself competently to some tropical cocktails. And I’ll certainly try other Kavalan bottlings neat in bars when I see them on offer.

Cheers!

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