BALLECHIN
Single Cask #298 (2020)MASH BILL – 100% malted barley
PROOF – 117.6
AGE – 11 years 9 months in a used bourbon cask
DISTILLERY – Edradour Distillery
PRICE – $130
WORTH BUYING? – Yes, though I’d like it better at an even $100
In the dreaded year 2020, some good things did happen. The bottling and release by Edradour Distillery of this Ballechin Single Cask was one of them. (Sometimes yuh just gotta appreciate the little things.)
One of this cask’s 209 bottles eventually found its way to a shop in San Francisco, where it sat quietly on a bottom shelf until I picked it up sometime midway through 2025—yet another dreaded year. And already 2026 is looking to be the even more horrifying sequel to 2025, so, best to fill our glasses with the good stuff while we can.
To be clear, whisky is of zero importance when compared to the state of the world. I haven’t noted the timeline of this bottle’s journey from Scotland to my kitchen table to in any way pass lightly over current events. These coincidences of timing merely highlight something about whisky I greatly appreciate—how it embodies the contradiction of something at once dangerous and enjoyable, and, as such, offers its more devoted fans an opportunity to practice thoughtful noticing and reflection, rather than mindless consumption.
In principle, that’s a statement as much about engaging with the world as it is about appreciating whisky. At the end of the day and the bottom of the glass, whisky will always be only whisky. But one thing whisky can be is a simple means of practicing how we handle our attention. Do we throw it away? Or do we slow down to give our attention—not to pay it, that’s too transactional—more openly and with consideration?
Something to think about as we taste this blustery seaside Ballechin. Here we are, two days after uncorking and two pours into the bottle. These brief notes were taken using a traditional Glencairn.
COLOR – exceptionally clear straw yellows, very reflective of the world outside the glass
NOSE – both edgy and soft, with earthy peat, beach campfire smoke, salt and sand, lemon zest, smoothly sanded oak, caramel custard, dense floury bread
TASTE – creamy texture, with gobs of caramel and vanilla right up front, followed by the peat and salty smoke, soft stewed peaches and nectarines, a surprisingly easy bite from the ABV
FINISH – more ABV bite adding to a black peppery quality in feel and taste, with lingering vanilla, lemon zest, oak, and oak tannin
OVERALL – that edgy and soft combo that presents itself on the nose serves as a kind of umbrella over the whole, with the sweet notes standing distinctly alongside the bitter notes
Far edgier than the 2016 Ballechin 10 Year I recently enjoyed, this whisky feels balanced in its own way. The soft and edgy aspects seem less integrated than paired up. As a distinct pair, they create balance without melding. It’s enjoyable. But it’s also attention grabbing in a way that conjures question marks rather than exclamation points—i.e. Do I like this…? Yes…?
The answer is ultimately Yes. But I do miss the ease with which the Ballechin 10 allowed me to lean back and relax into its own lovely balance of sooty and sweet.
I added a dollop of water.
The nose now comes across creamier, softer, still maritime, but with more caramel amidst the peat, smoke, and sand. A bit of that stewed peach is now already showing up. Eventually a subtle meaty bacon note wafts through.
On the taste, there’s that loveliness I was missing! The creamy texture is now a touch thinner, though still viscous. The tamed ABV allows the bitter aspects—salt, tannin, smoke—to serve as accents to the sweeter fruit and candy notes. And the finish now lingers with a soft peppery tingle dancing gently around the caramel and oak.
Nice. I used to be a bit of a purist when it comes to adding water. But lately, and especially with scotch whiskies, I’ve been more liberal about it and have really enjoyed embracing the variance it can yield. Some whiskies I absolutely prefer with water—a recent Balvenie 25 Year and Ardbeg 26 Year come to mind. Those I now only drink with added water. This Ballechin might join them in that regard.
Ballechin releases are few and far between in the US. But I’ll be nabbing them anytime I can, for sure. They’re low key, high-quality whiskies. They taste very real. Nothing manufactured or fast-fashion about them.
Returning to my earlier rumination on whisky as a means of practicing thoughtful consideration, the distinct pairing of edgy and soft elements in this whisky indeed makes a useful metaphor for the varied times we’re living in. Edges are sharp right now. Soft moments are hard to come by, and easily overwhelmed. But if I slow down and breathe, then, like adding water to this edgy whisky, the distinctions remain clear while my experience attains greater balance. The world’s problems may not be resolved. But I might feel a bit better able to keep facing them.
Cheers!
The Right Spirit 