Isle of Jura 1989 SMWS 31.22

Cracked and eroded coastal roads came into view with stone, minerals, coastal salinity, and heather. A touch floral at times, beachside morning glories and heather bloomed with hints of tropical mango, papaya, and vanilla. A shoreline hike with hints of cigarette smoke and tar accented by bleached driftwood and rock pools. Medium-bodied, the flavor profile jumped into an ashtray of spent cigarette butts, tobacco, sand, and subtle menthol. Acrid elements stood alongside floral qualities as lavender, musk, and jasmine appeared. A touch of creosote and tar brought me back around to roadwork, asphalt laid in the morning, now cooling in an evening breeze. Peppery tobacco smoke and tarry ropes lingered at the end with a forgotten caramel candy. The finish was medium-length and slightly drying with gentle coastal salt and peppery wood.

I credit SMWS including “soap” on the bottle description for the fact that I won this bottle at auction a few years back— no doubt that kept away some of the people who might otherwise have been interested. I seem to have a predilection for these floral whiskies.

I shared this with a friend in the “Jura always sucks” crowd and after one sip he wondered if he needed to reevaluate that foregone conclusion, or if this was a one off. As he put it, “Jura doesn’t suck?” He did not find this soapy, and neither did I, though I can see how some might find those floral elements akin to soap. It begs the question, what flavor did your grandmother use to clean out your mouth after swearing? The answer probably determines whether you find this soapy— and bless you if you did not come of age when washing out your mouth with soap was something that happened. The whisky was otherwise acrid with plenty of phenolic elements despite the age. There was a wonderful contrast (not conflict) between these floral, maritime, acrid, and fruity layers that constantly brought be back for another pour.