Four Bottles, One Bourbon I'll Vouch For, a New Series on Watches, and the Cask Education You've Been Missing

I didn't plan to feature Remedy Liquor back to back — I generally like rotating retailers each issue. But while pulling last week's bottles, I stumbled across a few deals that are too good not to talk about. Sometimes the shelf makes the decision for you.

Laphroaig's annual limited-edition Càirdeas release, created by Master Blender Calum Fraser to celebrate 30 years of the Friends of Laphroaig program. This 10-year-old expression was first matured in over-charred first- and second-fill ex-bourbon barrels and quarter casks, then finished in Pedro Ximénez sherry casks — combining the cask profiles from two of the most popular past Càirdeas editions: 2019's Triple Wood and 2021's PX Cask. Bottled at 52.4% ABV. On the nose you get brazil nut toffee, vanilla custard, baking spice, and chocolate-covered raisins. The palate is rich and oily — smoked orange toffee, stewed peaches, campfire embers, coffee grounds, and liquorice root. The finish is long, peppery, and peat-rich with a dry sweetness that lingers.

ABV: 52.4% | Cask: Ex-Bourbon/Quarter Cask, PX Sherry Finish | 700ml

Price: $64.99

Typical US Market Range: SRP was $109.99 at launch. Most retailers that still have it are asking $100–$120.

Savings: $35–$55 under typical retail. This is a significant markdown on a limited annual release.

Who's this for: If you're a Laphroaig fan who missed this at release or passed at $110, this is your chance. The PX finish adds a dried fruit sweetness and oily richness that balances the peat without burying it — think Laphroaig with the rough edges smoothed out but the character fully intact. At 52.4% and $65, this is one of the best Laphroaig deals I've seen.

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The peated expression from Tobermory Distillery on the Isle of Mull. Ledaig (pronounced "Led-chig") is one of the most underrated peated malts in Scotland — a maritime, smoky single malt that offers a different peat character than what you'll find on Islay. Peated at around 30–40 PPM, matured for 10 years, bottled at 46.3% ABV. Non-chill filtered, natural color. On the nose expect briny smokiness, creosote, mint chocolate, and soft peat. The palate brings medicinal sweetness, black pepper, dried fruit, vanilla, and a rich peaty creaminess. The finish is spicy white pepper, liquorice, cloves, and lingering sea salt.

ABV: 46.3% | Cask: Ex-Bourbon | Non-Chill Filtered | Natural Color

Price: $56.99

Typical US Market Range: $65–$80 at most retailers. Wine-Searcher shows a California average around $74.

Savings: $8–$23 under typical retail.

Who's this for: Ledaig is a favorite of mine. If you love peated whisky but your entire shelf is Islay, Ledaig is the bottle that shows you peat doesn't have to come from one island. The smoke here is different — more smoked meat, brine, and creosote than bonfire and iodine. It's non-chill filtered, natural color, 46.3% ABV — everything done right at a price that undercuts most comparable Islay malts. Think of it as a step sideways from Talisker or Springbank into Isle of Mull character. At $57 from Remedy, this is a genuine value.

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I don't recommend bourbon often. There's too much other whisky I'd rather drink, and if you follow me on Instagram you know I give bourbon more grief than it probably deserves. But Elijah Craig Barrel Proof is one of those exceptions. This is bourbon in its purest form — uncut, straight from the barrel, no chill filtering. Each batch is labeled with its unique proof and batch number. Heaven Hill releases ECBP in small batches at full cask strength with varying ages — though earlier batches carried a 12-year age statement, recent releases have trended younger. The proof varies by batch but typically lands somewhere in the 120–135 range. Expect deep caramel, dark chocolate, oak, cherry, vanilla, and a heat that's intense but never sharp. The mouthfeel is thick and viscous in a way that most bourbon at this price point can't touch.

ABV: Varies by batch (typically 60–67%) | Cask: New Charred American Oak

Price: $55.99

Typical US Market Range: $60–$75 at most retailers. Allocated in many markets and often marked up to $80–$100+ when it shows up on secondary shelves.

Savings: $4–$19 under typical retail, and significantly under secondary market pricing.

Who's this for: This is seriously good whiskey at a very good price. I say that as someone whose default recommendation is almost never bourbon. ECBP is barrel proof, unfiltered, and consistently one of the best values in American whiskey — it regularly beats bottles that cost twice as much. If you're a Scotch drinker who's curious about what bourbon can do when it's done right, or a bourbon drinker who wants cask strength without paying allocated prices, this is the bottle. At $56 from Remedy, don't overthink it.

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The third collaboration between Lagavulin and Nick Offerman — an 11-year-old Islay single malt matured in heavily charred ex-bourbon and red wine barrels, bottled at 46% ABV. The charred oak influence adds a layer of sweetness and warmth to Lagavulin's signature peat. On the nose expect smoke, saline, biscuity shortbread, lemon, and bright berry fruit. The palate brings citrus, almonds, hazelnuts, ginger, vanilla, and peat smoke woven throughout with a silky mouthfeel. The finish is sweet, then bitter — cigar ash, leather, and polished oak. This came out over four years ago now, and supply is dwindling as bottles quietly disappear from shelves.

ABV: 46% | Cask: Charred Ex-Bourbon & Red Wine Barrels | 750ml

Price: $76.99

Typical US Market Range: $85–$100 at most retailers. Wine-Searcher shows a US average around $93.

Savings: $8–$23 under typical retail.

Who's this for: If you missed the Lagavulin 12 Cask Strength from last week's deals, this is worth a look. It's not cask strength and it's not the 12, but in my opinion it's a better whisky than the standard Lagavulin 16. The 46% ABV gives it more body than the 16's 43%, and the charred oak and red wine cask influence adds a sweetness and berry character that the 16 doesn't have. This was a limited release that's now four years into its shelf life — once these bottles are gone, they're gone. At $77, it's a solid price for a Lagavulin that's getting harder to find.

The first in an occasional series exploring the intersection of watchmaking and whisky — two crafts where time isn't just a concept, it's the whole point.

One measures time. The other depends on it. A watchmaker selects metals and alloys and assembles them into an instrument built to track every passing second. A distiller selects barley, water, and oak and trusts years of maturation to finish what the still began. Both end with something that only exists because time was part of the process — not as a marketing word on a label, but as a physical force that shapes the final product. Without time, a movement is just parts. Without time, whisky is just spirit.

That shared dependence on time is what makes these two worlds worth putting side by side. Not because every watch collector drinks whisky or every whisky enthusiast wears a mechanical watch — but because the deeper you look at how both are made, the more the processes start to mirror each other. A watchmaker balances dozens of variables — gear ratios, spring tension, jewel tolerances, the interaction between metals — to make a movement that keeps time accurately. A distiller balances just as many — barley variety, peat level, fermentation length, still shape, cut points, cask type, warehouse conditions — to make a spirit worth waiting years for. Both are exercises in controlled complexity, where every decision affects the final product and nothing can be undone once the process is in motion. Wind a mainspring wrong and the watch loses time. Make the wrong cut at the still and you live with it for a decade. The margin for error is small. The variables are endless. And in both cases, the people who do it best make it look simple. This column is about the makers who prove it.

Giuliano Mazzuoli — The Workshop as Inspiration

Giuliano Mazzuoli is not a watchmaker. He'll tell you that himself. Born in the hills outside Florence, he's a designer — a man who spent decades making writing instruments, notebooks, and mechanical accessories before he ever touched a watch case. His family's connection to timekeeping goes back further. An ancestor named Lisandro Mazzuoli learned the craft of building and repairing tower clocks in the 1700s, and drawings of clock movements still mark the walls of the family's old house in Tavarnelle Val di Pesa.

When Mazzuoli finally decided to make a watch, he's said in interviews that he deliberately set aside everything he'd collected on watchmaking — books, articles, references — specifically to avoid being influenced by the existing industry. Then he waited. The inspiration came not from another timepiece but from the pressure gauge on an old air compressor sitting in his print shop. That industrial instrument — a manometer — became the Manometro, his debut watch in 2005, and it remains the foundation of everything he does. A bold cylindrical case. A clean dial with only the essentials. A single sweeping hand. Clear legibility. No embellishment. It clearly echoes the industrial gauge that inspired it — except it tells time.

What followed was a progression that only makes sense if you understand Mazzuoli thinks like a craftsman, not a brand manager. The Contagiri drew from the tachometer of an Alfa Romeo 8C. The Trasmissione Meccanica took its cues from mechanical transmission systems. The Carrara used hand-shaped Italian marble from the same quarries where Michelangelo sourced stone. Each collection started with something real — an instrument, a machine, a material — and became a watch. Mazzuoli says design is a reproduction of something nature already made — you can't chase it, you have to recognize it when it finds you.

Mazzuoli's watches use Swiss movements, often the ETA 2824-2 — one of the most reliable workhorse calibers in the industry — housed inside cases that come from workshops, quarries, and racing garages rather than jewelry studios. The straps are Tuscan calfskin, inserted directly into the case rather than attached with traditional lugs. Nothing about these watches tries to look like a Rolex or an Omega or a Patek. They look like tools that happen to tell time, made by a man who trusts materials more than marketing. Raw steel, concrete, marble, pressure gauges. The beauty is industrial, not decorative — function elevated into form without ever disguising where it came from.

That raw, industrial honesty reminds me of Springbank — a distillery that still malts its own barley by hand and distills, matures, and bottles everything on site. Different craft, different country, same conviction that the process is the product.

A Mazzuoli Manometro on the wrist. A Springbank 15 in the glass. One measures time. The other was made by it.

Giuliano Mazzuoli | Springbank Distillery

Jeremy and Rob put six 12-year-old cask strength (or near-cask strength) Scotch whiskies head to head: Edradour 12 Cask Strength Batch 6 (59.5%, oloroso sherry butts), Macallan 12 110 Proof (55%, not technically cask strength but close enough to earn a seat), Lagavulin 12 2024 Special Release (57.4%, ex-bourbon and refill), Springbank 12 (54.1%, March 2023 bottling), Roseisle 12 Cask Strength 2023 (56.5%, ex-bourbon), and Bunnahabhain 12 Cask Strength 2025 (56.4%). They scored everything in the 87–90 range and agreed there wasn't a bad bottle on the table — which made ranking nearly impossible. The Edradour was an oloroso bomb with heavy viscosity and old-school sherry character. The Macallan was the most crushable and elegant but had an oak note on the finish that bothered Rob. The Roseisle impressed with its fruit-forward ex-bourbon profile but got outclassed by the competition. The Bunnahabhain brought minerality and candied cherry but couldn't unseat the sherried heavyweights. The Springbank delivered its usual dunagey, funky, dark oatmeal character — though Rob admitted he's been reaching for it less lately. And then there was the Lagavulin 12, which both agreed was essentially unbeatable. Check out the video for the full rankings.

Scores: All bottles 87–90 range. Lagavulin 12 CS unanimous #1.

Full Episode Here

My take: This is exactly the kind of episode that proves a point I've been making since this newsletter started: age-stated, cask-strength whisky is almost never bad. Every one of these bottles is bottled above 54%, every one carries a 12-year age statement, and every one scored between 87 and 90. That's not a coincidence — that's what happens when you give whisky the ABV it deserves and let the age do the talking. The Lagavulin 12 winning is no surprise to anyone who reads this newsletter — I featured the 2024 Special Release in last week's deals section at $93 from Remedy, which is roughly half what Diageo originally wanted for it. If it's still in stock, go back and grab it. And their broader point is worth repeating: every distillery should have a cask strength, age-stated expression somewhere in their range. The fact that most don't is a choice — and not one that benefits the drinker.

Ruben at WhiskyNotes reviewed the 2026 edition of Compass Box Hedonism — the annual limited release of what was the world's first blended grain Scotch whisky when it launched in 2000. This year's edition is the oldest recipe to date, with most components aged 20–24 years and some up to 31 years old, drawn from Strathclyde, Port Dundas, and Cameronbridge distilleries. Bottled at 46% ABV, limited to 13,218 bottles. On the nose he found caffé latte, vanilla cream, oranges, fresh oak shavings, nougat, almond, and light coconut. The palate was rich — nougat as the centerpiece, with hazelnut cream, vanilla, well-integrated oak spice, brown sugar, toffee, nutmeg, and milk chocolate mousse, with a sherry note and blackberries in the background. The finish was medium with oak, a grainy edge, vanilla, and subtle apple acidity. He called it a successful upgrade — elegant and refined, never overdoing the grainy roughness or coconut that can dominate lesser grain whiskies. He also reviewed an older Hedonism batch (circa 2023, 43% ABV) side by side and scored that one 82.

Score: 85/100 (2026 edition)

Full Review Here

My take: This ties directly into something I've been saying since Issue #1 — blended grain is the fifth official category of Scotch whisky, and most people don't even know it exists. Compass Box built Hedonism to prove that grain whisky isn't filler — it's its own thing, and when it's done with intention and age, it can be genuinely excellent. The fact that this edition carries components up to 31 years old at 46% ABV for a blended grain is remarkable. An 85 from WhiskyNotes is a strong score, especially for a category that most single malt drinkers dismiss without ever trying. If you read this week's Worth Knowing section on cask sizes, you already know that surface-area-to-volume ratios change how whisky matures — and grain whisky, typically aged in ex-bourbon barrels in large industrial warehouses, develops differently than malt. It's lighter, creamier, more vanilla-forward, and at 20+ years it develops a richness that surprises people who've never given it a chance. At around $120–$130 retail, this isn't an impulse buy, but it's a genuinely unique bottle that most of your friends have never heard of — and that's half the fun.

Ralfy — now over 1,100 reviews deep — took on the second batch of Edradour's heavily peated Ballechin at 18 years old and cask strength. Edradour is one of Scotland's smallest distilleries, tucked away in Pitlochry, and Ballechin is their peated expression. This batch is bottled at 57.8% ABV, natural color, and Ralfy noted that the high bottling strength after 18 years tells you something about the cask quality — less evaporative loss means thicker, heavier staves doing their job properly. On the nose he found intense phenolic peat on par with young Bowmore despite the age, along with barbecued pineapple, mint, fresh ginger, and a herbaceous savory quality — sage, rosemary, thyme. On the palate with water: tangy citrus grapefruit rind, baked pineapple, autumn apples, mild banana, gingery apricot, and layers of aromatic spicy peat. The development kept going — billowing coal fire chimney smoke, then crisp tannins interlaced with ginger honey, cardamom, mace, and eventually nutmeg emerging after an hour with the glass. He called it "an absolute joy" and "quite an event," praising the balance of wood influence and spirit at 18 years as exceptional.

Score: 87/100

Full Review Here

My take: Edradour is one of the smallest distilleries in Scotland, and Ballechin is their peated side — a style you don't hear about often because the bottles don't stick around long enough to build mainstream buzz. But they're doing it right: small stills, quality casks, no shortcuts, and the results speak for themselves. If you've never explored what Pitlochry has to offer, this is a worthy place to start looking.

Every bottle of Scotch you've ever opened has spent years inside a piece of oak. And the shape and size of that oak — not just what it previously held — has a direct impact on what ends up in your glass. The principle is simple: the smaller the cask, the more wood surface area the spirit touches relative to the volume of liquid inside. More contact means faster extraction of flavor compounds — vanillin, tannins, lignins, the things that give whisky its color, sweetness, and spice. A small cask will mature whisky aggressively. A large cask will take its time. Neither is inherently better, but they're tools, and the best distilleries choose them deliberately.

Barrel: The American Standard Barrel — the ASB — is the workhorse of the whisky world. Around 200 liters, made from American white oak, and it begins its life in a bourbon distillery where US law requires brand-new charred oak. Once bourbon is done with it, the barrel gets shipped overseas — most Scotch matures in American oak, especially ex-bourbon casks. They give the whisky vanilla, caramel, coconut, and butterscotch — that classic sweet foundation you recognize in most Speyside and Highland malts.

Hogshead: Not a barrel. Slightly larger at 225 to 250 liters, typically made by breaking five ex-bourbon barrels down into staves and having a cooper reassemble them into four larger casks with new oak ends. Five barrels become four hogsheads. The Scotch industry loves them because you get more whisky into the same warehouse footprint, and the slightly lower surface-area-to-volume ratio allows for gentler, more gradual maturation. One of the most common cask types in Scotland.

Butt: This is where things scale up. A sherry butt holds around 475 to 500 liters — roughly two and a half times a bourbon barrel. Traditionally made from European oak and used in the sherry bodegas of Jerez. Because of the lower wood-to-spirit ratio, butts tend to suit longer maturation — the cask builds layers of dried fruit, dark chocolate, and spice gradually rather than aggressively. But size is only part of why sherry-matured whisky costs more. The casks themselves are expensive — European oak is pricier than American, the seasoning programs are labor-intensive, and genuine quality sherry casks are increasingly scarce. You're paying for the wood, the process, and the patience.

Puncheon: The one that trips people up, because the name covers two different casks. A sherry puncheon is roughly 500 liters but shorter and wider than a butt — a different shape with a different maturation profile. A machine puncheon, on the other hand, is an American oak cask primarily used in the rum industry. Same name, different wood, different shape, different flavor. When a Scotch label says "puncheon," you need to know which one — and most don't tell you.

Barrique: The standard cask of Bordeaux winemaking, around 225 liters, usually French oak. These have become popular for finishing in Scotch — when you see "wine cask finish" on a label, this is often what they mean.

Port Pipe: The large casks used to mature port wine — typically 550 to 650 liters, among the bigger finishing vessels used in Scotch. They bring dark berry fruit and tannic structure.

Quarter Cask: This is where it gets messy, because "quarter cask" depends entirely on what you're quartering. A quarter of an ASB is around 50 liters. A quarter of a sherry butt is around 125 liters. Laphroaig's famous Quarter Cask uses the larger format — roughly 125 liters — and the small size pushes wood influence hard and fast, adding sweetness and spice to young peated spirit. If someone quotes you a single number for a quarter cask, ask them quarter of what.

The takeaway: cask size is not a footnote, but it's also not the whole story. Oak species, previous fill, seasoning, char level, fill strength, and warehouse conditions all shape the final whisky too. But a 10-year-old matured in a 200-liter bourbon barrel has had a fundamentally different relationship with the oak than a 10-year-old in a 500-liter sherry butt — even if both labels say "10 years old." The age tells you how long. The cask type tells you what kind of wood. The cask size tells you how hard that wood was working.

The 10% tariff on Scotch whisky imports — imposed in April 2025 under Trump's "reciprocal tariffs" framework — is still in place, and it could get significantly worse. The Scotch Whisky Association has flagged a potential increase to 35% as early as July 2026. The current 10% is already costing the industry an estimated £20 million per month in lost export sales, and US-bound Scotch shipments dropped 15% by volume between May and December 2025. The UK-US trade deal announced last year was supposed to help — it lifted or reduced tariffs on steel, aluminum, and cars — but spirits were left out entirely. The SWA called for a "zero-for-zero" tariff resolution and said it continues to support a "measured and pragmatic approach," which is diplomat-speak for we got nothing. Meanwhile, the UK-India trade deal taking effect this month cuts Indian whisky tariffs from 150% to 75%, eventually dropping to 40% — so the industry is already pivoting east while the US market bleeds.

My take: If you've been thinking about placing an order from a UK or European retailer — and if you read the deals sections of this newsletter, you know there are bottles overseas that are either unavailable or significantly cheaper than what you'll find stateside — do it now. Don't wait. A jump to 35% would make importing from abroad meaningfully more expensive, and that cost will land directly on you. Right now, the 10% tariff is annoying but manageable, especially when you're already saving about 20% on certain bottles by buying ex-VAT from UK retailers. At 35%, that math changes fast. I'm not saying panic-buy, but if there's a bottle you've had your eye on from The Whisky World or any other overseas shop, the window to grab it at current pricing is closing. Bundle an order with a friend, split the shipping, and get it done before July.

That's it for this week. If the cask size breakdown changed how you read bottle labels, good — that was the point. And if the Whisky & Watches feature landed for you, I'd love to hear what watch brands or distilleries you want to see paired in a future issue. Reply to this email and let me know.

If you've been sitting on an overseas order, read the tariff piece and stop sitting. July is closer than you think.

If you know someone who'd be into this, forward it their way. More people on the list means better deals, better content, and more leverage when I go knocking on doors for exclusive offers.

Shoot me an email if you've made it this far and if you've decided to buy anything.

And if you're not already, come hang out on Instagram and TikTok — that's where I post the stuff that doesn't make it into the newsletter.

— Tim