Released to commemorate the 200th anniversary of the founding of Lagavulin distillery by John Johnston in 1816, this eight-year-old Single Malt Scotch Whisky is big and smoky.

A celebration of the people and craft that have made Lagavulin great over the last two centuries, its fragrant, tea-scented smoke alongside nose-drying, maritime aromas is unlocked with just a drop of water. Inspired by the visit of Alfred Barnard to the distillery in the 1880s when he tried an 'exceptionally fine' eight-year-old from the distillery, this is a fitting tribute for the milestone.

With a light body that becomes pleasantly oily, the Lagavulin 8-Year-Old palate boasts a magnificently full-on Lagavulin taste that’s somehow even bigger than you expect. The limited-edition, beautifully pristine presentation box makes it the perfect gift for lovers of peaty and powerful whiskies.

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Tasting notes:
Nose: Immediately quite soft with clean, fresh notes, faint hints of milk chocolate and lemon and then developing fragrant tea-scented smoke alongside nose-drying, maritime aromas, with subtle cereal. A prickliness seen earlier now develops, while the trademark Lagavulin dryness emerges as fresh newsprint. Softly sooty. Softer, fuller and more rounded with water: it’s not hugely fruity but there’s just a trace of red berry preserve, perhaps, beneath the smokiness, which comes sharply into focus.

Palate: A soothing light texture, with a magnificently full-on Lagavulin taste that’s somehow even bigger than you expect; sweet, smoky and warming, with a growing, smoky pungency, then dry, with more smoke. Charred, with minty, dark chocolate. Beautifully balanced midpalate then salty, oven-charred baked potato skins and smoke. Water rounds things, the taste still mighty yet more succulent, sweeter, spicier and now tongue-tingling, mint-fresh and warming.

Finish: Lovely; clean, very long and smoky. Smoothly, subtle minted smoke surrounds chocolate tannins, leaving a late drying note to emerge in time. It’s warming, soft and still smoky with water, not as long or intense now, yet still leaving the palate dry as sweet smoke lingers on the breath.