Lagavulin 8 years

Score: 69

Lagavulin 8 came fourth in its tasting, and honestly, it wore that placement like a badge of honor. This younger sibling of the iconic Lagavulin 16 isn’t trying to be the elder statesman, it’s leaner, sharper, and more direct. Bottled at 48% ABV, it’s a tribute to Alfred Barnard’s 19th-century visit to the distillery, and it channels that old-school Islay spirit with unapologetic clarity. On the nose, it’s all about cold smoke and coastal grit—think charcoal, seaweed, and seawater, with a medicinal edge that softens into citrus, oats, and a touch of vanilla. The palate is creamy but assertive, with pan-fried mushrooms, burnt hazelnuts, and roasted almonds layered over a mineral-rich maritime base. It’s not trying to woo you with sweetness or sherry, it’s here to remind you what Islay peat tastes like when it’s stripped down and honest. In the tasting lineup, Lagavulin 8 was the bottle that divided the room just enough to keep things interesting. Some loved its purity and punch, others found it a bit too austere compared to the richer, more rounded drams. But fourth place felt right, not a crowd-pleaser, but a character piece. It was the dram that made tasters lean back and say, “Okay, that’s Lagavulin in its rawest form.” And for those who appreciate smoke without frills, it was quietly brilliant.