The Legendary 1964 “Black Bowmore” Whisky Resurfaces, In Cahoots With Aston Martin
Photo by me. Not sure if it’s absolutely straight or not.
“There comes a time in every man’s life,” Casey Stengel famously said, “and I’ve had plenty of ‘em.” I know what he means. I have had the insanely good fortune, over the last decade and change, to have tasted some of the world’s greatest and most sought-after spirits. Not all of them, mind you. Not even close. But enough bucket-listers for a couple of lifetimes. I won’t list them for fear of looking like I’m humblebragging, but… oh, what the hell, here’s a few of the more memorable ones:
I’ve tasted the legendary A.H. Hirsch 16 Year Old bourbon and an Old Overholt rye distilled in 1909. I’ve had a single malt that was laid down in oak the day I was born, and another of which only one bottle was ever made commercially available. I’ve had pre-Castro Cuban-made Bacardi and a 50 year old Appleton rum distilled in 1962, the year Jamaica gained its independence. I’ve tasted tequila in Mexico with the fifth-generation tequiliero who made it. I’ve traveled to France to taste cognac with eaux-de-vie selected by Hennessy’s original master blender more than 200 years ago. I’ve… well, I’ll stop before you gag and/or start throwing things at me.
But there are some things I’ve tasted that stand out more than others. And among them are the Bowmore single malts distilled in the 1960s and bottled in the 2010s. Bowmore is based on Islay — in fact, it’s the oldest Islay distillery still in operation, dating to 1779 — so it’s got the smokiness that you’d expect from an Islay malt. But it’s pretty subtle, sidling up to you rather than bonking you over the head with a slab of peat like a Lagavulin or an Ardbeg (both of which I adore, don’t get me wrong).
The smokiness of Islay malts comes from the peat used to malt the barley. The longer the whisky ages, the more the barrel influences the final flavor, which means the smoke and peat notes fade and become more subtle over time. That’s certainly true with the Bowmore’s whiskies. But an astonishing thing also happens with those 1960s malts — rather than getting over-oaked and tannic, as they near the half-century mark they take on an extraordinary vibrance and sweetness, along with a salinity and light smokiness that reminds me of grilled fruit over a campfire by the beach. My favorite of the bunch is the 1966, which has distinct pineapple notes, but the 1965, which is more mango-esque, isn’t far behind.
The most famous of the bunch, and one of the most legendary single malts ever released, is the 1964 “Black Bowmore.” Aged in Oloroso ex-sherry casks, it’s so named for its dark, almost opaque color. It was first released in 1993 as a 29-year-old, at the then-astounding sum of £120 a bottle (I’ve also read that it went for £100; either way, it was a good investment). It almost singlehandedly kicked off the collectors market for single malt whiskies, which at the time were little more than a curiosity in the Scotch whisky market. It also reestablished Islay as the hottest region in Scotland for serious whisky nuts.
The Black Bowmore was bottled four more times over the years, most recently in 2017 — that one, aged 50 years, was dubbed “The Last Cask.” I was lucky enough to have tried it (more bragging, sorry), and it’s a classic 50-year-old Bowmore from the ‘60s, with pineapple, mango, and grapefruit notes along with delicate wisps of smoke. Simply put, it’s a mind-blowing whisky.
The only problem with the 50 Year Old Bowmores is that there aren’t a lot of them. All of the 50-year-olds that have seen the light of day have been issued in editions of less than 200, and the price tags for a bottle go into the tens of thousands of dollars. One taste of the Black Bowmore, therefore, was all I could reasonably expect to have in a lifetime. Until the whisky gods — in the form of Savona Communications, which represents Bowmore in the States — smiled on me again and invited me to cross it off the bucket list one more time.
The reason for the occasion was Bowmore’s collaboration with Aston Martin, the car company that’s made some of the most iconic vehicles in history, most notably James Bond’s way-cool gadget-laden ride. I’m sure there’s a compelling reason why the two decided to hook up apart from “Whoa, wouldn’t it be cool if…” but I couldn’t tell you what it is. I can, however, agree that a bottle made in part from an actual Aston Martin DB5 piston is incredibly cool. Damn.
This bottle is made from a genuine Aston Martin DB5 piston! What will they think of next?!
(photo courtesy Beam Suntory)
The other cool thing about the Black Bowmore DB5, as it’s known, is that it’s a younger version of what was released three years ago. In fact, it’s only aged for 31 years. That means it was removed from the cask, likely to rest in stainless steel, in 1995 — which happens to be the last time a 31-year-old Black Bowmore was bottled. Clearly they put some aside for special occasions. How much? Well, who knows what still rests in those tanks on Islay, but this edition is a mere 25 bottles/pistons’ worth.
Compared to the 50-year-old Last Cask, the 31-year-old DB5 is a beast of a different color. At a cask strength of 49.6% compared to the Last Cask’s 40.9%, the DB5 is brawnier, with more spice, more pronounced smoke, and less fruit than the Last Cask. What fruit is there is more along the lines of raisins and apricots, reflecting the sherry cask, than the weird alchemy that occurs with the oldest Bowmores. It’s like, well, driving an Aston Martin compared to the limo ride that is The Last Cask. That said, is it an incredible whisky? Oh, you betcha. This stuff is justifiably legendary not just for its history, but for how it tastes. With a $65,000 price tag, however, you may think twice about actually opening the bottle. But hey, if you’ve got another $10,000 or so, you can pick up at auction an original 1995 bottling of the 31-year-old Black Bowmore, which was then called the Final Edition. Little did they know!
In a nutshell, this is a great and historic whisky, I’m a lucky so-and-so, and please don’t hate me.