It can be hard to get excited about whiskies I’ve been drinking since the beginning, but it’s not fair to leave some of these truly great bottles out of the conversation. Add in the fact that we spent years fighting with the supplier on price and you’ve got a recipe for something that rarely gets mentioned. But sometime last year we managed to bring the price back to pre-pandemic levels, and I figured this old staple deserved a fresh look. Coincidentally, I had the chance to drive the western coast last month and was reminded just how special the terroir is for this unique little whisky. The tiny town of Oban is home to one of Scotland’s few truly urban distilleries. Springbank and Glen Garioch come to mind as others, not counting the newer operations in Glasgow and Edinburgh. While Oban sits within the massive Diageo portfolio, it remains one of the only malts distilled almost entirely for its own label. It doesn’t really show up in blends, nor is it traded around to independent bottlers. Only a handful of ancient casks have ever surfaced elsewhere. Maybe that’s why it lacks some of the fanfare. There’s no cult chase here. What there is, however, is a damn good mid-aged malt at a very fair price, and we’ll always do our best to keep it that way. Let’s have a taste. The color is a classic deep gold. The lightly peated style shows just a faint phenolic edge, but it carries an invigorating sense of place more often associated with the smokier malts to the south. There’s an absurd freshness that lifts the whole glass, yet something old and salty underneath. Yellow fruit, crisp malt, and deep maritime minerality evoke a walk through an old harbor. Barnacles, leather, salt-soaked ropes, weathered wood, a touch of ash, citrus oil, beeswax, and a hint of sweet almond. It’s simply excellent whisky that we too often overlook, but anyone who loves the salty west coast not only owns this bottle, they open it and drink it.