Whisky, at its core, is a bottled symphony—each expression a movement in the greater composition of taste, aroma, and time. When Billy Walker, the modern-day alchemist behind GlenAllachie, decided to blend whiskies from both the tranquil pastures of Speyside and the wild, rugged coasts of Islay under the McNair’s Lum Reek label, he wasn’t merely crafting spirits—he was orchestrating a smoky ballet where peat and sweetness waltz together across the palate.
From the very first pour of Lum Reek Peated, the stage is set. The whisky doesn’t rush forward with roaring smoke but rather enters like a mist—gentle, lingering at the edges, teasing the senses. Imagine a landscape just kissed by dawn, where the last vestiges of a bonfire mix with morning dew, its tendrils of smoke intertwined with notes of apple and pear. This whisky is a painter, softly brushing in the finer details of Speyside’s honeyed sweetness against the backdrop of Islay’s peaty depths.
On the palate, it’s a symphony of contrasts—honeyed peat swirls like a slow, deliberate dance. The heat of dark chocolate flirts with the sharpness of ginger, a citrus zest pirouetting in the background, while a dash of coastal salt rises like a wave breaking on the shore. It’s as if the whisky is caught in a constant tango between land and sea, sweetness and smoke, never fully tipping its hand but always leaving you wanting more.
The Lum Reek 12-Year-Old takes the story a step further. This isn’t just a whisky—it’s the flickering flames of a campfire at dusk, crackling with intensity but tempered by the cool night air. The smoke, once gentle, now roars to life, as if the embers have been stoked and the fire has fully taken hold. Cinnamon and citrus rise from the glass like notes from a well-aged woodwind, interspersed with dark chocolate tones that evoke the richness of velvet.
Sipping it feels like sinking into a leather armchair in an old library, the warmth of the fire on your skin, the scent of woodsmoke mingling with ancient books.
The texture is creamy, as though the whisky itself has taken on a luxurious coat, gliding across the tongue and leaving behind trails of peat, honey, and spice like footprints in soft sand.
But it is with the Lum Reek 21-Year-Old that McNair’s pulls out all the stops—a crescendo that builds and builds until it breaks across the palate in a wave of complexity. Here, the smoke isn’t just a player—it’s the conductor. The moment you uncork the bottle, you’re transported to a windswept island, the air thick with peat smoke, but beneath that rugged exterior lies a treasure trove of flavor.
Imagine walking through a mystical orchard where stone fruits hang heavy from the branches, but at the heart of this orchard, a fire smolders. Pineapples, cherries, and coconuts lie scattered at your feet, their sweetness mingling with the earthy smoke. On the tongue, these flavors burst to life—dark chocolate and liquorice combine in a heady embrace, while honey and berries playfully chase each other around the edges. It’s a symphony, yes—but one where every note is deliberate, every chord rich and resonant, leaving you savoring the echoes long after the glass is empty.
To drink the Lum Reek series is to experience a delicate balancing act—where peat, that most primal of whisky elements, is not allowed to overwhelm but instead is tamed and harnessed like fire. It crackles, it smolders, but it never burns out of control. Instead, it illuminates everything it touches—the fruits, the spices, the chocolates—casting each in a new light.
As the Scottish say, “Lang may yer lum reek”—long may your chimney smoke. With McNair’s Lum Reek, that smoke isn’t just rising from the hearth; it’s a beacon calling you back to the glass for one more sip, one more taste of that magical balance between fire and flavor.
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Words by AW.
Photos courtesy of McNair's.