Welcome, and thanks for a great review! The past few Octomores that I have tried have been big, heavy, peat-filled punches in the mouth - enjoyable in their own way, but a far cry from subtle. Interesting that the 13.2 does not follow this pattern; I’ll have to look around and see if I can find one.
As someone who has spent untold hours writing hundreds of these reviews (a few of which are posted here) that probably no one agrees with, I have to say you’re thinking about tasting notes in the wrong way however. The short answer is there’s never a “correct” tasting - it’s less about writing an accurate product description and more like a film critic reviewing a movie. You describe your unique experience with the whiskey, explore what it make you think of and how it made you feel, and other readers are free to agree with some, all, or none of your conclusions.
Now for the long answer:
Let’s start with remembering what whiskey actually is. We take a variety of grains, cook them to break them down into sugars, and then feed that sugar to trillions of tiny organisms that eat sugar and crap out ethanol and some other stuff. We take that, boil off some bits that we don’t want, and slosh the good part around in some burnt wood for a while. Then we add a bit of water back in and pour it in a bottle. Maybe I think the result tastes like cinnamon cookies, but you think it tastes like dirty gym socks. The reality is neither of those things are actually in this bottle! Therefore neither of us is right; both opinions are equally valid (and equally ridiculous). Mine is just more likely to be printed on the label, which is after all a marketing tool first and foremost.
So how did we come up with such wildly different tastes? Tons of reasons, up to and including genetics. Some people famously think that cilantro tastes like soap. Women are generally more sensitive to sulfides than men and therefore less likely to enjoy dry red wine. There’s uncountable other more subtle differences based on how diets evolved over millions of years.
Perhaps more important is that we each bring our own experiences. Smell and taste are both closely linked to memory - perhaps what makes you remember your grandmother’s pecan pie makes me remember that night in college where I vomited up half a bottle of Southern Comfort. We would use very different adjectives to describe the same flavor! Similarly, your brain will make connections based on what it has seen before. Perhaps the first ever peated Islay you had, all you could taste was the smoke, but now you’re writing a complex review of a famously heavy dram. What we are currently experiencing is also important - something is going to taste very different in a smoky pub, or after a big meal, or while your seasonal allergies are acting up.
So then, are all reviews just arbitrary bullshit? Well, that might depend on how you feel about art critics! I think they drive discussion, expand horizons, and help call out subtleties and complexities that each of us may have missed in our first pass. At the very least, they can be useful in the aggregate. You might disagree with any particular review, but if everyone else is mentioning vanilla and sugar cookies and citrus in their review, you can be reasonably certain that you won’t taste dark chocolate and coffee grounds. And if you do, that says something interesting about your particular palate that you may want to explore further. And there are a few ways that we can make our reviewing experience better and less arbitrary:
First, I find a routine is important - it sounds like you may already have this part down. To limit as many confounding variables as I can, I always review by following the same steps in the same environment, in as close to the same headspace as I can be. For me that means in my office, never after eating, never while drunk but also not trusting the first sip or two as my taste buds awaken. Some folks swear by the Glencairns but I don’t personally find the type of glassware to be all that significant - if you do, that’s something else to add to the list. There are tons of resources online about the “correct” way to taste whiskey, but all that really matters is you take your time and are thoughtful about each element in turn.
Secondly, it sounds like you may be struggling to isolate or verbalize what exactly it is that you’re tasting. When that happens to me, I find a flavor wheel to be a useful tool to help narrow things down. Again there are no wrong answers here but it can help you be more specific. And don’t be discouraged if you don’t come up with 20 unique flavors - some whiskey is just naturally less complex but that doesn’t mean it’s less tasty.
Finally, experiment with side-by-side comparisons wherever possible! One of the best ways to notice new things about a whiskey is to directly compare it another of a similar profile. For instance, the Dalmore 12, 14, and 15 should in theory be quite similar, and you could probably identify any of them as being “a Dalmore”. But if you try one right after another look out - there’s no mistaking one for the others; they have wildly different profiles. Other brands take the same base whiskey and then just age it in different ways - this is a great way to isolate what flavors are coming from the malts vs the finishers.
Apologies for the novel; hopefully something in here was useful to you. I hope you stick with the hobby and look forward to reading more of your notes in the future!
