Welcome to Garryana Edition 8, where Westland once again said, “What if we took a whiskey and gave it an existential crisis?”
Part of the distillery’s Outpost Range Collection, this bottle continues Westland’s noble quest to turn the entire Pacific Northwest into a tasting note. With only 7,380 bottles available, it’s rarer than a sunny day in Seattle and arguably more layered than your favorite conspiracy theory podcast.
This edition “plays on a theme” from Editions 4 and 6, which in whiskey terms is code for “We brought back sherry butts, and they brought friends.” Here’s the full cast of characters in this complex dram:
Pedro Ximénez butt (45%) – Sweet, rich, and dramatic, like a flamenco dancer in a velvet cape.
Virgin Garryana oak (38%) – The Pacific Northwest’s resident forest mystic, brooding in the corner with stories of spice and smoke.
Washington red wine casks (12%) – These were filled with syrah and cab sauv, and honestly, they haven’t stopped talking about it.
1st fill ex-bourbon (5%) – Quiet, dependable, and probably journaling about how no one appreciates it enough.
At 100 proof, Edition 8 punches well above its weight class. The sherry and wine finishes come flying out of the glass like they’ve been waiting their turn on The Bachelorette: Whiskey Edition. There’s warmth, depth, and more flavor than you’d expect at this proof—white grape, orange zest, and yes… Honey Nut Cheerios, because why not? Even your breakfast cereal is getting a tasting note now.
The maltiness is real. It’s pronounced. It’s proud. It’s that guy at the party who tells you he’s into single-origin coffee and then roasts his own beans in a garage. Some will love him. Some will run. Fair enough.
Interestingly, Garryana oak has taken a step back in this release—not gone, just more integrated, like the friend who no longer insists on acoustic guitar solos during every gathering.
And here’s the twist: this edition doesn’t lean like your typical American single malt. Nope. It struts closer to Scotch or Japanese whisky territory, with elegance, restraint, and a whisper of “you’re not ready for this complexity.”
In conclusion:
Edition 8 is bold, nerdy, and deeply flavorful. It’s less “easy sipper” and more “whiskey that stares into your soul while quoting poetry about oak.”
And honestly? We’re here for it.
