Glenglassaugh is one of those distilleries that rewards the curious drinker. Tucked along the Sandend Bay coastline in the eastern Highlands, it spent decades in mothballed silence before roaring back to life, and the Torfa expression is perhaps the boldest statement in its current core range. The name itself — from the Scots Gaelic for peat — tells you exactly what you're getting into. This is Glenglassaugh making a deliberate play for the smoke-loving crowd, and at 50% ABV with no chill filtration, they've given it the muscle to back that ambition up.
What makes Torfa interesting is the tension at its heart. Glenglassaugh's house character has always leaned coastal and fruity — it's a Highland malt, not an Islay bruiser — so layering heavily peated barley into that profile creates something genuinely different from the usual suspects. This isn't peat for peat's sake. There's a maritime backbone here that shapes the smoke into something more nuanced than a straight phenol hit. You're in a different postcode from Laphroaig or Ardbeg, and that's entirely the point.
At NAS, the age statement purists will raise an eyebrow, but I'd urge them to look past the label. The bottling strength of 50% suggests the distillery wants this judged on what's in the glass, not what's printed on the box. And at £46.95, the pricing is remarkably fair for a non-chill-filtered single malt at this strength. You're paying for liquid, not marketing — something I wish more distilleries would remember.
Tasting Notes
I'll hold off on publishing detailed tasting notes until I've had the chance to sit with several drams across different sessions — this is a whisky that deserves that patience. What I will say is that the peated Highland style puts it in fascinating company. Expect coastal smoke rather than medicinal intensity, with the distillery's inherent character working underneath. The 50% ABV carries flavour without burning, and a few drops of water open it up considerably. This is one to revisit.
The Verdict
Glenglassaugh Torfa does something I always appreciate: it takes a risk without losing sight of where it comes from. The peated Highland category is still relatively uncrowded, and Torfa carves out a genuine identity within it. It's not trying to out-smoke Islay, nor is it a timid nod toward peat for the sake of trend-chasing. It sits confidently in its own lane — coastal, assertive, and bottled at a strength that shows real conviction from the distillery.
At 7.8 out of 10, this is a whisky I'd happily recommend to anyone looking to explore peat beyond the obvious names. It's well-priced, honestly presented, and rewards attention. The lack of an age statement is a non-issue when the quality speaks this clearly. Glenglassaugh continues to prove that its revival was no fluke.
Best Served
Pour it neat and give it five minutes to breathe in the glass — the coastal notes unfold beautifully with a little air. Then add a small splash of still water, no more than half a teaspoon, to unlock what's sitting beneath the smoke. This is a whisky that changes shape with water, and finding your preferred balance is half the pleasure. A classic Highball with quality soda also works surprisingly well here if you're after something longer on a warm evening, though I'd argue the neat pour is where Torfa is most itself.
