23/12/2018 Active distilleries MkII (Part 1)

In June, I promised I would revisit the drams on a day I do not have to present them to a group of twenty, a day I could spend more time with them. Well, it is today.

Dew of Ben Nevis 40yo 1962/2002 (40%, OB, Sherry Cask): as I found out in June, this appears to have been sold as a distillery exclusive. It is also a single blend -- a mix of malt and grain (blend) produced at the same distillery (single). Dew of Ben Nevis is the name of the blends made by Ben Nevis. Nose: it seems much shyer than it was in June, and then, when it does wake up, the first impression is that of a typical Ben Nevis, with must and wine sauce. Puzzling, as that it is not at all how I remembered it. Once the wine-y character dissipates (ten minutes or so), the nose brings red apple, overripe fig, a touch of glue, Dundee cake, mince pie, but also pork sausage and dust. After a longer while, the aromas become a bit more assertive, at last: cooked strawberries, rhubarb compote, warm cellophane, baked plantain and stewed tangerines. It is definitely on the fruity tip, this one, though perhaps less so than in my memory. Cashew-nut oil, Madeira wine, damp bung cloth and a good dose of timid fruit. After the first sip, the nose is less timid, pushing the same aromas, but more strongly (cellophane, citrus, citrus peel, lime zest, oily Brazil nuts), alongside an unexpected, earthy note. Mouth: it is now gently tickling, with orangeade, kiwi slices, pear drops, rhubarb compote again and candied apple. Retro-nasally, I find dunnage warehouse, with its soaked staves and lichen. On the tongue, the next wave unleashes fresh pineapple, a dash of grapefruit juice and peach yoghurt. Lots of citrus on the back of the palate, moving towards pink grapefruit and blood orange. Finish: it is bolder, here, with clay floors, musty warehouses, mushrooms, even, yet also a big, fruity side -- red apple, stewed strawberries, stewed tangerines, soaked sultanas and citrus-sprinkled custard. In fact, once the custard takes off, it is hard to notice anything else... Oh! Bay leaves! Yes: lime-sprinkled custard with a few bay leaves thrown in for good measure. More citrus arrives: a fifty-fifty blend of pink grapefruit and blood orange. Amazing. This is a cracking dram, but it seems like a different whisky, really. I suspect the temperature difference (it is easily ten degrees cooler today than it was in June). It might suffer a bit from the reduction too, if I am totally honest. 8/10

Secret Stills 02.02 40yo 1966/2006 (45%, Gordon & MacPhail Secret Stills, Sherry Hogsheads, C#1204+1449+1452, 600b, JF/CHH): the Cragganmore that dares not speak its name. Nose: this reeks old school from the word 'go', with stewing marmalade, caked at the bottom of the cauldron, placed on a coal stove. It has an unusual mix of cooked potato skin, baked plantain skin, warm ale, honey-coated malted barley, fig-and-rhubarb jam, a surprising and subtle note of dried heather and oily, dark pipe pipe tobacco. Further, it has discreet tincture of iodine (Iso-Betadine), before becoming more floral (Weigelia, Hydrangea) and finally die with another surprising note of chilli, rubbed on oilskin. How can a dram be fruity, cereal-y, floral, medicinal and plastic-y at the same time? This is magic! Mouth: the first to hit the taste buds is the coal stove, 1836 style. Then, the marmalade, still stuck to the bottom of the pan. Flowers? Check (Weigelia and white rhododendron). Cereal? Check (honey-coated, puffed wheat). Plastic? Check (subtle oilskin). Medicinal peat? Ah! The iodine is pretty much absent, making room for very tame smoke and incense ashes. Fruit comes back as well in the shape of softly-smoked Smyrna raisins. Finish: meow! Mashed potatoes, baked potato skins, draff, but also marmalade on Swedish rye bread, mince pie, raisins (Smyrna again), marinated orange peels, baked banana and rhubarb compote. This is an important whisky, as PS would say. :-) 9/10

Tamnavulin 40yo 1968/2009 (40.6%, Càrn Mòr Celebration of the Cask, Hogshead, C#3659, 335b, b#210): this one was divisive, in June, with the majority liking it, and the Belgian table rather unanimously disliking it; they found it "dusty." Nose: dusty custard! Confectionery sugar, powdered on top of Turkish delights, sugar dust on pineapple cubes, then chou dough and Bourbon-barrel staves, unripe melon, Custard Cream biscuits, rosewater, sprinkled on a sponge cake (coconut, almond, sugar, flour). This is all very promising, although it does feel somewhat anaesthetised (the June sun is still nowhere to be seen, of course). When I warm it up in my hand, the aromas grow louder, resolutely in the pastry department, with custard, confectionery sugar, rose water, almond powder, lokum, panettone and pineapple cubes. Mouth: soft and fruity, it has sweet satsuma, squashed Chinese gooseberry, ripe pear, citrus peel, candied pineapple cubes, confectionery sugar and, perhaps, a minute note of wood (birch). Yes, it is indeed the vaguely-drying touch of young, white wood -- very vaguely, mind. Sawdust, we will call it, although, really, this is not a particularly woody whisky. It is elegant, refined and delicate, very much on the pastry side of the house. Finish: it pats you in the face three times at once: wood, custard and citrus -- the latter now being a forty/sixty blend of grapefruit and satsuma. New staves from a recently-disgorged Bourbon cask, custard and baking powder, rum, exuding from the new cask and ginger powder, sprinkled on candied citrus segments. The Turkish delights are still present, yet the finish is less sweet than the nose and the mouth. Candied angelica! Yes, that is it; slightly liquorice-y and sticky at the same time: that is candied angelica. The finish harks back to rose water, near the death, which is rewarding for the patient taster. This dram impresses me a little less today than six months ago, but the Belgians were idiots regardless: this is an excellent whisky alright! 9/10

Enough for one day.