27/09/2020 Fête de la Communauté française de Belgique

It has always bothered me, this holiday. It is the celebration of the French-speaking community of Belgium, not of the French living in Belgium!

Invergordon 37yo 1972/2009 (46.6%, Càrn Mòr Celebration of the Cask, Bourbon Barrel CC#60478/63675, 259b, b#236): nose: tea-time custard-cream biscuits, meaning a mix of sweetness and salty crunchiness. Sweet-and-salty popcorn, cooked swedes, sweetened cereals. Fruits soon join, with glazed apples and soft pears leading the march, bringing ripe pineapple and papaya in their wake. Fruity beer, orangeade, crystallised pomelo segments, steamed bananas and marmalade. The more one noses it, the fruitier it seems to become, too. Unexpectedly, the fruits are mostly yellow and exotic, though. At this point, no trace of the trademark blackcurrant. That might still come... Later on, caramelised-onion relish shows up, as well as some kind of oil that I refuse to call palm, yet might just be that. Mouth: soft, sweet and velvety, the palate sees a similar influx of fruits -- steamed bananas, glazed apples, pears (unripe, this time), softly acidic pineapple, even papaya. This time, in the back of the throat, blackcurrant appears, overshadowing dried raspberry slices and wood varnish. The wood varnish morphs into bold walnut stain, though it is balanced by lovely fruit, and never becomes invading. Rum toft, stewed rhubarb, and some sort of fruit drops I cannot seem to place. Finish: at this ideal strength (for me), it has squashed blackcurrant to supplement steamed banana, baked pineapple cubes and honey-glazed apples. It is sweet, fruity and comforting. with a very subtle bitterness that makes me think of almond liqueur. Almost none of the wood varnish subsists, nor does the walnut stain. The palm oil has also all but disappeared to leave only that glorious Invergordon fruit. Love it! 8/10 (Thanks PS and JS)

Garnheath 27yo 1972/2000 (59.4%, Signatory Vintage Silent Stills, C#386516, 190b, b#182, 00/81): I promised a couple of days ago that I would review this. Now is as good a time as any. This is the only grain whisky in this amazing collection, as far as I know. Nose: full-on cereal, at first, with chaff, baked potatoes and boiled corn. It only takes a second sniff to find more, however: fresh paint, shrinkwrap (vinyl freaks know what I am talking about), pine essence, but also rum toft, banana rum, stewed mixed peel and lime-juice-sprinkled pineapple chunks. Perhaps there is a vague warm-metal impression too, not unlike a lukewarm radiator from the 1970s -- the technology is very different, these days, and they do not feel (or smell) the same way, anymore. The shrinkwrap / cellophane grows in intensity, and despite the fruit, the straight nose is solvent-driven and intimidating. With water, only cellophane remains, though it is being made, this time: a warm and amorphous goo being stretched into elongated plastic film. Fresh paint appears too, yet the nose as a whole seems less distinct. Mouth: fruitier than expected, the palate is quickly overrun by powerful alcohol, which, without being a nuisance, is rather anaesthetising indeed. Once the numbness subsides and the taste buds come back to life, we find tangerine peels, Seville-orange marmalade, waxy mandarin peel, stewed mixed peel again, yet also poultry food, digestive biscuits and hot spreading honey. A metallic note goes hand in hand with solvents (still that cellophane), and the tip of the tongue feels as if licking citric powder cut with American cream soda. Entertaining. Water makes the palate more tolerable, in terms of strength. Minty lozenges, lemon-and-banana drops and softer marmalade. Finish: huge, obviously (it is 59.4%, after all), long and powerful, it warms up a true man's soul like a Kipling novel (Victorian-England propaganda aside). The various citrus peels are well represented, almost sparkling like a lemonade. The finish combines bitterness and acidity, as if lime and pomelo peels has been mixed with Alka-Seltzer, but -- hey! It works. I detect virtually no wood, today, even though the Death comes with crushed bay leaves, which brings additional, gentle-but-spicy bitterness for good measure. With water, the finish loses its bitterness almost entirely, leaving but the citric acidity to be enjoyed. Oh! and it is dialled down with a drop of blackcurrant juice to boot. What a dram! 8/10

G1.7 19yo d.1990 Flamed Christmas pudding (62.4%, SMWS Society Single Cask, Refill ex-Sherry Butt, 506b): sherry-matured grain whiskies do not roam the streets, as the Belgians say in French. I remember an old Girvan bottled by The Whisky Agency that was very good. Let us see this one... Nose: well, it is very bready, with overly-baked bread crust, fluffy bread slices, English muffins, prior to toasting, mashed potatoes and corn (corn bread?) Sweeter notes come up, after a moment -- mead, glycerine, baking shortbread and, maybe, nuts. Suddenly, a drinks cabinet appears out of nowhere, with brandy (a bit bland, somehow -- blandy?), white Port, rum. A more industrial side then rocks up, nowhere near heady industrial glue, but it does have a quaint, synthetic quality to it. Perhaps paint? Sweet fruit paste unfolds too, chemical, if that makes sense. After the first sip, toasted aromas reach the nostrils, betraying the sherry cask at last: coffee grounds, roasted malt and a pinch of earth. H₂O accentuates the coffee feel, though it also adds lychee to the mix -- very subtle, mind. Mouth: peachy and thin, the mouth starts soft and plateaus on the low side of powerful, considering the strength. Lots of pine-y paint, here, mingling with cooked fruits (baked apple, stewed rhubarb and unidentified jams) and chlorophyll-flavoured chewing gum. One would be hard pressed to detect any sherry influence, at this stage. The second sip brings out the toasts, just as it did on the nose, yet it remains subtle. A pinch of coffee grounds and some malt. Water turns it softer, and it seems to welcome sweet-cabbage relish (not kimchi) and more lychee. Finish: the bread comes back, then marmalade, then a mix of chocolate and coffee (chococino), finally revealing the influence of the cask. It all feels balanced and pleasant, which, once again, is surprising, at this relatively high ABV. The finish is long and breakfast-like, with its bread, coffee and chocolate. In the medium run, it even sees berries (elderberry, blueberry, blackcurrant), reinforcing that breakfast-y impression. Oddly enough, the alcohol bite seems stronger with water. Other than that, it has a sweeter touch to accompany the coffee grounds. Nice, all in all. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, PS)

24/09/2020 Affordable whiskies

JS, red71, STL and Bishlouk gather online to try some drams from JS's collection and mine.

I have already taken lengthy notes for all but one, so tonight is a social affair. I do write down a few comments, but very little. For the record only.

Naturally, they try everything blind; I know what all the drams are.

Dram #1 (JS)

Nose: fresh and minty, with pears and yellow flowers.

Mouth: lovely texture, pear drops and minty lozenges.

Finish: custard and mint again, biscuit, green-hazelnut paste, but without the bitterness I would normally associate with that.

Comment: the others seem to enjoy it as much as I do. STL guesses Inchmurrin, while Bishlouk ventures an ancient young Littlemill.

Glenmorangie Artisan Cask (46%, OB, White Oak First Fill Hogsheads, b.2005, L5 244 15:57 4ML) 8/10

Full notes here.

Dram #2 (JS)

Nose: solvents, according to red71 and Bishlouk. The former likes that, the latter less. Solvent dissipates with water, they tell us.

Mouth: astringent and strong. With the difference in ABV, it is hardly surprising!

Finish: they find it drying, not desiccating, and woody, which matches my own impression.

Comment: this did not fare too well, tonight. Tough audience? Sequencing mistake? Who can tell?

64.32 10yo 2001/2011 Nutty delights (59.1%, SMWS Society Single Cask, 1st Fill ex-Bourbon Barrel, 245b) 8/10

Full notes here.

Dram #3 (tOMoH)

Nose: apple peel (STL), lichen, verdigris. In fact, it is orchard fruit, growing mould on the skin.

Mouth: chewy as fook, it has more lichen and apple peel.

FInish: strong alcohol presence, with Bishlouk very close to calling a nurse to revive him. The others do not agree and find the alcohol rather well integrated.

Comment: lost of guesses, none right. In no particular order: Rosebank, Glen Ord, a Speysider finished in Banyuls casks. I laugh my head off. Internally. I have to admit that this is not affordable at all, though.

Garnheath 27yo 1972/2000 (59.4%, Signatory Vintage Silent Stills, C#386516, 190b, b#182, 00/81) 8/10

No detailed notes for that one yet. They will come.

STL: "It reminds me of Glenfiddich 21yo. Except that I don't like Glenfiddich."

tOMoH: "Is that because of the triangular bottle?"

Dram #4 (tOMoH)

Nose: mud and peat, as well as cow dung, drying in the fields. The others detect no peat at all. Bishlouk finds it "very young," and immediately puts out a disclaimer that he is very bad at recognising new makes. Out of courtesy, we do not point out to him that he is very bad at more than that.

Mouth: Bishlouk is finally struck by light peat.

Finish: elegant, with more refined peat.

Comment: lots of guesses, none remotely close.

Gerston (46%, The Lost Distillery Company, Series #3, B#1.I, b#0399, L13/9035, b.2013) 7/10

Full notes here.

Dram #5 (tOMoH)

Nose: minty and fresh too, this one has squashed raspberry, this time, and a pinch of ginger powder.

Mouth: fresh, sweet, and... silt-y. Bishlouk has sweet vanilla.

Finish: juicy peat, intertwined with faded leather, squashed raspberry and Chinese gooseberry.

Comment: third time I have this, and it was a different experience each time. It jumped out of the glass at nosing time, changed a lot, then became tamer, more polished and more "usual," say the others. I do not fully agree, but it does change.

Ardmore 21yo 1998/2019 (51.5%, Thompson Bros., Refill Hogshead, 256b) 8/10

Full notes here.

Another fine night of fun. I did not even take pictures. :-/

20/09/2020 Deanston

Only one dram again.

Deanston 35yo 1977/2012 (40.4%, The Whisky Agency & The Nectar, 253b): nose: meow! Purr! Phwoar! Yellow fruit and spring flowers, with, in no particular order, honeysuckle, lilac, lily of the valley, plums, nectarines, white peaches, ripe bananas, melting conference pears and apricot jams. Next to that, cotton candy gives a sweetness that is most appealing. The fresh fruit soon morphs into cooked fruits of all sorts; strawberry and plum jams, yet also apple compote, squashed baked pears, and pineapple-y custard. Timid blueberry coulis shows up at the back of the sinuses too, then a citric side becomes evident with sweet-grapefruit segment (skin removed), kumquat and calamansi. Further back still, and very subtle, a drop of mercurochrome elevates this to more than a "mere" fruit bomb. Mouth: at this magical, naturally-low strength, it tickles the taste buds without distracting from the flowers, nor does it seem weak -- simply perfect for tOMoH. Strawberry jam is the first to appear, softly acidic, soon followed by pineapple slices and cut nectarines. In fact, it is teeming with yellow and white fruits; white peaches, plums, banana slices, even gentle grapefruit, dunked in custard. Custard! Yes, that is the texture: lukewarm custard, liquid, but almost oily, in terms of viscosity. Finish: creamy and fruity again, it has something more, this time; something earthy or root-y. A pinch of soil, a sack of earthy potatoes, straight from the vegetable garden, perhaps leeks. Make no mistake, though: if it permeates even the nose, once the first sip is swallowed, that earthiness is shy and subdued. The most noticeable is that creamy fruitiness that carries peaches, plums, pineapple, nectarine, pear, banana, grapefruit-y custard and a spoonful of strawberry jam. Amazing Deanston. My favourite expression of that distillery, to-date. 9/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

13/09/2020 Trip to Ayrshire

During the no-longer-so-recent closed distilleries tasting  the presenter observed that, if the whisky is officially bottled as Ladyburn, independent bottlers call it Rare Ayrshire.

Indeed, some do: Signatory, The Whisky Talker and The Ultimate do call it Rare Ayrshire, with the latter two probably using Signatory's stock anyway. Duncan Taylor and Gordon & MacPhail have both bottled Ladyburn under the name Ayrshire (not Rare), whilst James MacArthur has done a limited run of miniatures under the official name; it was but a re-bottling of an official bottling.

That leaves but Cadenhead and Blackadder, who both bottled Ladyburn under that name. Cadenhead probably did so before William Grant became so protective of their brands, and Blackadder tend not to give many fucks about what they are allowed or not allowed to do.

The above is so well known, these days, that (Rare) Ayrshire and Ladyburn are used almost interchangeably, outside of the legal mine field that is the label on the bottle. Case in point: as I was browsing the latest auction on the evening of 8 September, it was not even a surprise to see several lots advertised as Ladyburn-Ayrshire, alongside a brief description of the long-lost set of stills within the grain plant.

Being a ghost hunter, Ladyburn is of course a distillery I am fond of. One of the aforementioned lots had a reasonable highest bid. It was a Malts of Scotland bottling, which was interesting to me: one I have not yet tried and that is not on my shelves. I put the lowish bid down to the bottling not being well known (I did not know it, after all; I could not be the only one). I bid on it without thinking too much.

It took me several minutes to realise my mistake.

Looking a little closer, it turns out it was a 1991 distillation, bottled 2020. Ladyburn closed in 1975. Also, the cask number was on five digits. It did not add up. Looking even closer, the label read 'Single Grain'. The penny dropped.

I suddenly remembered that independent bottlers, Signatory perhaps leading the pack, had started bottling Girvan under the name Ayrshire (not Rare). Maybe William Grant asked them not to use the name Girvan any longer, now that they bottle it officially too, I do not know.

The result is that, on the market, one can now find:

1. Ladyburn: officially-bottled Ladyburn single malt
2. Ladyburn: officially-bottled blended malt that may contain Ladyburn single malt
3. Ladyburn: independently-bottled Ladyburn single malt
4. Rare Ayrshire: independently-bottled Ladyburn single malt
5. Ayrshire: independently-bottled Ladyburn single malt
6. Girvan: officially-bottled Girvan single grain
7. Girvan: independently-bottled Girvan single grain
8. Ayrshire: independently-bottled Girvan single grain
9. Ailsa Bay: officially-bottled Ailsa Bay single Malt
10. Images of Ayrshire: independently-bottled Ailsa Bay single malt

The lot I bid on, I thought was #5, but it was instead #8.

I immediately contacted the auction house and pointed out the confusion generated by their labelling a Girvan Ladyburn-Ayrshire. I expected nothing. After all, many auction houses tend to go to great lengths to shift the responsibility towards the bidder (what you see is what you bid on, and your bid is legally binding).

The auction ended and, of course, my bid was the highest. The previous high bidder was probably ecstatic that another absent-minded bidder saved them buying a 28yo grain whisky for the price of a 30yo Caol Ila. Especially seeing as said grain was still widely available in shops for a third of the winning bid.

I put it down to experience. Bitter experience.

Much to my relief (and surprise, let me be honest), the auction house took responsibility for the mistake the following day and cancelled the sale. For that, many thanks; it was a very professional gesture.

Clearly, I should have paid more attention and done more research. The thrill of the last-minute auction got the better of me. I was lucky, in the end: I noticed when something could still be done about the situation, and the auction house was willing to do that something to correct the situation.

With a name being used to designate so many different things, confusion is almost inevitable, even amongst the professionals, as illustrated by the above screen shot and my little tale. Vigilance is needed. Others may not take responsibility for the confusion and it may result in an expensive bottle of grain whisky indeed.

To celebrate, let us have the real thing (#3 above).

Ladyburn 20yo 1966/1987 (45.7%, Cadenhead): nose: it is bold, it is assertive, and it is welcoming. Waxy apple peel, pencil erasers, a sprinkle of dust, and old rags, crusty with dried beeswax. The nose becomes more floral shortly thereafter, with buttercups and daffodils, then geranium and tagetes (marigolds), and even more herbal tones of fresh sage and saxifrage foliage. The carousel of alternating flowers and waxes is nothing short of spectacular, really. Vine leaves, ripe plums and a drop of gentle ink complete the first nose. The plums become riper and darker over time, bordering on soaked prunes, eventually. The nose also carries something else, something discreet that may even be plasticine, rather than modelling clay or wax. Mouth: miraculously, the mouth is similar. It has plums, prunes, waxy apple peel and sweet flower nectar (daffodils, buttercups). The texture is thick and oily (extra-virgin olive oil), and there is a faint bitterness akin to when one licks a pencil eraser. The crusty rags are still there, the wax on them has lost nothing of its fragrance. The second sip sees a nutty side too, perhaps sweetened macadamia-nut paste, or cashew-nut-paste sweets (kaju katli), as well as dried fruits (dried apricots, dried figs). Every sip is chewier than the previous. The alcohol is perfectly integrated, yet maintains enough power to keep one engaged. Finish: a drizzle of milk-chocolate coulis punctuates the plums, daffodils and pencil erasers from previously. We also have waxy plants: geranium foliage, laurel leaves, schefflera leaves, and beeswax, though less of that last one than on the tongue. The dried fruits (apricots, figs, sultanas) are in the finish too, and they are well chewy, which makes for a lasting impression -- a good one. What a superlative whisky! 9/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

05/09/2020 Three decades of Coleburn

Coleburn 17yo d.1965 (40%, Gordon & MacPhail Connoisseurs Choice imported by Co. Import for Giacinto Nicolai of the Club delle fattorie, Series 27, 120b): nose: old cola, peppered maple syrup, toasted wood and toffee. The first sniff has subtle burnt wood and burnt cake crust as well, though it only lasts for seconds. Some vanilla aromas then take centre stage, with butterscotch and mocha-flavoured butter cream and tiramisù in the making (that would be biscuits, soaking in a coffee-and-amaretto blend). Distant dried thyme leaves, hawthorn appear, then a soft, sulphury side -- brimstone, cordite, matchbox striker. Prunes and black olives are next, followed by wood lacquer and the timid come-back of the initial burnt-wood note. Mouth: wood lacquer interweaves with nutty prunes, velvety and sweet, before cured ginger shavings join the party. Almond skins, whatever amaretto would taste like if it were not so sickly sweet... This is mildly bitter indeed. The texture is rather thin, with plum juice and the bitterness of the plum stone (or it is still those almonds?) Finish: crushed roasted almonds, almond skins, prunes and dusty toasted staves. It is a slightly-overly-baked almond cake, served with a dollop of unctuous vanilla custard and, perhaps, chopped fresh plums. The bitterness remains, though one would have to be very sensitive to find it bothersome. It has little of the sulphur, here, but the roasted notes become more pronounced with each sip; burnt cake, coffee grounds and even rubber. The soot I detected the first time has been replaced by earthy and toasted flavours. All in all, a very good and interesting dram. 8/10

Coleburn d.1972 (40%, Gordon & MacPhail Connoisseurs Choice, b. late 1980s): there were at least a handful of these expressions with the first map label, bottled between 1987 and 1996. Considering this one has no bottling code, it is very likely one of the very first ones -- my bet is 1987. Nose: OME, with ground white pepper, dust and straw, though little vinegar, in this one. Let us give it some time... Dry brine (as in: the residue in a jar that used to contain brine), sawdust and ginger peel. The white pepper grows in intensity too. Suddenly, ink, blood-stained bandages and Iso-Betadine shoot out of the glass, as welcome as they are unexpected. Pretty quickly, the pepper is back, on top of hay bales and a wheelbarrow of coumarin. Mouth: the pepper is present on the palate too, even if it is merely a supporting act for the new star: salt. Foccacia, with rock salt, rosemary and all, capers, seawater, (from the Dead Sea!), halibut -- yes, it is a bit kipper-y. The second sip is less outrageously salty; it has mulch, a hay-and-straw paste, sprinkled with lemon juice and white pepper. Cedar-wood sheets and an undeniable tannicity are easy to spot too. Finish: huge, for the modest ABV, it still benefits from an unsacrificed salary (that only makes sense if you understand the etymology of the word 'salary'. If you do not, look it up!) with rock salt, sea rocks, seashells, salt-crusted chicken, salt meadows, capers again, red-leaf-lettuce (chioggia) seasoned with too much salt, hay, then lint and minty gauze, as an afterthought. Salt invades every sip, the second of which brings raw potato slices, salted at will -- yes, crisps, before they are baked. The whole leaves the mouth dryish and this taster craving water! The final sip has a spoonful of dusty custard, yet the baker must have mistaken the salt for the sugar. An interesting ride, although this cannot have done too much to boost the Coleburn name, I would imagine. 7/10

Coleburn 20yo 1980/2001 (50%, Douglas Laing The Old Malt Cask 50°, Sherry Cask, 648b): nose: immediately, the sherry speaks, and I firmly believe it was an Oloroso cask, as this nose has an earthy side to it. That said, it also shows tinned lychee, so who knows? It might have been a Fino. Fragrant jasmine, lily of the valley, lilac and more fruit -- tropical again: dragon fruit, guava, white peach join the lychee. The nose also lets through whiffs of lichen and cork, both dry to the point of crumbling and mouldy. At last, that smell of a drinks cabinet as one opens it comes up (Chardonnay, brandy, white Port). Once that dissipates, rancio picks up and does not let go, supported by roasted raisins. Mouth: the mouth is more wine-y, with notes of juicy sherry, a little earthy too, maybe with a pinch of coffee grounds. Lychee is behind the scene, letting its presence be known in a subtle fashion. Brown banana skins, burnt toast, roasted peanuts, Brazil-nut oil and, yes: coffee grounds are absolutely present, overpowering the lychee in the medium run, unfortunately. The second sip brings raisin liqueur (would it be PX sherry, after all?) and wood shavings -- from precious wood; perhaps mahogany. Finish: wow! The finish is much more drying than I expected, with a mix of coffee grounds and scorched earth, aniseed, burnt toast and gunpowder. Not much fruit left, at this stage, and if there is, it is burnt fruit stones (prunes) rather than juicy flesh. The second sip welcomes a shy drop of pressed grapes, underlining the sherry influence again. There might be dried dates and figs, but behind the earth, they are pretty much undetectable. Good and seemingly more complex than the previous two drams. Good sherry maturation, this. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, EG)

03/09/2020 Glenmorangie Madeira

Only one dram, today. I have found it hard to muster up the motivation to do more, lately.

If my memory is correct, in the late 1990s, Glenmorangie released several whiskies that had been matured in "unusual" casks as an experiment. They worked well enough to integrate the core range in the early-to-mid 2000s. I believe what we are looking at today is the first incarnation of this Madeira Finish as a regular expression, rather than something more limited. The follow-up second incarnation, with the green-striped label, I thought was the best of its generation, which included Burgundy, Sherry and the popular Port finishes. This first one with the green livery, I cannot recall trying before.

Glenmorangie Madeira Wood Finish (43%, OB, 8327, b. ca 2000): nose: syrupy fortified wine, yet not a dark one -- I am thinking tawny Port or Fino Sherry, though probably sweeter than the latter. Sultanas, dried figs, dried apricots, white peach slices, nectarines. Then, out of nowhere, fresh, sappy notes appear; not quite pine drops, but it does smell as if someone vapourised mint toothpaste onto the fruits. Or is it fresh rosemary sprigs, perhaps? A couple of sniffs later, the toothpaste/rosemary goes away, replaced with walnut oil and raspberry vinegar. This nose is as seductive as it is interesting. A faint whiff of straw bales under a drizzle that just broke out, geranium, and then it magically goes back to walnut oil and syrupy wine. Mouth: good attack, despite the reduction (but of course, it is only my first dram), it has the dried fruits of the nose (figs, apricots and sultanas, re-hydrated, this time) and cracked green pepper on fresher fruits, such as white peaches and nectarines. The gums perceive a gentle woodiness that in no way detracts from the enjoyment; merely a pinch of ground galangal, sumac and ground cloves. The texture is that of a thick liqueurs, almost honey-like, and it is made almost sparkly by a distant touch f peppermint. Lovely. Finish: cigar leaves and fortified wine on steroids, sweet, robust, elegantly woody, voluptuous, warming and comforting. A notch of vanilla via retronasal olfaction too; toffee, butterscotch, sticky toffee pudding, and the subtle, drying character of bay leaves in a sauce. This is unashamedly moreish and, if it probably never did and never will change  anyone's life, for the 45 EUR such a bottle cost upon release, it seems remarkable value for money. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, kruuk2)