18/12/2023 Imperial

Imperial 17yo 1995/2013 Iðunn (49.5%, Lord of the Drams Dram of the Lords, Bourbon Barell [sic], 131b): nose: strangely mute. Perhaps a drop of pear eau-de-vie, in the distance. It (very) slowly wakes up, and adopts a softly-mineral side -- limestone walls, sprayed with lemon juice, and warmed by the summer sun. We have a whiff of thin coffee too, and warm cast-iron tools. This one appears to require time to open up -- and, after a decade in a sample, how could that be a surprise? All the same, it does not become loquacious. Unripe Conference pears, dry lichens, a smidge of dried toothpaste, perhaps, or faded green wellies. A daft name, if you ask me: the Duke of Wellington, when he had new boots cut, could not have had rubber in mind. Twenty minutes in, the second nose offers strong glue, the sort that comes in a soft-metal tube, and that a certain tranche of the population snorts for a cheap high. Said glue has a tame (almost useless) lemon scent. Then, we have rubber boots after a trek through muddy fields, soaking in a moss-covered tub of warm water, with a splash of lemon-scented detergent. Mouth: ooft! It is not an easy one, even though it does not lack sweetness. Indeed, we have crumbly mint drops, sweetened milk and sugared almonds competing with rubber boots (newish, this time), salty liquorice wheels, camphor, thin coffee spilled on limestone, and mocha pudding. The texture is milky, and the general impression is of earthy milk -- not in a chocolate-oat-milk way, mind; more disconcerting that that. The second sip is more-firmly focussed on lemon and mint (or is it lemon mint?): fresh, zesty, and easy-going. Rubber is never too far behind, but it is also easy-going, now, neither too bitter, nor too chewy. Finish: again, the finish is mineral, with milk, mud and mint crumbles. It is a fairly-long finish too, one that provides a comforting warmth, yet an unusual one, to be sure. It becomes more cereal-y with time, getting closer to porridge, though it retains a faint earthiness that makes me think of Kahlua, the coffee liqueur. Repeated sipping enhances the dialogue between the three Ms (milk, mud, mint) and that mild coffee note, and the whole is vaguely-reminiscent of Mokatine, a vodka-less white Russian, or a caffè latte corretto. Yes, each sip renders this more, erm, traditional, perhaps. A solid, earthy number with flashes of sweetness. Good effort. 7/10