03/11/2025 Balmenach-Glenlivet

Balmenach-Glenlivet 19yo 1961/1980 (46%, Cadenhead): nose: it presents a wonderful mix of apricot jam and honey-glazed sage. Then, out of nowhere, a cloud of thyme smacks one in the nose, almost smoky. Very seasonal. It continues with a proper thyme infusion, the kind mothers used to bathe their infant in to sweat out a cold, several decades ago. Now, let me be clear: the sweet, jammy side from earlier does not leave entirely, but it very much fades into the background, replaced by old copper coins in an old leather pouch -- so old, in fact, that it is all hardened and crackly. We find all sorts of old, oxidised metals, actually: copper, zinc, lead and iron, with a veil of dust covering all of them -- thyme dust. How comforting! Rustic cuisine for wounded souls, this is. The second nose is earthier and more root-y, with dried earth, dried galangal roots, dried sugar beets... Oh! Black shoe polish applied onto combat boots (ABL 1972, for those who know). That is augmented with a spray of windscreen defroster, which is well unexpected. Even more unexpected is that it works! Decaying mosses and sphagnum join later, akin to the residue at the bottom and on the sides of an empty freshwater aquarium. Mouth: it reclaims its jammy character on the tongue, with peach jelly, apricot compote and stewed Mirabelle plums. A bit of chewing pushes a metallic shade to the front, and we are suddenly invaded by sheet metal, steel, copper sheets and aluminium cans. Lurking in the background, herbs are obviously on the prowl, waiting for their moment to strike. It is sage and thyme again, a bay leaf or two, hawthorn and gentian. Further chewing adds tree bark, gently smoked. All those herbs and metal, naturally, provide some bitterness, yet it is a balanced bitterness: dry, and not at all a nuisance. Imagine a cup of green tea, perhaps. The second sip has stagnant water and dried algae encrusted on the sides of a glass vase. That is soon submerged by lukewarm coffee, then topped with caster sugar. As earlier, the undeniable bitterness is balanced by a pleasant sweetness. It even has soot, after a while, splashed with milk, and Mokatines, at once bitter and sweet. Finish: coffee-soaked custard-cream biscuits, mocha custard, and crème brûlée topped with lemon-thyme leaves. If that reads like a departure from the nose and palate, it really is not; it seems their logical continuation instead. Soothing, comforting, it will not allow the obvious bitterness to be anything else than a supporting act. How it achieves that is by putting the focus on creamy, sweet dessert-y notes: crème brûlée or panna cotta, custard, tiramisu, lukewarm cappuccino, or affogato. There are fewer herbs, here; a distant, lonely bay leaf in the custard, at most -- and why the hell not? The second gulp is in line, yet milkier. It is single cream, rather than custard, which removes nothing from the overall comforting feel. Superlative dram. 9/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)