03/05/2020 Two drams from 1973

Spéciale dédicace à Forrest, who, of course, is not here, in this period of confinement.

Glengoyne 30yo 1973/2003 (52%, OB Single Cask, C#1540, 170b): nose: ZOMG! A beehive! Beeswax, both pouring and spreading honey, clover honey and manuka honey. Later, we welcome waxy fruits -- apricot, mirabelle plum, ripening satsuma. Yet later, drying resin shows up, solidifying, Jurassic-Park style. Furniture wax, pollen, painted pine cones, porridge, rendered edible by the addition of lots of honey, buttercups, shortbread dough. Mouth: gloriously juicy on the palate, it has honey-glazed yellow fruits aplenty, starting with apricots and mirabelle plums, and continuing with papaya and satsuma segments. It has its fair share of wax here too, though honey is simply more prominent. Saxifrage honey, made by mountain bees, pervenche honey, buttercup petals. This Glengoyne is resolutely yellow. It feels just perfect, in terms of alcohol integration too, with just enough horsepower to remind one that we are drinking whisky, but not enough to distract from the wonderful flavours. Finish: it could hardly be more pleasant, with the same honey notes as on the palate, furniture wax again, providing a distant bitter touch. The fruits are much less present in the finish, though that carries no withdrawal symptoms. In the long run, the finish sees something more herbaceous, yet it is difficult to isolate and identify, behind the honey deluge. Coriander, perhaps? In any case, it is amazeboulanger. 9/10

Craigduff 32yo 1973/200 (53.9%, Signatory Vintage Cask Strength Collection, Sherry Butt, C#2514, 557b, 5/0858): it seems fitting, after the Glenisla from the other day. Nose: a whisper of seal wax, but nothing like its sibling. No, the dominant is earthy, muddy, soggy peat, carefully treading a dangerous line between stagnant water and ploughed fields after the rain. It stays in the fields, which is good news. Raw red pepper, overdone toast and, suddenly, fresh fruit; peach slices, lingonberry compote, bog myrtle, smoked, poached red apple preserved strawberries. The peat never goes too far, but it works in harmony with the fruits. Later on, mint lozenges appear, accompanying fruity yoghurt, with banana slices, sliced strawberry, peach cubes and even pineapple cubes. The more time passes, the further away from stagnant water and the closer to earth the peat turns. Again, that is good news, in my opinion. Mouth: well, it feels as juicy as the Glengoyne, with strawberry smoothie, apple compote and overripe-peach slices. In terms of peat, we rely on a pinch of gunpowder, moss water and salty fishing nets. That is right: the peat influence is minimal on the palate. Although, as it swirls on the tongue, the whisky does becomes more assertively peaty, with exotic smoke and smoked tea. It is mostly a fruity affair, all the same. Finish: the smoke comes back louder than in the mouth, with smoked tea, incense, incandescent cinnamon sticks, bonfire ashes and gunpowder to complement the same fruits: bog myrtles, poached red apples, smoked strawberries, smoked banana slices, pressed apricots and diced peach flesh. It coats the mouth like a thick peach nectar, only a smoky one. Creamy milk chocolate stuffed with yellow-fruit flakes. Very, very nice, this! It confirms, as if that were necessary, that Craigduff is more my thing than Glenisla. 8/10

What the hell! Let us have another one.

122.19 16yo Oranges in a coal cellar (50.1%, SMWS Society Single Cask, Refill ex-Bourbon Barrel, 79b): nose: for once, a Croftengea that does not scream: "roasted chicken" from the glass. Warm seawater, fresh peat, straight from the bog and soggy as fook, vaguely-rancio-y elderberry, boiled cherries (what a crime!), salt-crusted strawberries, which smells as good as it sounds weird, then something more floral that I cannot place. Something between lavender and blood-red roses or red orchids. There is something rotten, behind that (decaying fish parts?) Rotten and fleeting: it was there for a third of a second, then gone. Muddy water, silt, teeming with riverbed worms, which give it a slightly meaty touch. Wet cow dung, marsh gas, cabbage water, drains, turnips... Soon, the fruit comes back. Phew! Mouth: simultaneously sweet and salty, it feels thin, gently silt-y moss water, with plenty of bog  myrtles, fresh elderberry, fallen into the mud, boiled smoked cherries, all soggy and decomposing, an odd juxtaposition of strawberry jam and Brussels-sprout cooking water... Oh! yes, it is vegetative alright. The red fruit and fresh peat keep it acceptable, however. Finish: perhaps a little whiff of roast chicken after all, though that is no match for the peaty strawberries, muddy water and ashes (only a pinch). Turnips, left to roast in the oven for too long. It is considerably peatier here than on the nose and palate, and differently so too. Sure, there is stagnant vase water, but also ash, bone-dry, smoked black tea leaves, spent matches and a dryer, earthier peat. This is more interesting than really to my taste, but it is amusing enough to like it. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, MR)