09/08/2021 Hillside

Glenesk, Hillside, Montrose. To-may-to, to-mah-to.

Hillside 25yo 1971/1997 (62%, OB Rare Malts Selection, b#0914): leftover from this tasting, ahem, almost five years ago. Nose: firstly, it clears the nostrils. Secondly, it is a big, robust Highlander, not too rugged, but pretty intimidating nonetheless. It has a lot of metal, in a tool-shed way, ground avocado stones, then verdigris and gravel -- the moss-covered shingles at the bottom of an emptied aquarium. The more one sniffs it, the more it goes back to the tool shed: oxidised gardening tools with wooden handles, leather gardening gloves, dried to the point they have lost all flexibility, an old bottle of fertiliser and sacks of hazelnuts, harvested seventeen seasons ago. And then, it reveals more metallic notes: hacksaws, sickles or scythes, chainsaw oil, old rakes with a few dead leaves between the teeth. The second nose seems a little grassier, in a freshly-mowed-lawn sort of way, and has walnut oil to boot. With water, the austerity is dialled down. Oh! It remains a robust Highlander that smells like whisky, yet it now also has jam on toast and preserved lemons to accompany a wool plaid and hot, cast-iron fire pokers or tongs. Mouth: big. Very big. It has shovelfuls of ash, dried tree bark, rancio, wine residue, lichen, ground hazelnut shells. The texture is frighteningly acidic, stripping, even. All that fortunately calms down, after a wee while, even though it does not become welcoming in the slightest. The old garden tools come back alongside chainsaw oil and nutshells. In the long run, roasted apricot stones and, in fact, all kinds of fruit stones appear. It would be a mistake to think this is fruity, however. It turns a little creamier as the mouth gets accustomed to the brutal ABV, but it is well bitter. As it did on the nose, water cranks up a jammy-toast note; pepper is liberally sprinkled on that jam, as is ground sumac. Finish: warming, not hot, the finish is very long and has its difficult aspects, namely the musk of a wet cat. It is hairy, dry and drying, with metal aplenty (if you have ever licked a razor blade, or a pencil-sharpener blade, this is it), and some herbs (marjoram, dried dill, tarragon). Repeated sipping brings chocolate into the mix; an interestingly-herbal chocolate. Not mint chocolate -- no! More like marjoram chocolate, enhanced with ground pepper. It is much more pleasant than it may read. Kaffir lime leaves are the last thing to show up... Or are they bergamot leaves? Water confirms the bergamot leaves, this time with a bit of fruit too. Old tools subsist, even if they are less invasive, lichen on stones, mould-covered citrus and marjoram, still. Retro-nasal olfaction sees a butter knife recently used to cut a slice of frangipane tart that is slowly being covered in mould. Challenging dram. I like it, but I do not think I could drink lots of it. 7/10