While trying to find something from 1992, I came upon this. It seems adequate for today.
Linlithgow 26yo 1975/2001 (50.2%, Scotch Single Malt Circle, C#96/3/15): nose: here is a big, hairy, meaty nose, much to my surprise. Then again, considering how pale some older St Magadalenes have been, this may very well stem from a sherry cask. It has cured meat, Madeira wine, prunes in a wine sauce, pickled onions, a mix of berries sizzling in butter or in lard -- yes! Lard it is. Nail-varnish remover and heady peonies, musk, wet cats and horse's sweat. Whoever thinks that Lowlanders are all nondescript clearly has not tried many St Magdalene/Linlithgows! Over time, the obvious sherry slows down and makes room for meadow flow- no! Gone. The wine-y, musky notes are back in full swing. Intermittently and fleetingly, they open up to let meadow flowers through (corn flowers and periwinkles eventually turn into daffodils), as well as flint and lime juice. Emphasis on the word 'fleeting', however. The second nose adds forest floor, decaying leaves, mushrooms past their prime and woodworm, walnuts, fallen off the tree and oozing wood stain. Mouth: big and challenging, it has the musk and the wine sauce, yet what easily dominates the tongue are flint and limestone, heated to just below splitting point, as well as bone-dry white wine. Sauvignon blanc does not come close to describing how dry this is. It is closer to to licking ground bones, or an ashtray in which white wine was spilled and subsequently evaporated. Chewing on it for a minute or two allows a clear fruitiness to grow (green grapes), yet there is no sweetness whatsoever, here! The second sip is acidic in a cider-vinegar way, for a moment at least: shortly, it goes back to what it showcases best, that is to say: ash and dry white wine. Finish: surprisingly short and discreet, after the assault on the palate, it leaves an ethereal sensation in the mouth. A lot fruitier here, yet just as dry. White-wine residue in an empty glass the morning after, rightly crystallised where the stem meets the bulb, and also tobacco ash. The second gulp is no longer discreet at all -- quite the opposite! Wide, acidic and ashy, dry as fook, it has ground fruit stones (unripe peach) and that flinty white wine that seems to suck all moisture from the tongue, as if chewing on quarry dust. Fortunately, there is also quite a bit of fruit to make it more than just an intellectual dram. In fact, it is good, though not a crowd-pleaser. It is a hard one. Now that it is no longer our first encounter, I like it, but I cannot shake off the feeling I would score it more harshly, were it from another distillery. It is challenging, and, for that alone, I find it interesting. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, MR)
What? We have time for another dram?
Linlithgow 24yo d.1975 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#96/3/4): nose: although obviously a sister cask (from Signatory Vintage's stocks, no doubt), these two are pretty different. This one is much less meaty. In fact, it is full of flowery goodness, with jasmine, daffodils, tulips and especially forsythia. It is dripping with spring-flower nectar that would make a bumblebee go crazy. Lush and lovely. Honeysuckle, magnolia and honey on toasts. It hints at a faint bitterness, which underlines the sappy flowers, yet it is mostly fragrant and spring-like. The second nose supplies a kind of apricot liqueur, or indeed apricot eau-de-vie, since it smells not that sweet, apricot croissant (buttery pastry, in other words) and a bunch of green grapes. Mouth: the affiliation with the previous dram is more noticeable on the palate, where a certain dryness and minerality appear. It is nowhere near as dry as the other one, but it is not overtly sweet either. We have Semillon or Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, at a push, not Sauvignon blanc. The tongue meets a fruity juiciness, accompanied by bitter flower sap and granite chippings. The second sip seems mellower still, and a tad sweeter, though it does not lose the dryness entirely. It does have apricot flesh, lush and fruity, yet it is still sprinkled with granite dust -- chewing long enough makes that abundantly clear! That said, each sip seems to tone down that impression. Probably after a full bottle is it no longer rocky. :-) Finish: in the continuity of the nose and mouth, we have yellow flowers, a drop of flower sap, a mild rocky touch, and, this time, more-pronounced pastry. Stone-baked apricot turnovers, almond triangles, custard. Mind you, it is tarragon custard! An unexpected combination, that herbaceousness with pastry, yet it works a treat. The mouth feels as it does after having a snack from the bakery in a quarry: it is coated with rock dust, even if anyone would struggle to call it austere. At the death, unripe pineapple slices rock up (woah! Nice pun, there, tOMoH), bitter, if fruity and showing promises of a sweetness to come. I like this one even better. It wows me as much as it did the first time. 9/10
Happy birthday, MR!
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