18/05/2022 St. Magdalene

St. Magdalene 26yo 1982/2009 (59.1%, Douglas Laing for The Whisky Shop Glenkeir Treasures Cask Strength Selection, 144b): nose: a superb mix of dried herbs and heady flowery bushes. It is hawthorn, honeysuckle, oregano and tarragon, in no particular order. The herbs are quickly overtaken by the fragrant flowers, however, reduced to macerating twigs in a posh grappa. There are squashed bunches of green grapes that give the nose a sweet air, and then the herbs come back in full force -- thyme, rosemary, marjoram and citrus foliage. When looking hard for the minerality that St Magdalene often displays, one may detect a whisper of flint, very subtle. More fruit comes up, straight after that; prunes, macerated plums, and even peaches in their velvety skin. Strangely enough, the second nose smells like a cheap blend, for a second. Leafy tones then takes over to introduce peachy marzipan. A couple of drops of water turn the nose into a bed of yellow flowers, not particularly fragrant, but unmistakable. Maybe, just maybe, there is now a hint of sulphur, before dark-grape juice appears. Mouth: it is assertive from the get-go, full of caramelised peaches, dried herbs (thyme and marjoram), spices, and also a tiny smoke. The spices in question are chilli powder, ground cloves, ground cinnamon, barely noticeable, ginger powder, and smoked paprika. It has more flint on the tongue than the nose promised, yet it is coated in juicy peach flesh. The second sip seems fresher and fruitier; it stays spicy, less hot. This now has hot metal and strong lemon thyme. Water tames it entirely: it is now a charming, juicy, fruity number with an added drop of manuka honey. Finish: bold, warming, impressive and, ultimately, comforting. Here is a tart made with underripe plums, sprinkled with oregano, and served on slate (or flint) plates. It is pretty spicy in the finish too, even if it is not off the scale. Ginger powder, ground cardamom, sawn hazel wood. The flowery notes from the nose are nowhere to be found, and the fruit, if present, is very much stone fruit (peach, plum) -- and the stone comes out louder than the flesh. The second sip changes that: it puts some juicy fruit flesh back onto the stones and shakes the flowery bushes, allowing a few honeysuckle and magnolia petals to fall from the tree. It has got mint lozenges too, by now, which harks back to the newfound freshness of the palate. The death brings a herbal bitterness to mind (rosemary, grape-pip oil), and leaves the mouth dry, as if one had been sucking on rocks. The effect of the serious ABV, certainly. Water confirms the mint lozenges. Apple mint rocks up, sugar in copious doses (amazingly, it does not turn sickly) and lashes of fruit that are now more subdued. There is a ghostly charcoal-y or sulphur-y presence, slightly-burnt marmalade, though, even if paying close attention, one could easily miss it, or not identify it (hence my use of the word 'ghostly'). This is amazing. 9/10