JS and I take advantage out of being in Paris to visit La Maison du Whisky's famous partner bar. We are taken to a gorgeous room in an old vaulted cellar. It is noisy and a half, and pretty dark. So dark, in fact, that my old eyes cannot read the menu. I can see it has several pages of whiskies, and, after a while, I even figure out that none of them is that interesting. The selection is vast, but pedestrian, and what little is appealing is especially expensive.
I ask the waiter if they have another whisky list. No. Ready to walk out and already thinking of the all-out merciless review I will leave on t'Interwebz, I explain I am very disappointed, that the Web site promised hundreds of collector bottles that are apparently not available, even when someone posted a picture on bookface of a Clynelish bottled for Sestante they had yesterday in this very establishment. The bloke asks me what in particular I am after. I tell him they seemed to have, for example, a forty-year-old Lochside bottled by Signatory, but that I cannot make a final choice without seeing a list. He seems as puzzled as if I had asked him to prove to me why Einstein was wrong when he claimed e=mc², and leaves with a few words about talking to his manager.
Over the next fifteen minutes, he will come and go, stopping a couple of times to apologise: his manager is "finishing something else" and will be with us "in a minute."
When the manager finally comes to us, he is just as lost as his colleague, and acts as if I were talking to him in Flemish when I ask for a list of the whiskies on offer. That is all they have, he says, showing the menu that his colleague gave us. "I expected you had a selection of collectors," I tell him, as I stand up to leave, internally cursing him, his colleague, the place, Paris and the French at large for what would seem like false advertisement, or a blatant piss-take.
"Oh, but the collectors are in another room," he says at last. "Follow me."
He takes us to a quieter, better-lit room in another vaulted cellar. No other customer, soft jazz, desirable bottles everywhere. Jackpot. Not sure if that was a test or a genuine misunderstanding, but it no longer matters. We have reached our happy place.
Here, we are welcomed by S, soft-mannered, soft-spoken, yet passionate and knowledgeable. In between interacting with customers, he spends his time flipping records (yup, he is playing vinyl) and reading whisky books. What an improvement from the first room!
tOMoH: "It is water."
S: "Water is OK, but no cocktail. They have to be drunk in the other room."
tOMoH: "I see. Well, it is just water."
He apologises profusely for having a list on stapled paper sheets only: the latest bound book is out of date, and the new one has not yet been bound. Full of disbelief regarding who would give a toss*, we get to work.
(*) Sadly, Paris is full of tossers who value presentation over content, and will only want to spend large sums of money on legendary whiskies, if said large sums are written in golden ink on unicorn-leather parchment, apparently.
I stupidly left my notebook at home, but manage to borrow pages from the bar's. In fact, S gives me a whole plush notebook; I politely decline, though: more weight, and more notebooks I do not need. Hopefully, it will help someone else.
Glen Keith 38yo 1967/2006 (53%, Gordon & MacPhail Reserve exclusively for La Maison du Whisky, Refill Sherry Butt, C#3876, 215b, JF/CFI): nose: a sucker punch of sweet wood spices and pastry goodness. Here are cinnamon buns, gingerbread, just a whiff of fusty bung cloth, encaustic, pine resin, and shoe glue. Later on, we have oily rags and leather shoes -- yes: it smells of feet, a little. Old tennis shoes and sweaty socks. Propolis too, thankfully, and I am sure there is a smidge of marzipan, in there, somewhere. Mouth: oh! my, so spicy on the tongue, with tons of resin, crushed pine cones, a pinch of soot and suet. It is pine-y, cedar-y, even, elegant, and not over the top, in terms of spiciness, though it is clearly not shy either. Finish: more noble resin, perhaps augmented with raisins. Pastry comes out of the haze: cinnamon-bun rolls, pain aux raisins. It is ginger-y, not splinter-y, lemongrass-y, not bitter. Lovely. 8/10
Glen Grant 59yo 1952/2011 (49.2%, Gordon & MacPhail The Dram Taker's exclusively bottled for La Maison du Whisky, Refill American Hogshead, C#1134, 48b, AA/AJIB): the back label ridiculously states 49.200000000000003%. Wonder if they forgot a '0'. Nose: initially, it has a deep exotic-wood fragrance. Just the time for one joke, and it switches to muddy earth and tropical fruits. Grapefruit rinds, juicy blush-orange peels, then those take off and become the segments of the same fruits -- pink and white grapefruits, blush orange... then Chinese gooseberry! Incredibly, it still will not shake off the mud entirely. Amazing. It dries up a little over time, with pinches of dusty earth coming through, in the shadow of the fruits. Encaustic makes a late appearance -- and how could it not, in a whisky of this age? Mouth: juicy and boldly bitter, as if the peel of a cucumber had been dropped into an acidic fruit juice. The second sip brings tawed leather, faded moccasins and grated nutmeg. Finish: big, assertive and acidic. It has a perfect balance of fruit, wood and voltage; and it lasts forever too! Fresh as mint, but with the acidity of grapefruit and the texture of grapefruit skins. Simply a masterclass in elegance. 9/10
A group of noisy nouveaux riches enter, complete with a dog. They order large doses of bold whiskies (Amrut, Kavalan, Octomore). It is, of course, their prerogative, yet I would have preferred not to be privy to all their conversations. Even though they are in a separate room, they are that loud.
Bruichladdich 15yo 1965/1980 (43%, OB imported by Samaroli Import Samaroli's Collection Mayflower '80 for the 360th Anniversary of the Sailing of the Mayflower distributed by Moonimport, 1000b, ceramic decanter): nose: exuberantly wine-y, with pressed grapes ahoy, which makes me think of Pedro Ximénez immediately, and musky hairballs (yes!) Further nosing reveals a dusty, salty profile that one might expect from a ceramic decanter of that era. It is perhaps a little generic, but hey! Prunes, raisins, dried dates... Nice! A couple of hours in, it has turned much more animal, with marinated meat, grilled ribs on a pine-wood fire. Mouth: surprisingly big and punchy, it has an earthier aspect, even though it retains the dried fruits' sweetness and their lush character. Hours in, we have a more rubbery profile, coated in syrupy raisin juice that suggests an Oloroso maturation. Meow. Finish: another surprise, here: it punches like a champ, with quite some salt, earth again, very bold dried fruits, and horsepower aplenty. It does not feel particularly complex, but it is good, and stunningly powerful, for 43% ABV! 8/10
Glenlivet 41yo 1949/1990 (40%, Gordon & MacPhail The Dram Taker's imported by S. Fassbind, crystal decanter): nose: ever-changing, this goes from furniture polish to wax, to forest-fruit jam and back. We have lots of strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, blackberries, perhaps a small quantity of elderberry too. What a head spin! This may even have dark cherries too, black as night. Later on, pouring honey appears. Mouth: juicy and fruity, it quickly develops a softly-rubbery note, perhaps liquorice bootlaces. That hints at more blackberries than on the nose, probably. Indeed, the fruit seems darker now, not as red as the bouquet promised. But then, there is a stubborn hue of smashed raspberry, in the back of the palate, too. Beautiful. Finish: splendid. Just splendid. Juicy cherries, raspberries, and cut flowers, such as jasmine and Japanese honeysuckle. We also have fior di latte. Masterpiece. 10/10
Glencadam d.1975 (43%, La Maison du Whisky Sélection imported and distributed by SNPA): the first-ever LMdW bottling. Judging by the volume (75cl), it was bottled in 1991 at the very latest. Nose: pebbles and damp rocks, bone-dry white wine, maybe a whiff of old plastic, washed ashore. After a bit, violet boiled sweets emerge, as do other types of sweets (Twin Cherries come to mind). The second nose turns sugary, adding edible wafer paper to the mix. Coming back to it after the next dram, it has fluffy white petals and Indian-restaurant smells, unidentifiable with certainty. Finally, burning smoked wood takes over, unless it is church incense. Mouth: well, it is very close to a dry white wine; fruity, elegant, borderline refreshing. It soon comes back toward violet boiled sweets, then crystallised lavender and stale chewy cola sweets. Finish: assertive, not bold, it has the frank fruitiness of white wine again (I want to say a Chenin blanc from the Loire valley, but that is merely suggestion), and the faintly-chemical sweetness of Twin Cherries. It dances on the palate for a bit, and fades out with distinction. What a delicious surprise! 9/10
Clynelish 37yo 1972/2010 (58.9%, Gordon & MacPhail The Dram Taker's exclusively bottled for La Maison du Whisky, Refill Sherry Hogshead, C#14300, AJ/AABB): another one with a label that laughably reads 58.899999999999999%. We tried the 36yo C#14301 a couple of years ago. Nose: without surprise, it exhibits death by wax. It is furniture wax to start with, then car polish, to finish with propolis and physalis, with a glass of beeswax, augmented with wax-stained rags. Candle wax is missing, but the candle on the table is a decent subterfuge. Mouth: pretty peppery, and we can really feel the steep climb in alcohol, compared to the previous drams. It will not burn, though -- just warm one up. The various waxes resurface, topped with a delicious rubber bitterness, minimal, yet noticeable. Finish: wide, generous, waxy and warming, ripe with baked apricot and physalis, maybe mirabelle plum too. There is a drop of engine oil and a lick of tyre. The second sip has burnt apricot, harmoniously balanced with the juicy fruit's flesh. Magnificent. 9/10
Well, once we reached the right place, it became a great little evening.
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| Good to meet Wallace, too! |
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