27/02/2023 Glenlochy

Glen Lochy 14yo (50%, Burn Stewart Distillers specially selected for The Whisky Shop The Select Hogshead, Sherry Casks) : nose: ha! ha! Glenlochy alright, with flint, gravel, granite, marble chippings, and bone-dry white wine. Said wine gives more and more fruit (Sauvignon blanc grapes, obviously), but also quite the dose of ash. In fact, it is half-burnt vine branches, with a few leaves still hanging on for dear life. We then have very-old cut pear-tree wood, covered in lichen and dust, apple-cider vinegar, and a dash of crushed green grapes and -- wait for it! -- celery sticks that give the whole a faintly nutty sort of fruitiness. Very original. Still, that ash lurks in the background. The second nose is a little darker; it adds some kind of blackcurrant paste to the above for good measure. It is subtle, yet also a lovely pencil-eraser touch. Later on, it emits a whiff of nail lacquer too, and, perhaps, after-shave lotion. Those too contribute to making the nose more welcoming than at first sniff. Water mellows it out dramatically. It is still full of white wine, but this time, it is Chardonnay, or Chenin blanc -- Petit Chablis or Sancerre come to mind, i.e. fruitier and less indomitably dry. Now, it even has pineapple Gummibärchen (the lightest ones). Mind you, the distant background still has ash. It is not a sugarfest, all of a sudden. Mouth: woah! The attack is acidic and a half. It has got some fiercely-dry grapes -- Sauvignon blanc does not cover it: we are talking Grenache blanc, Muscadet, or Vinho Verde. The mouth feels as if it were shrinking, its mass depleted of any moisture, and therefore plummeting. That rather austere first impression is not all ash and dust, however: once the taste buds have agreed to let go of their moisture, they pick up just how savagely fruity the grapes are. The second sip sees the addition of nectarine juice. The texture turns a little thicker, likely because the initial acidity slows down a notch. That also allows a bitterer note to permeate, more vine leaves than grapes, at this stage. Only now does it become clearer just how warm this is! Hot, dusty boilers, and old tools in the green house. The reduced palate is in line with the reduced nose, somewhat sweeter, with Gummibärchen and white wine. It falls somewhere between the extreme dryness of the unreduced palate and the fruitiness of the reduced nose. Marsanne or Roussane grapes? There is an earthy quality to it too, which is a neat addition. Ash, on the other hand, is less prominent. Finish: sharp, narrow, precise, it is acidic once more, and fairly green, in the vegetal sense. Not that it feels unripe, or overly bitter -- no! It simply tastes quite leafy. Vine leaves and celery foliage complement the grapes that had hogged the spotlight thus far, making for a more wholesome experience. The second gulp is a strangely-successful porridge of oats, celery sticks, crushed blackcurrants, and acidic gooseberries (pips and all), served warm in an old copper bowl. Further sips even add a dollop of maple syrup -- served with a copper spoon: it does not let go of the copper, really. With water, it remains fruity and rather dry, probably drier than without water, bizarrely enough (drier than dry?) It is fruit that shines, though, with candied apples, flash-frozen plump grapes, sherbet, grape sorbet, and unripe honeydew melon. Nice!  8/10 (Thanks for the sample, DW)