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| This counts for two of your five-a-day! |
White Horse (70° Proof, White Horse Distillers, b. 1960s): nose: strangely clean -- as in: degreased with white vinegar. Acetone, metallic kitchen surfaces, cleaned with a vinegar solution, bone-dry white wine... I was half-expecting something wild and uncouth, full of old-school peat (depending on when in the 1960s this was bottled, it may contain Malt Mill, after all), but it is far from that. The dirtiest it does is send a whiff of warm corduroy settee. Over time, that warm corduroy grows and grows. It goes from a plush townhouse to a country manor -- cue fireplace, and a game casserole being prepared in the kitchen down the corridor. Still not exactly industrial-revolution grime, nor muck-smelling farm paths, but rustic alright. Yet it goes back to white wine so dry it feels as though it will make my nose collapse for lack of moisture. Further nosing oscillates between wood-stove warmth, (very-)faint toffee, possibly lightly smoked, and dried watercolour pots. Mouth: ooft! Dry it is. Gravel, beach pebbles, long-uninhabited mussel shells. There is a salty and acrid taste that floats on an otherwise mellow texture, somewhere between avocado skin, earth patties, softly stone-baked in a wood oven, oyster sauce, and mussel soup (or is it caricoles?) with garlic butter and herbs. Most unusual! It has something remotely fruity too, likely green grapes, unrecognisable, because of the dryness of the wine that they were turned into. It is softly smoky too. Again, we are not talking about steam trains, boiler rooms, or peat furnaces, here; more smoked mussels or oysters, smoked tofu with dark soy sauce. Anyhow, it works. Finish: astonishingly, the afore-mentioned dryness all but disappears upon swallowing. Here, it is mostly (dry-)white-wine-infused caramel, or toffee. That does not last long: soon, we have a strong vine bitterness. Despite the modest strength, the finish is fairly long, if rather simple. Sadly, if those initial toffee notes are up my alley, the lasting bitterness, if tolerable, is less of a win for tOMoH. Repeated sipping changes the balance to put the emphasis on the toffee, though the bitterness dies hard. A drop of lime juice complements the picture, which is welcome, in this context. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, WK)
Happy birthday, ruckus!
Thank you! :)
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