25/08/2023 Glenturret

Glenturret 1966/1987 (43%, OB ceramic decanter, 500b): perhaps one will remember this as the opening dram at this tasting. Nose: unusual and a little weird, this nose has a drop of acetone on old leather, and a dash of pickle brine on cardboard. It is odd and puzzling, but it is a Glenturret from that era, after all; they are not exactly known for their easy, appealing profile. It grows warmer with the next sniff, in a lighter-fluid way, and the briny cardboard morphs into greasy newspapers that were used to serve fish and chips, which is to say we can smell oil and malt vinegar, I suppose. Deeper nosing gives a fleeting impression of a bathroom's downpipes, after the cleaners have mopped the floors (detergent, moisture, and funk, in other words). Even further on, a coconut door mat appears that comes pretty close to a bear-skin rug by a fireplace -- musky, rough, drying, and warming, all at once. Brine and acetone remind us that they are part of the ride too, though. The second nose seems cleaner: bathroom disinfectant without the funk, and even a dusting of cosmetic powder. Finally, distant nuts appear -- a bowl of walnuts left out for a week, that have gone soft and stale. Brine and vinegar still gently show their faces on and off. Mouth: with a soft and honeyed attack and the texture of pouring honey, the palate is clearly sweet with natural sugar. There are dried chilli flakes in golden pouring honey that is spread on cardboard. The latter becomes more obvious and more briny as one swirls the liquid in the mouth, yet it remains stupendously honeyed throughout. A pleasant surprise. The second sip has candied strawberries, which is even more surprising. They are half-dunked into liqueur. Perhaps that is what gives this an almost-almond-y bitterness. It is lukewarm and fizzy, and, if it remains on the sweet side, it certainly has less honey than before. In fact, it seems thinner with each sip, slowly but surely going from a pouring-honey consistency to some kind of dissolvent, over the course of four sips. Nutty and sweet it stays, however. Finish: mellow, it offers walnut cream, and a dollop of honey to accompany it. There is a certain bitterness to this finish, and it still comes across as a bit of an oddball, yet it is closer to walnut skins than it is to brine on cardboard, now. It also leaves the tongue craving for more. The second gulp tickles the gums with a gentle spiciness that showcases spearmint, stem ginger, and candied mace. Here too, the sweetness survives, though it is less easy to associate it with honey. Over time, cardboard seems to grow bolder -- a worn-out cardboard box, collapsed, then splattered with crumbly dry earth and soot. That is right: an acrid, tarry dust ends up coating the uvula. The least one can say is that this is not a boring whisky! 7/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

Happy birthday, MV!