30/12/2023 Glenlivet

Glenlivet d.1951 (70° Proof, Gordon & MacPhail, b. 1970s): nose: it all starts quietly, and slowly unveils wax, encaustic, cured apricot slices, tiramisù, and Madeira biscuits. Perhaps marzipan too. It is frustratingly hard to get, today. Covering the glass for a bit helps soaked raisins and prune juice come out a bit. Something on the mineral tip too -- is it slate? Iron ore? Tilting the glass brings out a soft fragrance akin to a classy Cologne (the 1984 edition of Hoggar comes to mind).  There is also little of it, which means it is pleasantly elusive, rather than invasive. The second nose is a little louder, and shows off burnt wood and burnt jam, or caramelised compote. In the longer term, empty cardboard fruit crates come into the picture, a little dusty, and impregnated with fruity scents. There is a dash of coffee too, or chicory infusion, extremely faint. It may be mocha chocolate instead, actually. The nose ends up with a rustic air about it; the sort one would find in the kitchen of a grandmother living in the countryside: gas stove too hot for too long, food smells trapped for days for lack of ventilation, cuisine too rich, a pot of coffee, warm full-fat milk from the farm. Unhealthy, but endearing. Mouth: mellow and juicy-sweet, it has almond paste, re-hydrated currants of all sorts, a drop of melted chocolate, and mocha ice cream. The second sip is properly old school: it offers an inextricable blend of dusty cardboard, earthy coffee grounds, caramelised marmalade, and Bourbon Cream biscuits. There is a warm moka pot in there too. Chewing on it pushes earthy tones forward, mostly coffee grounds, but also black cumin. The texture started thinnish, yet turns milky with that chewing. Raisins and currants make a come-back, earthier than before. Finish: ah! This is where the fun is. It is more warming than one might have expected, and dishes out chocolate left and right. Warm chocolate milk, melted milk chocolate, chocolate-chip cookies, and chocolate custard. It has a diffuse veil of smoke too, slightly acrid, unless that is the bitterness of cocoa powder. Some burnt-wood scrapings emerge, as do caramelised (almost-charred) apricots. The second sip is coating like a chewy, rich chocolate-chip butter cookie, and leaves a soft bitterness of unsweetened almond paste. Then, we have butterscotch, raisin-topped warm custard (part vanilla, part chocolate), and fluffy pains au chocolat, with or without jam. It feels very breakfast-y a finish, in fact. A creamy breakfast. Really an excellent dram. If not paying close attention, it would be easy to overlook it as generic 8/10 fodder, but I will go higher. I simply wish it were more assertive. 9/10 (Thanks for the sample, adc, and happy birthday)