Far from me the idea of partaking in Dryanuary, yet after the deluge of good drams in December, why not prolong this break from Scots whisky? Well, at least for another few days, that is. Then, we will have an occasion to mark.
Buton Prunella (40 gr., OB, b.1940s): nose: to paraphrase or quote JS: "when one is in the presence of greatness, one knows it." This is obviously a fruit brandy, and this is obviously not yer run-off-the-mill. It has depth, richness, and complexity alright. Prunes, dark grapes, rehydrated sultanas, lingonberry compote, yet also mushrooms and moist humus. One would be easily convinced that this has rubbery tree bark too. We see a gardener, in the early spring, potting tagetes with green rubber gloves, and snacking on prunes, in between pots. The second nose brings steamed onion skins into view, which is unusual to say the least. Mouth: my word! They are not lying with the "liquore finissimo" denomination. Despite being bottled at 40% ('gr.' stands for 'gradi', which means 'degrees', and equate to % ABV, in case that was not clear), this is sweet, syrupy, and intense as a liqueur. Unlike the Southern Comfort from the other day, however, this one is elegant, and delicious, all glowing natural fruit sugars. Prunes, rehydrated dried dates, figs, soaked currants, date syrup, and dark honeys dripping from the spoon. We also find caramelised-apple tart dripping syrupy juices. The second sip adds lily-of-the-valley and jasmine, and piles on more thick syrup, however inconceivable that may read. Treacle tart, maybe? Cotton candy too? I want to say grenadine, but that does not seem right. If grenadine tasted like this, I would drink more of it. Finish: phwoar! How good is this? Imagine a thirty-year-old Matusalem Sherry, dump buckets of raisins into it, and you will get an approximation of this here "liqueur." Long, coating, undeniably sweet, yet elegant nonetheless. Raisins, prunes, juicy figs, rehydrated dried dates, tatters of lychee, all coated in lovely pouring manuka honey. Repeated gulping unveils a dollop of chestnut purée in a bowl of honey that is poured onto raisins. Beyond that, and a little hidden, really, is the distinctive taste of fresh cranberries -- and that is the final touch that lingers for a long, long time. Unexpectedly breath-taking. 9/10 (Thanks for the sample, WhiskyLovingPianist)
No comments:
Post a Comment