Clydeside 6yo Napier (46%, Cask Sample, Oloroso Sherry Casks): a mysterious sample that does not read more than 'Napier 46%' [it will become obvious on 28/06/2024 that this is a pre-release sample of Clydeside's Napier, named so to celebrate Robert Napier's shipyard]. Nose: warmed, hardened rubber, caramelised sugar, Bakelite, burnt cake crust, wood shelves polished so long ago that almost all scent has vanished. A drop of orange juice joins the party, somewhat later on, far from exuberant. On its tail is shoe polish, then empty plastic bottles, baked in the scorching sun. What is striking is how sequential all those aromas are; no dance, no interplay: they do show up one after the other, without as much as a handshake. Mouth: inoffensive, middle-of-the-road. It recycles the notes from the nose, i.e., warm plastic bottles, orange juice (not freshly squeezed, by the way), middle-aged shelves, which gives a noticeable bitterness, and burnt sugar. The second sip appears bitterer and fruitier, with the addition of chewy dried orange peels. Finish: caramelised orange juice spilled on wooden shelves and Bakelite. Not much more to say. It is warming, unpretentious and uncomplicated, clearly designed to be drunk, not tasted, and it would probably liven up a social event neat, on ice, or in a cocktail (with crème caramel, a slice of orange, and a plastic stirrer). The second gulp may have a spoonful of melted milk chocolate, which is nice. Unfussy, uninteresting. 6/10 (Thanks for the sample, DH)
Have we time for another one? Chain Pier would be a phonetically logical follow-up, but that will be for another time. The next best thing is...
Imperial d.1969 (40%, Gordon & MacPhail Connoisseurs Choice, b. ca. 1983): the full bottle in the same livery is a fourteen year-old. It is relatively safe to assume this is the same juice. Nose: phwoar! What a difference. A strong OME, of course, with ground pepper and musty dust. I get vivid flashbacks of a friend's parents' disused sauna, in the early 1990s. It was in working order, but, for years, had laid dormant, gathered dust, and been used as a tool shed. That and its exposure to the sun made it acquire a dusty-wood, earthy smell, not unpleasant, if pungent. Well, this here Imperial is very similar, both in profile and intensity. Next to that, we also observe oily nuts (gathering dust too) and pickle brine, unless it is polished avocado stones. Swiftly, we come back to earthy tones, now cool forest floor and potting soil, perhaps augmented with fallen petals. The second nose has logs covered in lichen and moss, pears turning mouldy, and limestone pulled out of a riverbed, dried, but covered in lichen and algae. Oh! and a touch of lemon mint to boot. In the long run, the nose's earthiness takes on a farm-y side, dusty farm paths and clods of rich earth from the field, mixed with ashes to rejuvenate the soil. Mouth: for the first time in so many years of trying brown-label Connoisseurs Choice miniatures, it feels a tad watery, and I blame the sequence, rather than any loss of strength, despite the level being lower than it must have been at first (see picture). Once one gets accustomed to it being lower in alcohol than the Napier, it paints a fruity-flowery picture, with orchard fruits and mint -- apple, white peach, nectarine, minty yoghurt, and a wooden board, in the background, still teasing the mind with those sauna benches. The second sip has cold marinated-mushroom salad, for a wee bit, which ends up overtaken by pine honey on a Biscotte. Indeed, it becomes surprisingly sweet and fresh, while displaying the soft acidity of fresh pine cones. Finish: gently warming, it remains fruity (warm apple compote, baked nectarines) and fresh (warm lemon-mint custard), pushing the wooden benches to the background, yet it also adds a whisper of smoke. Fruit-tree smoke, it perhaps goes without saying. Not much -- if any -- of the pepper makes it this far, though that is not to say this is not spicy; it is closer to ground mace and sumac is all. The second gulp focuses on fresh and fruity, steering towards pine-honey-glazed (Golden Delicious) apple slices, served with chopped lemon mint. It has a very minor sparkly bitterness at the death, dried lemon-tonic residue in an empty glass the morning after, and still that soft smoke. I am led to believe these minis are all good. 8/10 (With a nod to BAl, whose sauna I have never used)
It would appear we had tried the Imperial previously. Ah, well. It was a decade ago, and another bottle.
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