The first in a series of samples received as part of recent purchases.
Nose: this starts well, with a refined Sherry influence -- drinks cabinets, a gentlemen's club's billiard room, wood-panelled rooms and rancio. Interestingly, that turns tertiary within seconds, with mushrooms growing on damp potting soil, the clay floor of a dark cellar, bits of wood in a dank shed, but also fleeting marzipan and a drop of nut liqueur -- and that liqueur goes from almond to walnut in less time than it takes to tell (and I felt like being numb like, felt like, mesmerised -- for those who know). Shaking the glass some more reveals a chicken casserole in which red wine was added to the broth, and, finally, a weathered Teflon baking tray. The second nose is more vegetative, giving marsh gas, cabbage cooking water, and boiled Brussels sprouts. Oh! it retains a vague fruitiness, in a liqueur way, but it is less elegant than initially. Mouth: it is a rocky number, with pebbles and gravel splashed with a sweet fortified red wine, augmented with a dash of mercurochrome. It has a gentle bitterness, and quite a kick too. Chewing emphasises the bitter mercurochrome, and perhaps exposes chargrilled red chicory. The second sip seems fruitier, amusingly enough; grapes smashed on a millstone. Chewing brings up shrubs and twigs of sorts, probably vine, and cranks up the heat to chilli levels (nowhere near Naga Morich, though), which triggers a slight numbness in the lips. Finish: sweet at first, it clearly showcases what a good Sherry (Pedro Ximénez) maturation can give. Then, it turns muskier and drier, and it becomes difficult not to think of a Fino instead -- fruity, boozy, and more mineral, or even abrupt. It is indeed sharper and drier as a bone-dry white wine, and more plastic-y. I have always found Fino Sherry's taste to be closer to that of plastic grapes than to ripe, juicy ones. Yes, I have tried eating plastic grapes, unknowingly, I might add, at a Yugoslavian restaurant, as a child; formative experience. The second gulp has dark-chocolate liqueur pralines (Mon Chéri), Cognac, and a dusting of quarry chippings. In faithful continuation of the mouth, the heat leaves the lips tingling, while the gob is processing nutty liqueur. Solid. But what is it?
Crabbie 30yo 1988/2019 (53.5%, John Crabbie Limited Edition, 528b) 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, Whisky-Online)
I knowingly sucked on a plastic grape in a furniture store in Lewes, as you do.
ReplyDeleteHmm hmm, delicious! Never came up as a tasting note, however.
Delete