31/08/2021 Glenrothes

Two Glenrothes in a month, can you believe it?

Glenrothes 21yo 1975/1996 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#6051): nose: youthful, green and lively, this has herbaceous notes aplenty, with vine leaves (dolmas), hay bales, but also kelp and other seaweeds. Then, we have dark ink, mushy, decaying parsley, kale and ivy. It also develops a more austere aspect, much more mineral; limestone, slate, graphite. Those are punctuated by lichen. Somehow, this nose also manages to emit laundry detergent, though it is not soapy in the slightest; one could safely assume it is flowers instead I suppose, yet it has that characteristic touch of fresh flowers and humid fabric that makes me think of laundry. Mind you, after a while, it resembles a fruity white wine, even. Later on, it is unripe-melon rind (cantaloupe), frolicking in damp clay. In the long run, the nose becomes more overtly fruity, with waxy mandarins -- and old wax too. Mouth: hot and, initially, earthy, it then turns more acidic and vaguely smoky, in a scorched-earth way, although weeks after the facts. Vine bark augmented with the velvety sweetness of green-grape flesh, a tiny bitter note of grape pips, and grape-pip oil too, as well as roasted hazelnuts. Perhaps a dollop of plasticine, too. The heat hints at fierce spearmint, rather than chilli, when taking a second sip, and that comes along a gentle cork-like feel: bitter, waxy, and covered in microscopic sugar crystals. The mouthfeel is on the thin, milky side. It has a distant note of wax, without any of the texture that goes with it. Finish: short and unexpectedly chocolate-y, here. Oh! The acidity and bitterness are well present, yet they are balanced by delicious, creamy milk chocolate. The second sip brings back some of the herbaceous character, without turning leafy; mint custard, rather than mint on its own, kale smoothie, mâche salad (valerianella locusta) doused with a simple dressing, grapefruit yoghurt, and chewy fruit sweets (Fruitella). Decent without being too special. Funny to see how different it felt on the night. Same score, all the same. 7/10

26/08/2021 Glen Grantages

Glen Grant 20yo d.1976 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#2880): nose: exotic woods (teak, mahogany and iroko) and rancio join forces for a gently-dusty nose that also feels rather oily (the teak, certainly). The longer it sits in the glass, the oilier and more solvent-y it seems to get, with more teak oil, decking stain and wood varnish. Suddenly, pastry comes out of nowhere: bakewell tart and plum pie. Soon, the woody/solvent-y side comes back, along with toasted notes of oily cake crust sticking to the tin mould. After nosing the second dram, this first one seems fruitier, even if it means unripe gooseberries, in this particular case. Come to think of it, it might as well be pomegranate seeds. And then, chestnut shells, Brazil nuts... Let us face it: this is a woody affair. Further nosing brings forth old planks left in a garden shed for decades, moss-covered staves, yet also pressed currants. Although the label would not say, the colour hints at an ex-Sherry cask, after all. Mouth:  juicy and sweet, this has apricot nectar oozing from every drop -- the organic kind; one in which a few stones have been blended in by mistake. There is a certain woody bitterness too, rising unannounced and invading the mouth, amassing against the roof of the mouth, specifically. Sawdust, old bookshelves crumbling into dust, a heap of logs, half-eaten by lichen. Yes, it is fruity, woody, yet not without something greener to it too. The second sip feels more clearly bitter (as in: berries that are not quite ripe), yet also more acidic, perhaps with a strawberry-vinegar note. In fact, it is likely pomegranate seeds again. Finally, the wood from the nose settles down for good, and we are back at an exotic-wood sawmill. Finish: unexpectedly buttery to start with, it then turns jammy. This finish has berry-filled turnovers and blueberry jam, perhaps red- and blackcurrant too, and a bitterer side -- not quite rubber, though not too far off; some kind of blackcurrant paste would be my guess. Chewy blackcurrant sweets, distant liquorice allsorts, chewy and slightly bitter. The more one sips this, the sweeter it seems to become, even if it never shakes off its gentle bitterness. Another excellent First Cask. 8/10

Glen Grant 24yo 1976/2000 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, Sherry Cask, C#2886): nose: this one is far less woody from the get-go, or at least, differently so. Baked banana or plantain, sweet shortcrust, shortbread, and tame custard seem more welcoming. It is not too long before the whole is given a lick of teak oil, yet that happens in the background. Pretty soon, the wood is completely overrun by a wave of baked or stewed strawberry: strawberry turnovers, strawberry-filled warm waffles, simmering strawberry jam. Oh! Hhere is a notch of blackberry too. The main character is is strawberry, however. In the long run, caramelised manuka honey shows up. Or is it maple syrup? In any case, it seems poured on a heap of blueberries, fragrant and distinctive. In the distance, a fleeting glimpse of hard-boiled egg, only picked up by the subconsciousness. It is definitely there, though. Well, either that, or my nose is too close to my mouth. Lastly, a no-less-fleeting floral note appears stealthily, halfway between lilac and honeysuckle. Mouth: toasted and sweet, with a soft metallic edge that reminds tOMoH of grain whisky (Invergordon, especially, not sure why). Out of the blue and before I can start thinking about those toasted notes, easily-recognisable purple passion fruit comes out all guns blazing, acidic and a little bitter. Most puzzling, most appreciated. As for the initial toasted note, it was indeed toasted bread, toasted coriander seeds, liquorice root or aniseed, but as soon as the passion fruit storms the scene, all that vanishes virtually completely. Finish: for a moment, it feels more conventional, with the toasted notes making a grand entrance (liquorice boot laces and toasted aniseed). Soon, that silly passion fruit is back with a huge grin, and takes the tongue out to tango. Hot jam is here, blackberry more than strawberry, toasted exotic wood (ebony, in this one) and dark nuts (kluwak). But all that is in the shadow of passion fruit. Assertive, a little mischievous, if neither frankly boisterous, nor vulgar. Amazing. 9/10

Well, both drams fared better than the first (cask) time (here and here).

20/08/2021 Bunnahabhain

Bunnahabhain 19yo d.1980 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#5643): nose: fresh, this is part sea-front walk, part garden stroll. It has a whiff of sea spray and sea breeze, complementing mint and ivy. Beyond that is something sweeter; from a fleeting Demerara-sugar impression, it is a short distance to gingerbread, hard-shelled sweets (Mentos or dragées) and crystallised lime segments with a serving of delicate seaweed for good measure. Mind you, this also has minty toothpaste, as the aforementioned Mentos suggest (is the filling not made of toothpaste anyway?) In the long run, the nose turns pretty citrus-y, with lime wedges, pomelo and satsuma taken with a margarita. That enduring battle between citrus, mint and sea spray makes for a, well, fresh nose indeed. The citrus seems to win, in the end, in case you are wondering. Just. The nose becomes silent over the space of thirty minutes, unfortunately. Too little left in the glass, perhaps? Too cold in the room, with the open window? In any case, do not sleep! Mouth: aaaaaand it is citrus-y custard, perhaps with a more tropical undertone. Beside the Buddha's hand and the sweet white grapefruit may be a tiny portion of passion fruit. This is gently acidic on the palate, and a tad bitter, in a grapefruit way. It is also juicy and does not lack sweetness. In fact, the next sips underline that sweetness, and the lime juice seems to morphs into sweetened mandarin nectar, which is far sweeter. Of the leafy side that was present on the nose, this only retains crumbly mint sweets, the sort that melts on the tongue. It is well pleasant. As always, in this series, the 46% ABV are an ideal strength. Finish: assertive, it is still citrus-y, adding custard to the equation. Yes, grapefruit-y custard, mint lozenges, a dash of passion-fruit liqueur, drowned in a river of seltzer, and a spray of refreshing sea breeze (including a minute saltiness). It is not a long finish, and one could complain that the reduction is felt, yet it does leave the mouth refreshed and the gums energised, as a morning mouthwash would. Very good Bunna. A strong 8/10

19/08/2021 Electric Coo Blend

Blended Scotch Whisky 27yo 1993/2020 (41.1%, CWC The Electric Coo Series, Refill ex-Sherry Butt): nose: it starts off with raspberry vinegar and salad vinaigrette, and has turned into exotic wood by the time it hits the sinuses -- mahogany, teak, redwood. Garden furniture creeps up, as do a heap of autumn leaves, warm red ink and cherry stones. There is a subtle whiff of hard-boiled egg, strangely enough, though it does not spoil the fun. Further nosing reveals dark cherries and blackberries, neither of which is very loud. Finally, a faint floral scent enters, forsythia, montbretia or peonies. Veeeeery faint. Mouth: rather wine-y on the palate, with a generous dose of tannins, macerated grape skins, pressed blackberries and even the tamed bitterness of slightly-unripe blackcurrants. This has something remotely nutty too, too thin to be a liqueur, too tame to be an eau-de-vie. Over time, the texture turns oilier, and that brings us back to that idea of nuts -- walnut kernels bathing in plum juice. Repeated sipping increases the woody character, and it emphasises a certain dryness. That would be old wood, then. Finish: perfect strength for me, and it is juicy to boot. The finish is the strong point, in my opinion; it has the acidity of the berries mentioned above, enough bitterness and nuttiness to remind one that it has spent twenty-seven years in wood, yet none of the greenness of unripe fruit. There is a drop of raspberry vinegar again, lost amidst the berries and the nuts. Come to think of it, this might well have chewy marzipan, pickled with said raspberry vinegar. It works. Good blend! 7/10

18/08/2021 Disparate duo

Glenrothes 39yo 1970/2009 (47.9%, Duncan Taylor Rare Auld specially selected by The Nectar, C#10567, b127, b#83): nose: an aroma of peach skin in tatters, ground almonds or macadamia nuts, and crushed conference pear. A minute of breathing dials the fruit up a notch, and the nose bursts with waxy plums, apricots, nectarines and mirabelle plums, all kept in a copper case. In fact, this has a distinctly metallic touch to boot -- new copper coins coming straight out of the mint. A bit further on, a soft, woody lick forms, damp, freshly-cut birch logs, dead leaves on a forest floor in early autumn. The yellow fruits are soon back, this time sweeter; it is relatively safe to say it is apricot jam, now. A leather pouch of Virginia tobacco rests next to that. Even further on, old pans and pots in a cupboard, from a time before stainless steel and Teflon invaded the household. In other words: copper and cast iron. Mouth: ooft! It is hugely metallic on the tongue, with those old pots and pans, as well as copper coins, this time older ones, showing some wear and traces of verdigris. The liquid seems quite feisty, for a good forty-second, with mild chilli powder and coriander powder. That eventually calms down, and some fruits make a comeback -- tinned peaches bled on by the tin, apricot jam that would have taken on some taste from the tin lid. There is something a little toasty via retro-nasal olfaction too -- toasted stave perhaps? Yes, and that stave has dried lichen on it. It is impressive how full this feels at this relatively-modest strength. Honey-glazed pastry, toasted to caramel, almost. The texture is in line: jam or marmalade, and manuka honey make this acidic and sweet at the same time. Finish: it slays, at this stage. A gulp of chicory infusion, a spoonful of light brown sugar and warm honey on toasted bread all fight for attention (a tame fight, though). Once the brawl disperses, the winner is a golden apricot jam spread onto toasted crumpets. Little (if any) of the metal makes it this far, the wood from the nose is reduced to a vaguely bread-y haze, and the gentle spices from the palate are but a lovely cinnamon butter. The finish is long and persistent; it coats the palate like a honey-glazed doughnut. Phenomenal. Who knew Glenrothes could be this good? 9/10

Note the funny hat. The 
original cork disintegrated
(of course), and the replacement
also crumbled

St. Magdalene (Linlithgow) 12yo 1982/1995 (63%, Cadenhead Authentic Collection, Oak Cask): nose: herbal and aromatic to start with, it soon makes a bonfire of the hairs in the nostrils. The contrast in ABV with the previous dram could hardly be starker. Besides the heat, however, it is like entering an old herbalist's shoppe: hawthorn, thyme, juniper, rosemary, dried marigold. Suddenly, it turns immensely woody, with antique chairs in dire need of a lick of oil, dusty bookshelves from the XIIIth century, and stacks of old papers. Further still, parchment and old leather show up, so old they are rigid and, consequently, fragile. There are some yellow fruits, hidden behind all that, yet they are difficult to identify. Actually, more than fruit, what emerge are Military biscuit, Choco As biscuit (without the chocolate), crumbly and dry, leaning towards dusty. Water makes this peppery (green pepper), and reveals more citrus -- pomelo and a few chunks of Chinese gooseberry. Far in the back of the sinuses, green passion fruits appear (shy), as does carambola (just as shy). Later on, the reduced nose turns a little leafier. Mouth: the initial mouthfeel is gently lemon-y (read: thin and acidic), though that is soon eclipsed by an obvious heat. Considering the fierce ABV, it is more tolerable than expected, but it is warm alright. Hot, plain biscuits, lemon (not just the juice, but the zest too), and a herbal quality again (thyme, lemon thyme, juniper). This is mouth-watering, with sage-sprinkled lemon marmalade and citrus-y biscuit crumbs. There is even lime tonic, in this. Further sipping brings about a certain sweetness, maybe vanilla sugar? Or is it custard powder? Water unfortunately throws this off balance: it becomes fruitier, but feels watery; so watery, in fact, that the fruit, which might well be carambola, is barely recognisable. It does make it sweeter, however, and leafier, to a degree, with clementine foliage and lemon mint. Finish: surprisingly gentle (he says, his lips still throbbing from the alcohol shock), this has citrus written all over it (yellow kiwi, soft grapefruit and calamansi -- it is not all acidic lemon, this time), on an underlying herbal character (norii joins thyme and hawthorn). This finish, a wee while after swallowing, develops a certain bitterness too. In no particular order, we have lime peels, lichens, verdigris and oxidised metal, veering towards pencil-sharpener blades, without ever quite reaching them. The second sip has a vaguely-bitter custard, which is as unexpected as it is good. Water tones down the metal and all things bitter, adds a drop of pear juice, and makes for an easier sipper. In other words: it makes this dram far less interesting, unfortunately. If adding water at all, it is a good idea to let it sit for at least fifteen minutes to allow the whisky to regain some semblance of balance. 9/10