Whisky Online Blog

Seeing as this series is in danger of becoming the ‘Rocky’ of whisky blog posts I think this will almost certainly be the last one. After Port Ellen, Ardbeg and Lagavulin it seems logical that we will cover Laphroaig, the final Islay southerner. So unless someone wants to send me a stash of old 73/74 Longrow or early 70s Brora samples then I don’t think we’ll see parts five or six anytime soon.

Anyway, without further prattle and ado…

Laphroaig 20yo. Douglas Laing. OMC. Sherry Hogshead. 50%. 70cl.

Had this sample kicking about for some time, sadly no image to go with it I’m afraid. I adore sherried Laphroaigs though so I’m keen to try this one.

Colour: Dark amber

Nose: A strange kind of grizzly fruitiness at first. Very Laphroaig, loads of tincture, iodine, tcp and other medicinal qualities but with a lovely metallic edge like wet iron and steel wool. Smoky bacon, dried herbs and salt, bacon crisps? Flat cola, peat, cola cubes, hot tar, rope, root beer, wet earth and hints of dark rum. Quite a superlative nose really, great distillery character but with that classic, surprisingly clean, sherry slant. Unctuous, leafy, salty and thick with big notes of liquorice, key lime pie, lemon curd, wax, hessian, flints and other assorted mineral notes. Gets quite briny with a thick and turfy peat quality with some nice dried dark fruits. Great stuff, very enjoyable.

Palate: Massive, syrupy peat on delivery with big drying sherry right behind it, reminds me a little of some old peated Glen Gariochs (high praise indeed) with more earth, dried mushrooms, tcp, mouthwash, liquorice, charcoal, barbecue sauce and some lovely green fruits. Very medicinal, lots of medical sub complexities with big herbal liqueur qualities as well. Baked apples, smoked mussels, creosote, cola syrup, tobacco and seaweed soup. A perfect balance of sweet and dry.

Finish: Lemon curd again, fresh oysters, brine, menthol toothpaste, hessian, creosote, tar, tcp, wax and fading green fruits.

Comments: I really love Laphroaig in sherry and this one doesn’t disappoint. Displays the very best attributes of the modern style and is probably helped a lot by a top notch sherry cask. Clean, vibrant, resinous and powerful. Douglas Laing seem to have a had quite a few of these fresh sherry cask Laphroaigs from the late 1980s recently. Lets hope there are still plenty to come because they’ve all been great so far.

Score: 91/100

Laphroaig 1981-2008. 27yo. OB. Five oloroso sherry casks. 736 bottles. 56.6%. 70cl. 

Huge thanks to Nick for this one.

Colour: Dark Rosewood

Nose: A different level of sherry entirely. Super thick and intense with a much more subdued level of peat. At first its all on fresh tar and concentrated aromas of charcoal, dates, prunes, figs and other dark fruits. Lots of sultanas stewed in cognac, furniture polish, salted brazil nuts, chocolate, molasses, natural caramel and hot fudge. A very rare instance where the sherry has taken over from the peat, quite a potent cask selection indeed. Definitely need time. With a bit of patience it starts to become much more tropical and accessible. There is also a much bigger coastal presence, lots of wet rocks, seaweed, beach bonfires, iodine and kipper notes. Some resin, wax and putty as well with a slowly encroaching aged peat quality in the background. Very earthy, dry, thick and syrupy. Notes of cola and gomme syrups and something like redcurrant jam. With water: a tropical fruit and nut cocktail now. Lots of soft tropical notes on top of crushed walnuts, pecans and salted almonds. Then lighter vegetal qualities, more tar, geraniums and salted dark chocolate.

Palate: Neat it is a powerhouse of a Laphroaig, orange bitters, peated marmalade (what) burnt wood, barbecue sauce, masses of molasses (ha), herb liqueur, rancio, wild mushrooms, cola cubes again, bacon, brown sauce, tar, lashings of medicine and a warehouse full of dark, fruit laden sherry. Drying and moist like swallowing a whole Guinness cake. Loads of mixed nuts, phenols, quince jelly, muesli, juniper, gentian root, root beer, coal, creosote, salt cured meats and bovril. A monster of a Laphroaig, but more so because of the sherry than the peat it has to be said. With water: ok it’s softer but it is still very drying, thick and syrupy. Lots of fat eucalyptus notes, seaweed, tar, smoked fish and black pepper. A smattering of mineral notes and then more leafy fruitiness, orange and lemon notes with bay leaves, thyme and ginseng tea.

Finish: Incredibly long, like waiting for the credits to roll on Return Of The King. You practically have to scrape your mouth clean of peated sherry afterwards. Buy a new toothbrush!

Comments: In any other whisky this level of sherry would be too much for me and I’d be tempted to mark it down but the sheer power and force of personality that Laphroaig possess seems to have held everything together brilliantly, although I doubt these casks would have made it to 30. Fantastic, a whisky for those that like them black and potent (unless you’re a Loch Dhu fan in which case you’re on the wrong blog). Anyway, a real power house dram, intense, extreme and brilliant.

Score: 94/100

Laphroaig 1964-1981. Berry Brothers & Rudd. Sherry cask. 43%. 75cl.

Sadly no picture for this one. A rightly legendary bottling from Berry Bros.

Colour: Amber/Brown

Nose: A stunning combination of resinous peat, crystalised and tropical fruits and perfect sherry. This is followed by super dense coastal notes, raisins, wet earth, coal dust, aged cognac, smoked almonds, marzipan, hints of rancio and a little aged antiseptic. Just brilliant, one of those perfect noses. Ancient dry phenols, peat, wax and little dustiness. Then fresh oysters, preserved lemons, smoked mussels, camphor, and some phenomenal vegetal and herbal notes. I could go on but I might never taste it, a staggering nose.

Palate: Enormous, fat, drying, dusty, organic peat. Completely covers and engages every part of the palate, then an avalanche of tropical fruits, an incredible delivery. Develops along more complex lines with dark brown sugar, old vanilla, honey, camphor, pine resin, huge herbaceous notes and a big growing saltiness. Notes of salted beef, sarsaparilla, gentian eau de vie, root beer, dark chocolate, seaweed and yet more drying peats. Lets stop this wonderful, wonderful madness.

Finish: Long and filled with waxy peat, herbs, vegetal, earthy and coastal qualities. Then finally a mineral and beautiful fade.

Comments: One of those bottlings that makes you remember why you’re into whisky in the first place. Massive at 43% in a way that only Laphroaig seems to be able to pull off. A masterpiece of complexity, poise, intensity, length and balance. Brilliant!

Score: 95/100

A legendary old Samaroli bottling of Laphroaig

Laphroaig 1970-1986. Duthie for Samaroli. 720 bottles. 54%. 75cl. 

No much needs saying about this legendary bottling. Eternal gratitude to Patrick for these last two drams.

Colour: Straw Gold

Nose: A mesmerising combination of seashore, coastal and fresh peat aromas. Hugely complex with lashings of citrus, oysters, salt, iodine, mint, kippers, white pepper and old rope. Develops onto tar, seaweed, coal dust and, after time, luscious notes of fresh lime juice. Then eucalyptus oils, more pristine saltiness and massive notes of brine that lend the whole nose a stunning freshness. Just incredible really. Perfectly dry and a complex with exceptionally elegant notes of minerals, smoked tea, old style peat and, eventually, fruit. The fruit is perfectly tropical but also surprisingly resinous and crystallised which lends the whole profile an extra layer of depth and complexity. With water: some super salty blue cheese, lemon juice, papaya, coal dust again, more minerals, buttered toast, herbs, shellfish and peat oils.

Palate: A tropical whirlwind. Just epic amounts of passion fruits, guavas, greengages, melons and lemons. Absolutely brilliant delivery. Further notes of fragrant smoke, black pepper, smoked cereals, tar, green peat and motor oil. Still massively coastal and balanced. With water: Not too much change, the coastal aspects got a bit bigger till they’re almost equal to the fruits. Layers and layers of complexity that I can’t even begin to get into now, salty, tropical, oily, peaty and medicinal in myriad ways, it just keeps on going…

Finish: No comment!

Comment: An utter masterpiece. This is the sort of bottle that really sets the bar for all others to be measured against. At least I think it does.

Score: 96/100

Well that ties up this little series of masterpieces quite nicely. It’s been a pretty devastating path of uninterrupted peaty beauty, one that leads only to the point where you could instantly start again or go for something new and equally mind blowing. We’re all searching for the new, the unknown bottling, all seeking the next hidden masterpiece. Sadly, as with all whiskies of this calibre, that is not always an option and one day, probably in the not too distant future, it will stop being an option for every body. These bottles wont last forever, the liquid will inevitably die, although, long before that happens, they will already be out of grasp to any buyer. When there are only three and then two bottles left of the Laphroiag 1970 or the Port Ellen 1969, what will happen then? I think distillers should be made to taste whiskies like these ones, if the people that make whisky don’t know how good it can be, if they don’t fully comprehend the organoleptic heights to which these spirits can soar then how can we ever hope to make whisky this good again. There are many who say it can’t be done but that is complete baldershit if you ask me. It is purely a recipe, a process governed by the whim of chemistry and practice. Great whiskies like these could be made again. It just needs someone with the will power to do it, the understanding of what made the greatest whiskies so great and the balls, madness and sheer bloody mindedness to do it.

Oh and money. Lots of money. Perhaps therein lies the problem. Perhaps someone should donate a sample of Ardbeg Kingsbury 67 to Bill Gates and see if he fancies taking a punt on funding a distillery…? Just an idea.

Good whisky is thin on the ground in South America, it is also uncommon in Latin American, the USA and Canada, at least it was on my travel budget. So, barring the odd bottle of 1930s rotation White Horse, there was little to be found outside what I got in my care packages from home. I don’t like the phrase care package, it makes me sound like an interminable middle class little oik who can’t bear to be away from The Guardian, Mummy and his modest cellar of vintage malt whisky. Whilst I am an interminable middle class wee oik, I am not any of the latter things (although I did miss my Mum on several occasions). So while I did not, and will not, complain about the absence of tasty whisky, there were occasions when I missed having a good dram with my friends, and, more to the point, missed my friends full stop. Thankfully they dutifully saw fit during these times of lonesomeness to inform me of their latest drinking adventures. “Tonight Angus… I’ll be drinking 1955 Highland Park!” and so and so on. It was bad enough catching up with whiskyfun each week without having my appetite tormented with tales and images of overseas merriment and drammery. This is one of the problems with facebook, it’s useful for communication but it is also a tool of international showingoffness. Still, it was all a bit of lighthearted fun, I am not a vengeful or bitter man by any means. So, on a completely unrelated note, I present today’s tasting… MWAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!!!

Ardbeg 1972-2009. 36yo Douglas Laing Old & Rare. Ref: OAR0072. 44.7%. 70cl. 

Colour: Light Gold

Nose: Leafy peat, seaweed and bonfires at first nosing, classic 72 Ardbeg but lighter, probably due to those extra years of age. Little notes of blueberries amongst all those familiar peat oils, iodine, sea spray, tar and fish nets. Herb liqueurs, sarsaparilla root, coal, gentian and peated mead if such a thing exists. The peat is sweet and concentrated beautifully with those slightly burnt seashore notes, it’s not the greatest 72 Ardbeg but by most other whisky standards it’s still off the chart. Gets a little mentholated with notes of dried mint and eucalyptus oil, then rope, dunnage and kiln rooms.

Palate: Wow, fantastic attack for the strength, lashings of peat oils, seawater, oysters, lemon juice, root beer, thick smoky notes, burned wood, seaweed and a drying ember like quality to it. I haven’t had an old Ardbeg for a while, you really forget how fucking brilliant these old whiskies are. What a delivery of flavour. Now earthy and leafy with notes of moss, soil, more cereals and farmy aspects with a slight leathery quality. Some notes of cured ham and then more eucalyptus and herbal liqueurs. Just fantastic, no need to go on…

Finish: Long, elegant and oily, not as intense as the rest but beautifully soft with lightly toasted peat notes and medicinal flavours lingering on for a long time…

Comments: I’ve had a few quite old Ardbegs now, in my experience they all seem to fade away past 32 years but this is beautiful. A real winner. Still brilliantly composed and classic in every way.

Score: 93/100

Ardbeg 1975-2004 29yo. Douglas Laing O&R. Sherry Hogshead. 255 Bottles. 47.3%. 70cl. 

Colour: Mahogany

Nose: It’s a different kind of Ardbeg from the 72, the sherry and peat combination leaps out at you like an angry bundle of kippers. The difference in style from the 72 refill hoggie is very striking when you set them together. Little wonder people are still enthralled by this era of Ardbeg, it was brilliant in almost any cask type. This one is just that, brilliant at first nosing, kippers, wax, fat peat oils, muscovado sugar, smoked dates (?), hessian, coal, huge notes of tar and rope, more of those eccentric root beer medicinal notes that seem to be a hallmark of heavy sherried Ardbegs from the 70s. Underneath that there is some green fruit and spices with some clean salty notes and smoky bacon. Another stunner of a nose.

Palate: A mouthful of hot antiseptic and tar, some very lovely notes of liquid smoke, biscuits, savoury breads, smoked and peppered mackerel, dried herbs and herbal liqueurs. Then glazed cherries, icing sugar, gingerbread, old leather and mixed spice. The palate is very concise with the nose, lots of complexity and the flavours are all wonderfully integrated together. More liquorice and seaweed with notes of lemon wax and creosote starting to come through along with flavours of herbal toothpaste and tincture. Again there is no point in continuing, this is just brilliant old Ardbeg…

Finish: Long, sharply peaty and beautifully medicinal with fading seashore notes.

Comments: Not really necessary.

Score: 93/100

Ardbeg 1991-2011. 19yo. Malts Of Scotland for Hotel Beero. Sherry Hogshead. Cask 11003. 240 Bottles. 48.4%. 70cl. 

This is a new and destined to be very rare bottling that has just been done for Geert Beero and his lovely hotel in Oostende, Belgium. If you go and stay at the hotel you can buy a bottle (or 2) but I suspect they won’t be there for long.

Colour: Dark Rosewood.

Nose: It’s very different from the 70s casks but this is still and old school style. Very earthy and organic with a much more lush and verdant fruit character running through it. Still those notes of root beer are there and a beautifully subtle background medicinal character. Then after some time we get more of these lovely dried herbaceous notes with wet leaves, green fruits, earl grey tea and even some wonderful aged characteristics of old cognac and rancio. Touches of aged balsamico as well, this treads a wonderfully fine line between 70s style Ardbeg and early 90s style, in fact it’s very hard to know where to draw the lines between the two in this whisky, they are so well blurred and integrated. After this more classical notes of tar, kippers, rope, creosote and seaweed, gets more and more old school the longer you nose it for.

Palate: Huge, fat, oily sherry and peat qualities, just wonderful delivery all on prune juice, dates, walnut oil, embrocations, toothpaste, tcp, iodine, tar, earth, grass and underlying cereals. Notes of fresh wash, cocoa powder, camphor, eucalyptus, gummi bears and many medicinal complexities. What a great dram. More herbal liqueur notes, rose water, lychee, coal, soot, mouthwash and graphite oil. Let stop this madness.

Finish: Long and very earthy with the sweetness returning towards the end. All kinds of fanfare flavours to be found in this.

Comments: To be honest when I tried this the first time around I rushed it and wasn’t as impressed as I should have been. This is a total stunner in my opinion. Proof, if any were really needed, that Ardbeg didn’t have just one great era of production. Not to mention the quality of the cask as well, the sherry is perfect in this, not an off note to be found, a rare thing indeed these days, and what a find. Congratulations to Geert for bottling such a brilliant whisky.

Score: 93/100

Ardbeg 1975-1995. 19yo. Cadenhead’s. Sherry Hogshead. US market bottling. 49.7%. 75cl. 

Colour: Tazmanian Honey

Nose: A different and dirtier beast than the others, this one is hugely tarry but also more ‘unclean’ as it were, with notes of struck matches and rubber but set against the background of huge oily phenols and Ardbegy peat they feel quite well controlled and integrated. Not sour or over powering like they often do in modern whiskies. It develops with big coastal notes of fresh sea shore, sandalwood, lemon rind, fresh oysters, wet pebbles and minerals. Lots of wet earth notes, green, mushy peat characters and wet grains. A very wet dram this by the smell of things. Dunnage and damp sackcloth with notes of iron filings and cut grass over deeper notes of rust, black pudding and slightly rotten orange peel. This is a strange Ardbeg, all these dirty complexities make it seem much more like a Port Ellen, in fact given this bling I would definitely gone for Port Ellen over Ardbeg.

Palate: First up it’s notes of fresh coffee, milk chocolate, mixed nuts, halls throat sweets and brine. It’s a big whisky but it is almost like a non-dram with its lack of distillery identity, like a beautiful person in disguise for an unknowable reason. More bucket loads of tar, germoline, oil boilers, hessian, damp earth, horse stables, sweat, herbs and rope. Quite a mixed bag of stuff this one, hard to know what to make of it. Very enjoyable but also very strange.

Finish: Long, earthy, dirty, wild, blustery and oily. Lots of coastal notes, rubber, lemon drops, some honey and lingering grisly phenols.

Comments: This is clearly an Ardbeg that was raised a Port Ellen, some sort of sex change style scenario that could win it it’s own documentary mini series on channel four. I really like it but I think on a technical note I cant go too high due to the undeniable dirty notes. Still, a schizophrenic dram with a multitude of personalities that tastes fantastic even if it drags you all over the place. They don’t make whisky like this anymore, a whole galaxy away from boring.

Score: 91/100

Ardbeg 1991 18yo. Douglas Laing OMC. cask 5449. Bourbon Hogshead. 316 bottles. 50%. 70cl.

Colour: White wine

Nose: Classic early 90s profile. Soft phenols, grass, pine sap, creosote, tar, kreel nets, crab meat, fresh lemon juice on oysters, chopped parsley, sage and mercurochrome. Lots of further medicinal complexities start to develop with notes of tincture, bandages, gauze, mouthwash and tcp. Some very clean and invigorating coastal notes of minerals, wet pebbles, seashore, seaweed, sea salt and shellfish. Very classical and very taught, clean composition, super fresh as well, quite reminiscent of the official 1990 bottlings.

Palate: At first some very curious notes of milk chocolate but these quickly give way to seaweed, smoked cereals, kippers, lemon oil, beeswax, turpentine, peated porridge (please someone invent that soon!), mouthwash and herbal liqueurs. Again this is very consistent with the official 1990 bottlings, lots of pine air freshener, touches of heather and floral soaps, sea salty crystals and a little red wine vinegar. In fact you could pour this over your fish and chips no problem, although I probably wouldn’t.

Finish: Long and resinous with oily peat, green phenols, porridge, grass, seaweed, minerals and more citrus oils.

Comments: Great 90s Ardbeg, completely typical of the style.

Score: 90/100

Now lets do the obligatory mental vatting…

All five together…

Nose: It’s obviously the 70s that speak loudest here, it’s a veritable festival of extrmes. Peat, tar, phenols, salt, medicine, cereals… it’s just brilliant

Palate: All the best bits from the bourbon and sherry versions have managed to balance out pretty well. As is usually the case with these things when you mix brilliant whiskies together you get… brilliant whiskies. Here they’ve managed to just magnify the intensity of the distillery character perfectly.

Finish: Gently bulldozes your palate till midnight…

What brilliant tasting. Dedicated to all my whisky friends, without whom I’d never have smiled so much during the longer, darker and duller moments of my travels.

Aberdeen. Although it may posses charms unknown to me, secret beauties and inestimable qualities, they are well hidden on this visit by a veil of drizzle, the kind which seems indigenous to Scottish skies and mornings. I have arrived at 8.40 am by train from Glasgow, I discuss the ever looming spectre of potential Scottish independence with my taxi driver as he takes me to the airport. He tells me about the oil upon which this city has spread its financial wings over the recent decades. We wind our way through the streets and early traffic, the cars run wet and steamy, like mechanical blood along the cold fissures of road that lie between the granite of the city. At the airport I run to the terminal against the sting of the rain, a smudge of hurried green against a tapestry of grey. Inside I meet Wayne, Debbie and our host for the next twenty four hours, the terminally enthusiastic and cheerful Ian Murray. We muddle with luggage, clench against the rain once again, find our ride and then we’re off, getting the hell out of Aberdeen and all its slate washed splendour.

The drive to Glenfiddich feels like a long one, we are all tired from early starts. The grey of Aberdeen seems fused to the nibostratus umbrella that covers Scotland but as we move deeper into Speyside the colours change. Trees, already stripped bare by over-eagre autumnal winds, stand like charcoal bones against the dull light of the sky. Their larger counterparts, still bristling with ageing foliage, lend further muted shades to dark green fields and the sandy stubble of spent barley crops. Hay bales still litter the land, sponging up the last weeks worth of rain. The mercurial, oily scum of the road spatters up from tires onto our windscreen but gives way soon enough to cleaner air and the pristine glisten of old, wet B roads. Occasional pockets of sheep keenly ignore us as we go past, they are too busy ignoring the weather, simply existing in the way that sheep tend to do. The colours of the land are rendered dark by the impenetrable cap of the sky and the air is alive with cold electricity, in other words, perfect whisky making weather.

We arrive to a Glenfiddich that has dressed for the occasion, kitting itself out in matching stonework and slate regalia, an outfit that offsets its surroundings and rainwater soak perfectly. Our first port of call is lunch. If you are visiting this part of Scotland, even if distillery bagging is not your thing, I cannot recommend the food on offer at Glenfiddich highly enough. For my money it is one of the most delicious menus of any distillery in Scotland (and this coming from someone who spent two summers working at Ardbeg so high praise indeed). We ate a fantastic two course lunch, I had the Haggis, Neeps & Tatties, which had been fused into some kind of Scottish culinary meteorite and drizzled with Glenfiddich whisky sauce. It was my first taste of haggis in over a year and, as is the tradition with this particular meal, I found it difficult to move afterwards, as if I had eaten a cluster of blowling balls or a curling stone. As we ate Ian talked passionately about the Grant family and their distilleries, his enthusiasm for his job and his whisky is a refreshing one when you consider the number of people you meet in the whisky industry with such a dry, feigned enthusiasm for their product, one that can rarely be bothered to mask its true disinterest.

Warehouse 1. As seen from the shelter of the visitor centre.

The tour at Glenfiddich begins, like at many larger distilleries, with a video. The one they have is very nicely shot with a glaringly professional sheen. It is keen to impress upon us the sheer force of willpower it took to get the distillery built. A process that was apparently done by hand over the course of a year by William Grant and his (willing?) children. The video also seemed to suggest that they were building the distillery on a site that resembled the battle of the somme, in weather conditions that had evidently been perfectly recreated for our visit in order to give a feeling of genuine authenticity. The presentation went on to emphasise how the distillate produced today has never changed and is made to the exact recipe that William Grant developed back in the late 1800s, this is something I particularly disagree with but I’ll leave it to you to make up your own minds about that one. I have never really been able to take these videos seriously and while certain elements did come across as a little ridiculous, I must admit it was very beautifully shot and edited and a long way above the usual woeful standards of these tour starting points.

Just two of the many epic washbacks at Glenfiddich.

The tour begins in earnest and our guide, along with Ian, is the remarkable and enthusiastic Bert Macor. If you’ve never been round Glenfiddich before, the process itself, apart from a few reassuringly old style flourishes (which I’ll get to in a moment), is relatively straightforward and similar to the majority of modern Scottish malt distilleries. What is so essential about the Glenfiddich experience however is the sheer scale of it all, you cannot fully appreciate what an enormous operation it is to make malt whisky to feed the vast world markets unless you actually come and see it. The cavernous warren of vast wooden washbacks, all frothing away at various points of the relatively long fermentation cycle, the twin Porteus mills, the giddying mash tun and the inevitable 28 stills. This is a distillery designed for overproduction, for the satisfaction of mass demand and the simultaneous generation of a backlog of spirit that can age comfortably for decades, to be drawn on and dipped into on whim or special occasion. I speak to Bert in the gaps as we stroll from one part of the tour to the next. He is from the Netherlands, Rotterdam originally, but has lived and worked here at Glenfiddich for over thirty years, despite this his accent is remarkably well intact and his pronunciation accurate but mesmerisingly imbued with Dutch lilts and ticks. His knowledge is deep and his explanations comprehensive but riddled with clear enthusiasm, like Ian he possesses an untethered admiration for his company and the whisky it produces. They make for an infectious pair of guides.

The violence of early fermentation

Debbie and Ian survey just some of the 28 small Glenfiddich stills.

The direct fired distillation in progress.

One of the things that I find fascinating about Glenfiddich is its continued use of direct fired distillation. Every still uses a gas fired flame and an internal rummager, a moving chain that prevents pot ale and sediments sticking to the base during the boil, not a steam coil in sight. And yet you wouldn’t notice a particular meaty, oily or fat quality in the Glenfiddich make. It is a lighter style of spirit, distinctive but elegant and soft. Doubtless the effects of direct firing are balanced by the lengthy(ish) fermentation, shell condensers and phenol free malt. Yet, it would still be interesting to try an example of the make distilled under the power of steam rather than flame, I’m very curious about the role it plays in the Glenfiddich personality. It also shows that the idea behind it being far too difficult to direct fire rather than use steam is gibberish, if the biggest malt factory in town can manage it with 28 stills then surely the others could have a crack too? Just an idea. I think it is a commendably old school aspect of the production and one that demonstrates there is a real dedication to preserving a particular character and style here at Glenfiddich. Something that cannot be said for many other Speysiders that seem to increasingly be basing their house styles somewhere between Glen Safe and Glen Boring.

A view of the distillery from outside one of the warehouses.

We take a spin round the warehouses. Again the sheer size of the operation is quite overwhelming, not just the vast number of casks but the principal of overproduction is so perfectly summed up in the seemingly random litter of examples that date from the seventies, sixties and fifties. Ancient hoggies, barrels, butts and puncheons lie around after decades of maturation, left to sit and fester without design or purpose other than to be there when the time comes, when an old whisky is called for they simply need to stroll in and pick one. It is a beautiful sight because it is simply so rare to see warehouses full of old stock anymore, most distillers having jumped too quickly and enthusiastically on the malt bandwagon only to find themselves devoid of aged whisky and having to rely on marketing led brainwashing to sell younger, inferior spirit for the same money. It seems the Grants always had the sense of foresight to make enough whisky to leave some for a rainy day. Lucky for us the weather is foul.

Bert explains the outlay of the distillery buildings to Wayne.

After the warehouse we retire to the tasting lounge for a welcome selection of drams. We taste the 14yo Rich Oak, the old and the new 30yos and a spectacularly elegant and herbaceous 1974 cask sample. The ones I selected to write notes for are an intriguing pair…

Glenfiddich ‘Age Of Discovery’. Madeira Finish. 19yo OB. 40%. 70cl. 

Colour: Amber

Nose: This is very nice and very open at first nosing, not as drying as I expected from the Madeira, more lush and almost exotic with some very lovely fruit character. Again that Glenfiddich character of apples, pine needles and light spices is dancing around in the background, it’s strange how such a delicate personality can shine through at such a variety of ages, strengths and cask types. Goes on with some nice green notes and hints of camphor, coal, walnuts and touches of balsamico (presumably form the madeira). A very fresh and well integrated finish, on the nose at least…

Palate: Again quite a lush, spicy and nutty delivery but it lacks a little oomph I think. Raspberries, fruit oils, tobacco, nuts, milk chocolate, herbs, pine resin and something ever so slightly tarry. Keeps on going with cough sweets and throat losenges with these little aromatic qualities, further delicate notes of eucalyptus and fresh herbs like thyme and tarragon. Again this is very nice and exceptionally well composed as far as the finishing aspect goes.

Finish: Medium to Long, leaves some beautiful notes of wild mushrooms, wet leaves, truffle oil, garden fruits, green tea and muesli.

Comments: The problem here is the strength, that slight weakness on the palate will cost it a few marks in my book, if this was at 46% I think it would be a real winner. The finishing has been done exceptionally well in my book, interesting considering that they rarely finish the spirit for more than a few months, a length of time that is usually far too short to effectively alter a spirit beyond colour and minor obvious changes to the flavour. Maybe they use exceptional casks but I think the real reason is that Glenfiddich (like Glenmorangie in many ways) is light enough to bend easily to the lilt of new wood and wine influences without loosing its own character along the way, instead of war in the cask you get compliance. Anyway, amateur theorising aside, this is a fine dram.

Score: 85/100

Glenfiddich 30yo. OB. 2010 rotation. 43%. 70cl.

Colour: Bright Gold

Nose: A whole orchard of apples. Seriously, red apples, baked apples, golden delicious, green apples, the whole caboodle. Lots of other super fragrant aromas too, notes of linseed oil, pastry, dried herbs, camphor, leather, beeswax, pine resin and wild flowers, very fresh, elegant and appealing. There are some typically Glenfiddichesque spices as well such as notes of cinnamon and ginger biscuits then forest flora and berry fruits.

Palate: Quite a bold delivery all on wax, crystallised fruits, paint, eucalyptus, mulling spices and more very typical apple qualities. Further notes of mead, touches of heather smoke, coal dust, pine cones, Christmas cake, dates, raisins, mid-aged Armagnac and marzipan. A very typical aged speysider in character but there is a lot of distillery identity in this one, which is always refreshing. Not overly complex on the palate but very beautifully composed and quite elegant. Dangerously moreish too.

Finish: Surprisingly long and full of resin, pine needles, wax, drying oak notes, more of these ‘Glenfiddich spices’, baked apples and custard.

Comments: I always like the Glenfiddich 30yo, this new batch seems to be even better than the old blue box bottling. Evidently a lot of time has gone into the cask selection and it has really paid off. I’ve always thought that Glenfiddich’s hallmarks are apple and spice qualities and this one has them in spades, like all good Glenfiddichs the distillery character just seems to hang around for decades. The only problem, yet again, is the strength, this is an expensive bottling and I think there is no reason it shouldn’t be at cask strength. I suspect the bottling strengths at Grants are based on a more traditional philosophy about whisky, which is fine, but I can’t help but think this would be stellar if it was bottled at full strength, even 46% would be better. Great whisky but that slight weakness docks it a mark or two.

Score: 89/100

I know many people who take pride in disliking Glenfiddich, or who make the common statement “Balvenie is alright but Glenfiddich is mass made crap!”. Well, I really have to disagree. As much as I love many of the Balvenie bottlings, I just think that it needs quite a bit more time to find its stride in cask. Glenfiddich on the the other hand seems to show well after 10-12 years and can keep going, often for a further 50 years with luck. Yes it is a lighter spirit but what’s wrong with that? What’s more lightness seems to be the recipe for a multitude of possibility in terms of whisky making, it finishes well, it ages well and it drinks well. Most importantly however, it always managed to taste like Glenfiddich, sure you can get many other malts that leap more readily out of the glass and announce themselves more clearly, but Glenfiddich has always had a quiet distinction about it, one that can be spotted so easily in so many of its bottlings, as those two examples just demonstrated. But, leaving aside issues of character and distinction, the most important thing this really shows us is that you don’t need a tiny, artisanal, micro-distillery to make great whisky, under such conditions it should strictly speaking be much easier to produce great whisky. The real difficulty is in consistently making a distinctive and classy whisky on such a huge scale, a feat which Glenfiddich has taken to an unparalleled level over the past century. You can slag it off all you like but, really, the proof is in the glass, you just need to open your mind to it and your nose and palate will follow.