Whisky Online Blog

This image from the Vancouver riots seems somehow appropriate for 2011. Almost makes me wish I'd been there. Almost makes me wish it (probably) wasn't photoshopped.

By any measure this has been a tumultuous year, 2012 has a lot to live up to it seems. It’s going to need more than the Olympics and a pile of hogwash about the end of the Mayan calender to compete with what 2011 has thrown at our feet. The Arab spring, an increasingly introverted and suicidal Euro, the UK Economy being run by a bunch of public school boys who still don’t understand why the general population can’t simply inherit some money to ease their financial quibbles. In Britain we had riots, marches, fury, extensive government cuts and a Scottish government of increasing popularity making good their promise and laying the framework for the potential dismantling of the UK. In America they had their own economic woes, they had less money than Apple at one point, and then there was the 10th anniversary of 9/11. Europe finally caved and went begging to China for spare cash, everyone’s favourite EU leader Berlusconi sadly had to go due to his country managing to have some kind of anti-economy based solely on under age prostitution, ‘Bunga Bunga’ parties, whisky faking and bribery. Angela Merkel proved herself to be the Girl Guide of Europe, David Cameron failed to deny he was a Synthetic Android from the Alien film franchise and Nicholas Sarkozy remained short. China continued to become massiver and massiver and to ignore ever increasing grumbles about its rather lax attitude towards human rights, after all who cares what others think when you have that much disposable income. Greece finally collapsed after years of reliance on an economy based solely on plate breaking and Ireland still writhes in the grip of the great cappuccino famine of 2011. This was also the year of the phone hacking scandal where Rupert Murdoch and his underlings managed to create the buck that never stops. Dictators of the world fell like playing cards in a wind tunnel this year, who can forget the blood lusty, yet satisfying way Colonel Gaddafi was gunned down in the streen, HA! Happy times. The most recent one though was North Korea’s comedy miniature despot Kim Jong-il who died, we can only assume from reading his official biography, from the fact that he never defecated. An impressive feat although it did explain why he spoke utter shit for most of his life. His copycat fat son is everyone’s favourite to win Despots On Ice 2012. Oh, and Bin Laden got shot in the head by Navy Seals. Apparently the reason he wasn’t forcibly extracted back to US soil to stand trial was that he was defending himself with automatic loaded wives, or something like that according to a memo from the CIA. So, a tumultuous year all in all.

But what about the year in Whisky? Well as the above image suggests it was a very good  year for publicity stunts. Dalmore, Macallan, Glenfiddich, Old Pulteney, they all clambered over each other, slavering at the gums like hounds of the baskerville with marketing diplomas. Desperate to conquer the squalid back pages of the press with their fetid little bling bottlings, or to tell us that Jim Murray, the greatest gift to whisky since domestic violence, had endorsed their product with his latest super score. There were other things afoot in whisky as well with the ‘world’ whiskies starting to finally gain the recognition they deserve. People continued to complain about the Ardbeg Committee with staggering levels of naivety, as if it was actually supposed to be some kind of exclusive country club instead of a big, oily marketing engine that runs on raw, self perpetuating nonsense. Maybe in 2012 people will actually stop complaining and realise that it is the way it is and they can’t help it so just stop approaching me at festivals and complaining to me because I happened to work at the distillery for two summers while at uni as if that somehow means I can just call up someone at Moet Hennessey and ‘have a wee word’. Gosh it feels good to get things off your chest. In related Ardbeggy news, the great blender Rachel Barrie left Glenmorangie and headed to the Bowmore/Glen Garioch/Auchentoshan stable and proceeded to say some very encouraging things about future production methods, although I’m still waiting for a reply to a comment I made on her facebook status about doing some more peated Glen Garioch, time will tell. The rush for Port Ellen 11th release drove consumers into a frenzy of mindless violence that ended in further outbreaks of rioting throughout the whisky shops of Europe. Lady Gaga got five cases though.  Whiskyfun turned 9 this year on July 28th, selfishly only 8 days after my own birthday thereby overshadowing that event in the whisky calender for so many people. I’ll get you yet Valentin (shakes fist). There has been much speculation over what Serge will do once Whiskyfun turns 10. However we all know he will convert the site into an online scores auctioneering base where companies bid thousands of euros (or francs depending on how things are looking come August) a time for whatever score he is offering that week. The first score will be 98 points and we know Inverhouse are already putting together a bid for their new non-aged, Iron Bru finished An Cnoc. Good times ahead.

The Hadron Collider, a big player in the whisky scene of 2012? Also don't do what I just did and run a google image search for 'Large Hardon Collider' by mistake.

So what does 2012 hold for whisky? I suspect we will see even higher prices, more fakes, the pointlessness of the ‘most expensive bottle ever sold’ war will spiral into the cosmic belly button of utter despair and consume all who dare venture near, like a black hole of fat, sweaty bollocks. The German Independent Bottling market will continue to blossom providing the best whiskies and the best prices. Kilchoman will continue to get better with age. Richard Patterson will host a tasting in the Large Hadron Collider. Ralfy will move to Sky One. Joel and Neil from caskstrength.net will open for the Pope at Glastonbury. Fred and Stuart Laing will merge into a single, two-headed person like Zaphod Beeblebrox from the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. The Port Ellen 12th release will be released in the style of Red Cross aid parcels in Ethiopia. UN soldiers will throw armfuls of them into baying crowds of angry whisky lovers armed to the teeth with pitchforks and ipads and just hope for the best while a representative from Diageo looks on via a satellite link up and calmly motions to his minions to begin ‘phase 2′. The Olympic opening ceremony will be sponsored by Bruichladdich, Jim McEwan and Boris Johnson will open the show with a beginners guide to Coopering. Octomore will be peated to 1 trillion ppm thus causing a tear in the space time continuum and creating what is known as a ‘phenolic irregularity’. Dave Broom will be the new Doctor Who companion and Martine Nouet will be the new Doctor Who. Daftmill will buy Diageo, George Osborne will retire from politics and re-open Brora with his vast personal fortune and Nick Clegg, finally overwhelmed by his spineless guilt, will commit suicide live on national television by downing a thousand miniatures of Edradour. So an exciting year for us all to look forward to.

Be sure to tune in for Nick Clegg's 'dram with destiny' in 2012.

On a personal note it is difficult to comment too succinctly on a  year that was racked by so much intensity, belt tightening, death and downright misery, purely because for me it was far and away the best year of my life. I travelled and made some of the best friends I’ve ever had, I found a great new job, moved into the best flat I’ve ever lived in with the best flatmate I’ve ever had and I’m in a position where things seem to be looking up. I am, in short, incredibly lucky and I try to realise it every day. So the final tasting of 2011 will be one themed around starting as you mean to go on, at least for as long as possible, I’m not sure how many more great Brora tastings I’ll be able to do..? A worrying thought indeed.

Brora 1970-2002. 32yo. Douglas Laing ‘Old & Rare’. 58.4%. 70cl. 

Huge thanks to Wayne for opening this beauty.

Colour: Straw Gold

Nose: Why do other distilleries bother making peated whisky? This is just another typically perfect early Brora. A myriad of farmyard, industrial, coastal and medical qualities with farminess taking the initial lead. Just beautiful! Opens up slowly with lemon skins, oils, mineral notes, pebbles, sea salt, camphor and tar. Sea air, brine, coal and a perfect underlying waxiness. It’s definitely leaning more towards coastal guises now. Lots of sea spray, lime juice, olive oil, seaweed, white flowers, sandalwood and tcp. It’s just massively fresh and vibrant. Just stunning, lets see if water can improve it even further… With water it just becomes almost hyper coastal, like raw sea water and oysters. Lemon juice, raw peat smoke, old kilns, iodine.

Palate: Massively oily on delivery, like boiler sheds, thick green peats, tar, peat oil, drying medicinal notes, smoked cereals, sea water, green olives in brine, hay, hessian and treacle. Smoked vanilla (?), chilli oatcakes, black pepper, Riesling, melted butter and chopped chives. Shellfish, crab meat, smoked mussels, fresh lemon juice, cured ham and more salt. With water: a really luxurious, elegant peat comes through now, loads of olive oil, bonfire smoke, burning grass, wax, smoked cereals, peppered mackerel and some wonderfully farmy notes of engine oil and horse stables.

Finish: Very long with drying peat smoke, wax, cereals, tar, white pepper, burnt toast, camphor and fish oil.

Comments: Another incredibly Brora, I think the 1970 and 71s were not quite as stellar as the 72s in my opinion. It seems like they were still experimenting and constantly tweaking the recipe, in 1972 they must have got things very right. However, this is all relative as this one is still galaxies ahead of most modern peated malts.

Score: 94/100

Brora 1972-1995. 22yo. OB Rare Malts. 61.6%. 70cl.

This is one of several truly legendary early Broras from the Rare Malts series.

Colour: Gold

Nose: Ouch! The word beast could have been invented for this one. Imagine a peat, honey, salt and turpentine smoothy and you’re not far off. Quite closed even after a long time in glass, aggressive and difficult but even with all that grumpy, miserly austerity it is still quite beautiful. Struck flints, big, raw mineral notes, hay, horse stables, burnt grass and old petrol cans. A true powerhouse whisky. I think we’ll add a bit of water straight away… with a little water it starts to freshen out a bit, salt, lemons, limes and a nice manure quality all start to make themselves felt. Becomes intensely ‘Brora’ with a huge farminess and notes of coal fires, seaweed, parsley and wax. Lets try another little bit of water: it actually got even better, now its super fresh, leafy, smoky and very medicinal. A stunning and perfect mix of all the classic Brora characters. This is one of those whiskies that swims like a fish, it absolutely needs careful time with water to bloom, but when it does, my god it’s magnificent.

Palate: Neat it is an aggressive bag of gravel, wet earth, green, concentrated peat oil and feisty minerals. Some farmyard hints of stables, hay, horses and tar then muesli, rope, wet leaves, coal and mercurochrome. With a first dilution… wow, a perfect profile, all on minty, leafy peats, all kinds of wax, a dazzling array of coastal notes and different oils. Perfect but lets try a little more water anyway… the peat gets even oilier, almost simmering like an old Ardbeg, oily, fat and mouth coating with a wonderfully farmy dirtiness. Superlative notes of seaweed, tar, tcp, bread, olive oil, brine, anchovies, kippers, black and green peppercorns, hummus, matchsticks and more salt. It’s quite incredible really, we’d best stop.

Finish: Ask me in 2013 how it’s coming along

Comments: I’ve wanted to taste this one for a long long time and, thanks to the generosity of Mr Brora (aka Serge) at D-Day I was finally able to. All I can say is these bottles are now expensive for a very good reason, they’re fucking brilliant whisky. Water is essential with this one, even adding it in increments it seems to change drastically with each new dilution. You could literally play for days if you had a full bottle, adding a little water, then a bit more whisky, seeing just how epic you could make it, mind the ‘ground zero’ of perfection if you like. There’s nothing being made anywhere in the world today in my opinion that can hold a candle to this kind of whisky. Maybe for 2012 the industry could look to the past a bit more for future inspiration.

Score: 96/100

Whatever happens next year I hope you can all become happier, wiser and more aware in everything you do and achieve. Enjoy the simple things in life, strive to make things better for yourself and all those around you. And above all, don’t take things too seriously.

Happy Hogmanay from all of us here at Whisky Online. Slante!

Angus. 31/12/2011

I’m sorry it has taken me a good week longer than planned to publish this second chapter in my trip report. It was due to technological hurdles to do with photographs which I will not be explaining any further due to the strong likelihood of me having a stroke if I have to deal with the issue any further.

The hotel we stayed after our visit to Glenfiddich was the wonderful Archiestown Hotel. It was situated in the village of the same name, a tiny sneeze of cottages and houses in the middle of Speyside’s rolling tundra. A sign on the small village green declared it to be Moray council’s best kept village for many years running, although some heathen nemesis of a neighbour had denied them their rightful victory for a few dark years in the 80s. Maybe they had miners strikes on or something?

The weather hasn’t picked up by the time we get back but the hotel is comfy, cosy and the staff are very welcoming and friendly. We rest and meet for dinner later in the evening. The food was utterly fantastic, a vibrant mix of classical Scottish fare, seasonal and local ingredients with a few creative twists thrown in. It was the kind of food that reminded you where you were, it felt, like the best whiskies, like it belonged very much to the place you were eating it. If you ever go there, I heartily recommend eating at the Archiestown.

Sleep that night was deep and thorough, incubated from the angry turbines of the night. It was one of those nights where the wind and rain seemed determined to level the land, screaming round the edges of the world. By the morning though they were spent, in their place hung a quiet cold blue dawn, grudging sunlight and a deliciously rich Kedgeree breakfast.

Whereas Glenfiddich is toured by thousands each year and is one of the main tourist focal points in this corner of Scotland, Balvenie remains a rarely toured distillery. Tours here are reserved for the more fanatical and industry related people. Funnily enough it is my second tour of Balvenie, perhaps it is because I am both industry connected and fanatical. Regardless, I’m very happy to see the distillery again, it has been five years since I was here last. Our guide is the cheerful and welcoming David Mair, Balvenie’s global ambassador. We don our requisite high visibility vests and begin.

The external shell condensers from the Balvenie stills.

What strikes most about Balvenie is that it seems to be very similar to its larger sibling in terms of the wildly industrial and purposeful layout and look of the place. The only difference is that Balvenie has none of the spit’n’polish that adorns Glenfiddich for the many visitors. It has its own shop and small visitor centre but the distillery itself is a practical clutter with a sole purpose in mind; to make more Balvenie and Kinninvie. It may be smaller than Glenfiddich but it is still a large distillery by any standards, it comfortably churns out about five million litres of new spirit a year.

Barley on the malt floors at Balvenie

We begin in the maltings where we are treated to a demonstration, an explanation of ‘monkey shoulder’ and the chance to have a shot at turning the barley ourselves. Something which produced results that ranged from abysmal to interesting…

Wayne developing a bad case of 'Retail Shoulder'.

The notorious Blogger's Shoulder.

David tells us about how they use approximately 10% of their own, lightly peated, malted barley which is mixed with the commercial unpeated malt to form what you might call the Balvenie mashbill. They also produce a run of peated malt at the end of each year, something that has been going on for the last seven or eight years and will, no doubt one day, produce some interesting bottlings. It has already been responsible for the Balvenie Peated Cask 17yo, a bottling where the standard 17yo Balvenie was finished in casks that had held younger peated Balvenie.

The kiln fire, burning anthracite when we arrive.

David invites Ian and Wayne for a wee kilnside chat.

The rest of the tour is laid back but thorough, the production is familiar to anyone that has been round distilleries before, the usual variances of fermentation times, washback construction and still size apply but the principals are very much traditional. The twin stainless steel mashtuns are impressive, like cold silver monoliths, another reminder that the Grant’s philosophy of over production and provision for the future very much applies here as well. Something we get to see first-hand when we make it to the warehouse. Before that though, we have the small matter of the cooperage.

The wash at Balvenie was surprisingly palatable. Always a fascinating experience to sample the wash at any distillery.

Balvenie's wildly industrial looking still room.

Balvenie and Glenfiddich share a cooperage, they’re one of only a clutch of distilleries in Scotland that have a dedicated one onsite. We approach it through a cask yard that is populated by epic pyramids of butts, puncheons, barrels and hoggies. Thousands of casks waiting to discover their fate, either they will be coopered and refilled or enjoy a long and happy retirement adorning a garden centre and providing a home to geraniums. Inside the cooperage itself is a muddle of workers, throwing sherry butts around like they’re made of balsa wood and preparing them for their next filling. We watch a butt being toasted and wait around hoping for a guttural belch of flames from between the staves, but all we get is a tease of smoke, not today for us the fires of the cooperage. It is a fascinating warren of casks and workers, the coopers will usually process at least sixteen casks a day. Watching them you can see why it is a much lauded and respected skill, one that requires physical strength, stamina, precision and intelligence, not a trade or skill that can be learned overnight. It’s like being serious about learning a musical instrument, if you’re going to do it, you have to decide to really do it.

A butt gets the toasting treatment...

Toasting the casks is smoky work.

The Coopers hard at work.

By contrast to the frenetic and ever visible work of the coopers, the work of the casks themselves is imperceptible, silent and unknowable. Standing in a dunnage warehouse is one of the most peaceful places to be I find. The walls of these ancient buildings seem to absorb the noise of the outside world, allowing only daggers of sunlight to permeate the unmistakably dank and earthy air. The smell of dunnage is hard to describe, it’s like the aroma of wet earth and old oxidised whisky with a tinge of mould. It is more of an aroma in its own right, one that defies deeper description, like the aroma of garlic or pinot noir, it just is. The warehouse we stand in is clearly one of those ‘show off’ warehouses that distilleries maintain if they can. This one is littered with casks dating back through every decade to 1964. The sheer quantity of old and gorgeous looking casks is giddying, I remark on more than one occasion that you could spend weeks in here just sampling them all. Although you might never make it out alive.

These are the casks that are currently marrying together and will form the ingredients of Tun 1401 Batch 3. Sadly it is all destined for the US market.

How much for one of these...?

David and Ian lead us down stairs to the lower level where we stand on the earth floor and are invited to fill a small bottle fresh from the cask of our choosing. We are given a choice of three, a fresh sherry butt, a first fill barrel or a refill hoggie, Wayne and I choose the hoggie. It is typically fresh and herbaceous, a clean and complex spirit with clear distillery fingerprints all over it. I’m sure I’ll write tasting notes of for it whenever I open my bottle.

Debbie fills her bottle using the copper 'dog'. I'm sure there is a dogging joke to be made here but quite frankly it's more than my life's worth.

Reluctantly we leave the warehouse and head back to the small visitors centre (which is more of a cottage really) where we are treated to a range tasting. First we taste the regular new make and, most fascinating to me, the peated new make which is fantastically sweet and composed as a spirit in its own right, the concentration of phenols is quite stunning. I can’t wait to try this whisky when they eventually release some. It is always interesting to begin a tasting with the new make spirit, as soon as you nose and taste it, even the standard 12yo tastes super old. We compare the 12yo Signature and the Double Wood, which is an interesting comparison. The differences between the two are slight and largely based on the levels of influence exerted by the sherry components in each one, I prefer the Signature. The single barrel is as good as ever, although, as with all these younger Balvenies, I feel the spirit holds on to its youthfulness a little too much for a teenager. As I have said before, I think Balvenie is a spirit that needs a good deal of age to really reach its full potential. Just tasting the 21yo Port Wood seems to confirm this, the difference is so striking, the spirit has opened up beautifully and all the fruit characters have changed from pears and apple peelings to green fruits and lush garden fruit qualities. I always liked the Port Wood, I think it’s one of the best finishes in any range, it seems to really work well and the Port is relatively invisible. Again, the Grants really seem to know how to do finishing. We finish the tasting with the two premium components of the range which, without further ado, are as follows…

This picture was duly pinched from Balvenie's website. I'm sure they won't mind.

Balvenie 30yo. OB. 2010 rotation. 47.3% 70cl.

Colour: Amber

Nose: Ahh, evidently a big and important sherry component here, lots of wax, pine needles, resin, furniture polish and sultanas. Notes of rancio, pipe tobacco, wet leaves, camphor, Dundee cake and raisins soaked in cognac. Further notes of milk chocolate, fig rolls and even a little cannabis (evidently the Grants are not as traditional as I thought), a really beautiful nose, very typically Balvenie with that concentrated and quite precise style. There is also still a slight bite of youth in the background which is quite remarkable, Balvenie really is a slow ager it seems.

Palate: Quite earthy and vegetal at first with some really beautiful notes of wild and dried mushrooms with a big earthy dunnage note as well. The strength really helps this one I think, if only they did the same with Glenfiddich. Lots of dates, mint leaf, molasses, Demerara sugar, old cognac, cereals, grass and a little very pleasant minerality. Some very nice savoury notes of buttered bread, pastry, vanilla pods, baked sultanas, a lovely herbaceous quality and cereals. There is also a little wood smoke kicking about in the background, delicious.

Finish: Medium to long with honey, minerals, earth, stewed fruits, menthol and butter.

Comments: A cracking 30yo. It’s expensive but the quality is excellent. David told me that the average vatting for this bottling is around 100 casks. It says a huge amount about the skill of those involved in cask selection that they can juggle the character and still create a consistent and premium product at the end of the day. Of course it helps that old Balvenie is generally very good. I think the line of quality between this and the Glenfiddich 30yo we had yesterday is pretty narrow but the extra strength and general oomph of this one nudges it up a notch.

Score: 90/100

Balvenie Tun 1401. OB. Batch 2. 50.2%. 70cl.

This is a vatting of ten casks that range from the late sixties to the mid 80s with the predominant emphasis being on the older components. The first batch was excellent, I scored it 90 so I’ve got high hopes for this one.

Colour: Bright Amber

Nose: Typical aged Balvenie but fresher thanks to the vatting and somehow more multifaceted than the 30yo. Very leafy with green fruits and wet earth but also those same typical notes of brown sugar, butter and simmering spices. Lots of sultanas, raisins, dates and other dried fruits, the aged notes speak loudest but that freshness from the slightly younger casks is very distinctive. There is even a slight coastal wink in there as it were, very entertaining so far. With water it becomes hugely green and leafy with lots more motes of minerals and grass then more typically aged notes of stewed fruits and motor oil.

Palate: Lots of wax and camphor at first with a big honey sweetness up front, this gets progressively drier as the oak kicks in and more waxy, glazed fruit notes come through. Toasted brioche, buttery croissants, smoked cereals, herb liqueur notes like green chartreuse and wax paper. More honeyed notes of mead, butter, menthol and graphite oil. With water: surprisingly big, loads of spices, lush green fruits, menthol, wet grains, rancio, beeswax and another kick of coastal character. This is really delicious.

Finish: Long, drying, green, fruity and aromatic. Lots of cereals, bread, brown sugar, mead, grass, minerals and oak.

Comments: There are many distillers who lack aged stock these days who are very fond of singing the praises of young NAS ‘cuvee’ style malts. While these malts often lack something and give the idea of NAS vattings a bad name it is easy to forget that when you start to play with serious aged stock you can create something truly beautiful. Thankfully Belvenie have that luxury and consequently the balance in this one between aged and youthful qualities is truly striking, they really have created a brilliant whisky. Although at £150 you would expect so. I think this is a great series by Balvenie, long may they be able to continue it.

Score: 91/100

We departed that afternoon in a rare blaze of sunshine considering the season. As I said in the first part of this report, the Grants distilleries are not always the most popular. They are mass production plants, a far cry from the modern trend of artisanal micro distilling that we are all so fond of raving about. Without a doubt they are distilleries with flaws, but no more so than any other distillery, to visit they are large, fascinating and, to an extent, unknowable. Both products of the late 19^th century distilling boom they remain models of sensible and savvy business practice but, most of all, they are monuments to dedication, hard work and a certain level of commitment and faith which is so often absent in an otherwise quite cold and mathematical industry. You only have to spend some time with people like Ian, Bert and David to understand why these are valuable and great distilleries. All I can say to you is go there and see for yourself.

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.