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

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! What do you mean not funny?! HAHAHAHAH! Well it amused me.

So, yes, Glen Ord. This is another residual tasting from D-Day. A rather fascinating old official 5yo along with a much more recent offering from Douglas Laing. The fact that Glen Ord is not a popular dram perhaps says something about modern tastes. People do seem easily seduced by the sweetness of modern ‘populist’ whiskies. More ‘difficult’ distillates such as Glen Ord seem like hard sell nowadays. With its fragrant waxiness, light coastal qualities and elegant herbaceous aspects, it is not a distillate that comes easily to most palates. Or is it? Whenever I host a tasting, which isn’t too often these days admittedly, but whenever I do I go to great lengths to make sure there is something like a Glen Ord, a Clynelish or a Springbank in the mix alongside your Glenmorangies, Glenlivets or Macallans. If people know about these kinds of differences and get to experience them then they will often go for the more tricky or elegant dram over the sweet one. Maybe it’s the familiar pitfall of modern culture where people are quite happy to be told what to drink rather than discover it for themselves. Perhaps an explanation of Jim Murray’s continued success in certain corners of the market. Remember when Glen Ord was sold as a deal with the Classic Malts series about ten years ago in the old oval green label packaging. They couldn’t give the stuff away. A shame considering it is a better spirit than at least half the whiskies they chose for the classic malts series. Anyway, I’m not really complaining, under appreciation helps keeps the prices down and that suits me fine.

Glen Ord 5yo OB. 43%. 75cl. 1970s. Italian Import. 

This is another of the many drams that came my way courtesy of Olivier over the D-Day weekend. Merci Olivier.

Colour: Pale white wine

Nose: Typically old style and very Glen Ord with these lovely delicate notes of honeyed wax, honeycomb, struck flints, wild flowers, a pinch of salt and dried cereals. Quite petroly and drying with a fragrant smoky herbal quality, very akin to some mid aged classy Riesling in some ways. Miles away from any modern distillates, very approachable, bottle ageing has probably helped a great deal here. Touches of vanilla, rice pudding, eucalyptus toothpaste, porridge, grass and some very fine minerals.

Palate: Very soft and drying delivery but not lacking in punch or strength, rather more silky washing over of the palate. Lots of flavour concentration, all on seashore notes, wax, buttered toast with honey, more floral aspects, cooking oil, burnt almonds, caraway seeds and herb liqueurs. Quite extraordinarily drinkable. Given this blind you would never say it was a five year old whisky. Admittedly there are probably much older casks in the vatting as was pretty typical back in the (good) old days. It’s a perfect example of this old highland style that I love, you just cannot find this kind of whisky being made anywhere in Scotland these days. Leaves you with a very watery mouth, a whole bottle of this would easily disappear over the course of a night, hugely moreish and satisfying.

Finish: Medium and with more intricate herbal touches, notes of tarragon and sorrel with more caraway, nutmeg and toast notes. Some lemon drops knocking about in there somewhere too.

Comments: Just another brilliant old style bottling. I love it. These bottlings show up from time to time and aren’t particularly expensive. Buy one if you see it, buy it and drink it.

Score: 91/100

Glen Ord 14yo. Douglas Laing. OMC. 50%. 70cl. (from an official sample so no pic sorry)

Colour: Pale white wine (virtually the same as the 5yo)

Nose: A world apart, much more modern (although still slightly old style by modern standards if you see what I mean), lots more wood noise with vanilla cream, dessicated coconut and pear drops. There are some pleasant but tiny touches of wax and minerals along with pollen, lilies, lychee sorbet, gin, some resinous camphor notes and tea. Opens up quite nicely after some time, it’s not as distinctive as the 5yo by any means but it is a very pleasant nose in its own right. Notes of truffle oil, sour dough, a little chilli pepper and white chocolate.

Palate: Quite pleasantly spicy, medium dry and a little fruity with some very pleasant, savoury notes of brown bread, branston pickle oddly enough and good cheese Gouda perhaps? Not cheesy in a bad way mind you. Quite a big and rich Glen Ord, more herbal liqueur notes, a character that seems to be a Glen Ord signature. Notes of Kummel, soda bread, yeast, white fruits, apple peelings, flints and some pleasant mineral qualities. Very tasty stuff.

Finish: Long, bready, savoury, biscuity and delicately fruity with garden fruits, white flowers and some more soft vanilla sweetness.

Comments: Its a very good kind of modern whisky as far as I’m concerned, one that still retains quite a few more aromatic, old style qualities. Very drinkable again.

Score: 84/100

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.