Bea's Birthday Booze: Glenfarclas 1965-2005 Scott's Selection

Beatrice turns five years old this week. This means she will promptly exit the fearsome, frightful, forever fours, right? Please? We just completed a very bumpy weekend together, and I'm navigating food poisoning so I'll have something cute to say about my youngest on another post.

According to a whiskyfun post from 15(!) years ago, today's independently bottled whisky caused some trouble because Scott's Selection dared list Glenfarclas's name on the label. Serge also loved the heck out of the whisky. Did I also love the heck out of it?

Distillery: Glenfarclas
Ownership: J&G Grant
Region: Speyside (Central)
Bottler: Scott's Selection
Age: ~40 years (1965 - 2005)
Maturation: "Oakwood casks" (yep)
Outturn: ???
Alcohol by Volume: 48.5%
(A big thank you to Cobo!!!)

NOTES

This nose has four quadrants. First, the old stuff: dunnage, mothballs and dusty leather. Second, the fruits: guava and pineapple juices. Third, desserts: toffee and milk chocolate. Fourth, the curios: rotting kelp on the beach and calamine lotion. Sometimes these zones cross, and sometimes they segregate. It works, though.

Sadly the palate falls short of the nose. It's a bit dusty, sweet and bitter at the start, with notes of anise, limes, burlap and plums in the mid- to background. But then oak takes over. Beyond the woody bitterness and tannin, I can sort out a few new notes like soil, coffee grounds and baking chocolate.

It finishes with menthol, wormwood and black coffee after early sips. Later sips turn into a mix of lime juice and oak juice.

WORDS WORDS WORDS

No, I was not smitten with this one, though if the palate matched the nose this would have been quite an entertaining sipper. But also, I'm not a diehard fan of ultra-aged Glenfarclas, with their 43yo cognac cask being a rare exception. The spirit seems to be hyper extractive, which works well for their younger sherried products, but starts pulling up splinters by the fourth decade. Cobo, who generously provided this sample, was also less enamored of it than ol' WF was. The nose was what salvaged it for me, but, again, whisky is made for drinking.

Availability - Secondary market?
Pricing - ????

Rating - 83

Mathilda Malt: Ledaig 16 year old 1973 Gordon & MacPhail

My failures as a father are legion. Just ask my father, children, ex-wife, neighbors, random passersby. Actually don't ask them. Please.

But my daughter, Mathilda, already has a palate more sophisticated than mine when I was 25. And she is eight years old as of yesterday. Her birthday breakfast request? A scramble with black beans, zucchini and feta cheese, along with kombucha and Japanese senbei. Those are things I didn't eat, or know about, let alone request, until I was nearly twenty years older than her. She will seemingly try anything, and wants to know about every culture everywhere. While that is not 100% my doing, my influence has been enough to allow for one Father Flex today. 

I often celebrate her birthday with a bunch of Littlemill reviews, but since I'm nearing the end of my Littlemill sample supply, I will be fortifying this week's selection with potential gems from other distilleries.

The whisky anorak generation that preceded mine has waxed romantic about the first few vintages of Tobermory's peated Ledaig malt. Thanks to generous whisky friends, I've had a chance to try two 1972s and they were both wonderful pours indeed. Today's whisky is from a bottle split of a 1973 Ledaig that was distributed solely in America more than 30 years ago. Gordon & MacPhail tragically bottled it at 40%abv, as they did with hundreds of other Connoisseurs Choice single malts in their early years.

But still, it's 1973 Ledaig.

Distillery: Tobermory
Brand: Ledaig
Owner: Distell International Ltd.
Region: Isle of Mull
Bottler: Gordon & MacPhail
Range: Connoisseurs Choice
Age: at least 16 years old
Vintage: 1973
Maturation: "Oak Casks" 🤔
Alcohol by Volume: 40%
Chillfiltered? ???
e150a? ???
(from a bottle split)

NOTES

Forget the abv, the intense, nuanced nose arrives gorgeously. A variety of phenols appear (barbecue, pine smoke, pipe smoke, antiseptic, and kiln), merging seamlessly with the fruit (mango, citron, baked apple). Maybe some fruity shisha too. The peat retreats to a secondary role, letting the fruit expand, offering notes reminiscent of old Laphroaig. It continues to roar after 90 minutes, focusing on the citron, mango, kiln, and naan fresh off the tandoor.

The palate has the nose's balance but comes in a bit light. Tropical fruit punch, salt, bitter herbs, lemon, and seaweed-y smoke sound as one. It gets sweeter with time, holding on to the bitterness, and gaining an antiseptic note.

The finish sticks around for a decent amount of time, offering the seaweed smoke, honey, tart lemons and kiln.

WORDS WORDS WORDS

My Gourd, that nose is an All-Timer. I don't know how it was done, nor how that process was lost, nor if it can be replicated, but the fact that this sensory experience came from a max-diluted teenage whisky is staggering (if noses can stagger). The water shows its influence in the palate, though, limiting my superlatives here. Everything works in the mouth, but it's hushed and thinned. Despite that, I held onto this pour for nearly two hours, relishing the moment, knowing this experience may never be repeated.

Availability - Secondary market
Pricing - I ain't looking
Rating - 91 (the nose, tho)

Mathilda Malt: Littlemill 25 year old 1988 for K&L

As mentioned in Friday's post, my older daughter, Mathilda, just turned seven. To celebrate each of her previous birthdays on the blog, I've lavished praise upon her and then reviewed a Littlemill. At some point soon, I'll run out of Littlemill samples, which will be a beautiful thing because that will mean I have enjoyed a lot of Littlemills.

But I don't feel comfortable writing extensively about my family right now. This would still be the case if I knew all of you personally. I used to freely and publicly write about personal matters, sometimes right here on this blog, but things are not as they once were. I feel very protective of the Rube Goldberg machine that is my internal life, and even more protective of my remarkable daughters.

In high school I had a habit of calling one of my best buddies on the phone to tell him when I couldn't hang out. This is the same. Hello, I can't talk right now, though I am thinking of you.

But I can write about this whisky I tasted. So in honor of the seventh birthday of the most fascinating and complex person I have ever met, here's a Littlemill!

Distillery: Littlemill

Region: Lowlands

Independent Bottler: Creative Whisky Company

Range: Exclusive Malts

Age: 25 years (7 November 1988 - 2014)

Maturation: ???
Cask #: 8
Outturn: 298 bottles

Exclusive to: K&L Wine Merchants

Alcohol by Volume: 54.9%

(Thanks again to Brett for the sample!)

NOTES

White peaches, roses, pears and tangerines fill the nose's foreground, while honey and damp moss drift through the background. The nose shifts once the whisky is reduced to 46%abv, as notes of toffee, oak spice and malt move to the fore. Jasmine, peach ice cream and lychee gummies sneak in around the edges.

The palate starts with a lovely combination of hay, honeycomb, roasted cashews and shortbread biscuits, then slowly develops notes of lychee, bitter citrus peel and peach skins. A little more herbal bitterness appears once the whisky is diluted to 46%abv, as does some more heat and sweetness, with minerals and melon rind in the background.

It finishes with honey, shortbread and lychee, though with only tiny bit of sweetness. The bitter citrus peel gives it a nice zing. At 46%abv, it picks up roses, orange juice and a hint of minerals.

WORDS WORDS WORDS

Continuous fruit and countryside (no manure) notes result in another excellent Littlemill experience. It's a late spring / early summer whisky to enjoy outside, maybe with some early Miles calling out from a Bluetooth speaker. Yes, I wish I'd pre-ordered this whisky back when it was priced the same as a single cask bottle of six-year-old Kilchoman. But having tried this Littlemill fills me with a grateful feeling that far outweighs the regret.

Availability - Sold out
Pricing - $140 at pre-order, then $160
Rating - 90

Mathilda Malt: Littlemill 22 year old 1990 Berry Brothers & Rudd (the final round)

I am a troll in a house full of luminous fairies. I am a walking I Don't Know What I'm Doing meme. I am very grateful and very confused. This world of parenting and beautiful girls remains mysterious, and Queen Enigma turns six years old today.

She feels seven things at once, releasing a stream of sentences each one contradicting the previous, refusing the things she loves only to beg for them back. Her artistic sensibility far exceeds mine already. She struggled with Disney's Alice in Wonderland because Alice is such a passive protagonist. Resolutely her own person, she would still fuse into her mother at every moment if she could. She wants to be thrice her age and half her age. She wants to travel the world and always stay home. She is always brave and nervous. Or at least braver than I am. I want her to grow up to be stronger than her father, to make better choices and never relinquish her passions. Sometimes I want Mathilda to be older right now so she can tell me everything will be alright and I would believe her and only her. But she's six. And watches Frozen 2 every week.

Today's Littlemill was opened on her third birthday. Since then I've only brought it out during this one week of the year, or when I'm hosting whisky friends. I could let this bottle stretch out to the next birthday, but I won't. It's time to enjoy it and move on.

And no, I won't be comparing the whisky to her. I no longer compare whisky to women, and if you still do you may want to consider your relationship to both. My daughters teach me stuff.

Distillery: Littlemill

Former Owner: Glen Catrine Bonded Warehouse Ltd (proto-Loch Lomond Distillery Co.)

Independent Bottler: Berry Bros. & Rudd
Region: Lowlands (close to the Highlands border)

Age: 22 years (1990-2013)

Maturation: American oak?
Cask number: 17

Alcohol by Volume: 54.3%
Chillfiltered? No
Caramel Colorant? No

(from the bottle half of my bottle)

NEAT

Barley roars forward in the nose with citronella, apricots and Bartlett pears in the midground. Then there are freshly roasted nuts and hints of creamy confections. It's floral but never too pretty due to the weight of the barley spirit. There's plenty of heat in the palate, but it also holds onto the nose's fruits, also adding yellow cherries, tart blackberries and zippy yuzu. Salted caramels float to the surface after 45 minutes. It finishes as fiercely as the palate starts, but adds some sweetness. There's plum wine, salted caramels, almond extract and brisk tart citrus.

DILUTED TO ~46%abv, or 1 tsp water per 30mL whisky

The nose feels fuller, more fragrant, more floral. Salty ocean air, white peaches and a lemon tart. The palate becomes puckeringly tart, lots of limes and grapefruits. Hints flowers and minerals, a pinch of sugar. Tart citrus and berries lead the finish. Not much sweetness. Jasmine and stones.

WORDS WORDS WORDS

The birthday girl continues to build a remarkable palate. She scarfed down plain greek yogurt before she turned two, and now she insists on eating limes. "They're fruit." The tartness in this whisky's diluted finish almost stripped my tastebuds. It's a heck of a thing and she'd enjoy the sensory experience, except this is whisky. I'm sipping some of the whisky again, from a tumbler instead of a glencairn, but even this wide glass doesn't soften the bite.

Apparently this Littlemill mellowed out during its second and third rounds, but has since toughened up. It's not even a casual drinker at 46%abv. Still all its fruits could go well with this spring weather. I'll drop it to 43 or 40 percent just to find its best spot. And there's a lot of it left.

Availability - Sold out
Pricing - $140 back in January 2015
Rating - 87

Bea's Birthday Booze: Bowmore 21 year old 1973

The 9-to-5 (or rather then 7-to-5) work life leaves parents with a minimum of positive time with their children. We get to see our wee ones just after they wake up and just before they go to sleep. Those are not Happy Kid Times.

Recently I was blessed with an opportunity to hang out with Beatrice, just we two, for a number of hours during the day, and it was delightful. Here are some things we did:

• Read eleven board books without pause. I'd exhausted my various character voices, most of which are offensive stereotypes, by book five. As narrator, I was not allowed to break for tea or potty.
• Watched baseball, or rather BAY-BALL. (She speaks in bold and caps.) My girls now request to watch baseball highlights, which is a-ma-zing! The playoffs last only three more weeks, but the girls will have likely grown out of it by then. Treasuring it now.
• My favorite: a makeover. For at least 20 minutes, I was instructed to SIT PAPA SIT, during which time zoo stickers were applied to my forehead (ample space!), and every item from the girls' play kitchen was rubbed all over my face and hair. She had incredible focus, taking seven different calls on her toy(?) phone without pausing her esthetician work. I look younger and prettier as a result.

Life went back to normal the next day. Remind me to schedule a followup appointment.

This sample has been sitting unopened for much too long. It's a good time for something special.

Distillery: Bowmore

Owner at time of distillation: Stanley Morrison
Owner at time of bottling: Suntory Holdings
Region: Islay

Age: 21 years
Distilled in: 1973

Maturation: sherry butts

Alcohol by Volume: 43%abv
(from a purchased sample)

The Nose - Yes there are ripe melons, yuzu, kabosu and summer peaches, but I cannot overstate the fruits' intensity. It fills the the nose from across the room. Just beneath that one can find the ocean, salty air, bonfire, kelp and seaweed. Gentler notes of ground cloves, shisha, antiseptic and honey linger around the edges.

The Palate - A swirl of dense gorgeous oceanic peat and delicate baking spices. Some of the nose's bright Japanese citrus (though beware of taking a bite of kabosu, those can be tart as a MFer), along with California lemons. The citrus takes over after 30 minutes and fills whatever sensory nooks haven't succumbed to the nose.

The Finish - The citrus peels and peat have merged and remain for a long, long time with just the right amount of sweetness.

Words Words Words - I don't really understand how this intensity came to exist in a 43%abv whisky that sat in its bottle 20 years, then in a sample bottle for 4-5 years. And had I been born twenty years earlier, and been used to consuming whisky of this quality, I would have quit scotch whisky in this decade. There's nothing like this now. Yes, Bowmore still hits doubles and triples with some of their independent single casks. But those ain't this. This is a remarkable whisky.

Availability - Auctions, maybe
Pricing - A whole lot of money
Rating - 93

Bea's Birthday Booze: Charbay single barrel hop-flavored whiskey, bottled for T5C

Nearly every weekend morning begins with "PAPA! UP! PAPA GET UP! GET! UP! GET! UP!" Beatrice will even run over to the bed and grab the blanket and try to pull it off.

(I'm not complaining. She does this at 7:00am and not 5:00am. Not yet.)

Later that morning, "Can Papa give you a hug?" "NO!" Papa is proud of his confident girl. Papa also crawls into a cave in his mind to sob by hi-- "NO! PAPA OUT!"

Some Charbay perhaps?

As I mentioned to the gentleman who shared this sample, I basically lose my brains when I drink Charbay. My bias towards single pot still Irish whiskey proves quaint compared to my feelings about full-power Charbay.

Distillery: Charbay

Type: Charbay-flavored whiskey
Region: Charbay, Charbay

Mashbill: 100% Charbay
Age: 3 Charbays old
Maturation: Charbay cask

Exclusive to: T5C who selected this Charbay

Alcohol by Volume: 73.4% (yes, Charbay)
(Thank you to Secret Agent Man)

The nose: One would have no idea that this is 73.4%abv judging by the nose. There are pine needles, cherries and vanilla beans wrapped in a heavy hops blanket. Lots of fragrant wood: sandalwood, cedar and Palo Santo. It shifts with time, releasing maple, fennel, butterscotch sauce and more cherries. No burn.

The palate:

So yeah, dank. Unlike most Charbays it strikes right up front rather than unfolding later on. There are also mint leaves and fried plantains in honey. Lime candies and dried oregano amongst bitter herbal moments. More drinkable than most whiskies bottled 20 percentage points lower.

The finish: Looooooong. Graceful old oak, IPA, mint leaves and hints of bell peppers. It's gentler on the ganja than other Charbays. BUT IT'S THERE. Man.

Words Words Words: While this pick doesn't ascend to the heights of some of the numbered (I-VII?) series, it's still a tremendous thing. I don't understand how it can be so easily consumed when bottled at such a violent strength. It's scary and wonderful and yo where are the cupcakes and peanut butter and those really crunchy kettle chips. Oh, I'm sorry that's the "hops" talking. Meanwhile, the oak notes are lovely. It's as if the cask was fashioned with a variety of aromatic woods and some old furniture. The mad and marvelous Marko does it again.

Availability - Sold out
Pricing - ???
Rating - 89

Blogger Blocked By Tipple Terminating Toddler

My lovely little Beatrice shared her cold with me last week, and now she and I are competing to see who can keep it the longest. We both seem to have improved considerably today, but I'm delaying any whisky reviews until my nose is trustworthy. That could be tomorrow or next week.

Not drinking has been fabulous, especially since I wake up with what feels like a hangover every morning. What does suck is that laryngitis kept me from singing "Happy Birthday" to the wee one on her first birthday. I'll get her back by singing twice as loud and obnoxiously next year.

Reviews to restart soon. Probably?

Two Jazz Tunes for Birthday Beatrice Joy

When she came out, she was silent. I can't do justice in writing to capture the liquefying dread I felt in that moment. All of our pregnancies had been full of tragedy or terror, and this one was no exception. But then I saw Beatrice's clear brilliant eyes open wide between their butterfly wing lashes. Her stare traversed the room for a moment, then she released a short coughing cry to clear her lungs.

Kristen had been (and still is) an excellent sport, letting me put together a Birthing Gametime playlist. She wanted the most peaceful ethereal soothing stuff I could assemble. Amongst all the Sigur Ros and Brian Eno compositions, it was "It Never Entered My Mind" by The Miles Davis Quintet that she liked the best. And it was to that song Beatrice Joy was born.


When I'd first heard the song, when we were pregnant with Mathilda, I was nearly in tears. I would have never guessed it was one of Miles's works, due its direct emotive piano part. A fantasy then began, in the back of my mind, of a future retrospective slideshow of our quiet, calm, Mathilda-to-be. Of course, Mathilda turned out to be, well...

From the start, Beatrice was like a cherub or the jolly Budai. A center of calm and, yes, joy. She laughed so early. She loved to be snuggled. Like a fool, I sorta kinda totally utilized her to lift me out of frequent frustrations and anxiety attacks. Then she became her own person.

She has her sister's emotion, strength and intelligence, but gives it her own spin. With those big eyes and awesome rocker girl hair, she flirts and charms, then issues her decrees. Constantly in motion, she is faster than any child I've seen.

One recent morning, Cannonball Adderley's "Money in the Pocket" filled our kitchen while Bea propelled herself across the floor one way, and then back the other direction in a giddy blur. It was obvious she'd added a new song to her soundtrack.


Despite months and months of colds, coughs, fevers and continuing health trials, all of which have been the greatest struggles of her life, Bea has remained a gleeful sprite. Meanwhile, her father still cusses out the world and existence when he catches two red traffic lights in a row. It's no joke, my daughters have things to teach me that no one else can.

Happy First Birthday, Beatrice Joy!

Mathilda Rose turns 4!

Here she is, posing with the two snow demons I'd summoned to appease Kuraokami.

You don't see your child grow up in real time. There are the moments when she'll do something that has always been just beyond her, and you gasp involuntarily. Or the sudden realizations of, "When did she get so big?", as you feel a great loss and a great gain at the same time.

Mathilda wants to be a big girl and a baby at the same time. (Which is kinda the human condition in general.) But her grasp of math, art and architecture (really) is the most amazing thing I've witnessed aside from the girls' births, and that time this little girl just stood up and started walking. I'd like to think she gets her math skills from her nerdy father. But the artistic side ain't from my people. In fact it's totally foreign to me, and it makes her her own person — which she's always been, anyway, since birth.

Happy Birthday, Mathilda Rose. The possibilities hiding in every moment have become infinite ever since you've been around.

Shinshu Mars 12 year old 1986 single cask 452

My daughter's preschool class is learning how to share, which is GREAT now that they've given me their stomach virus. Thanks, kids!

Mathilda's ability to pull off the boot-and-rally is truly admirable. I, on the other hand, have seemed to misplace the past 24 hours, and a considerable amount of bodily fluid along with it.

Luckily, all the tasting notes below were typed two days ago (or was it three?). And there's a possibility that the Mars sequence will now last three weeks rather than two. Yay!

Speaking of which, the first Shinshu Mars whisky from my Mission: Mars series is the earliest of the bunch, a single sherry cask from 1986. It was diluted to 43%abv. Will that be an issue?

photo source

Brand: Mars
Distillery: Shinshu
Ownership: Hombo Shuzo Co. Ltd.
Region: Japan, Nagano Prefecture
Age: 12 years (December 12, 1986 - ???)
Maturation: ex-sherry cask
Cask #: 452
Bottled for: Espoa
Alcohol by Volume: 43%
(from a purchased sample)

Its color is light gold.

The nose opens gradually. It starts off with pipe tobacco and hot cocoa. Then there's plums, jelly rings and dried apricots. Then damp forest and lime zest. With 30+ minutes in the glass it gets more candied: grape gumdrops, orange slices and candied ginger. An ocean/briny note lingers throughout.

The palate starts off salty and savory, but not meaty. More like umeboshi. It's also a bit earthy. Some bitter chocolate and dried berries. Hints of oak spice, mint leaves and cabernet sauvignon. The mouthfeel is enormous for its ABV.

The finish has a good length to it. Tart and tangy citrus. Sea salt and mint leaves. Fresh tobacco. Blackberry syrup. Oolong tea.

I'm not sure what's more remarkable, the nose's depth or the palate's expanse. Would anyone would guess this was a 43%abv 12 year old if it were tasted blindly? My expectations were foolishly set low for this magical wee thing. The rest of these whiskies have their work cut out for 'em.

Availability - Secondary market, if you're lucky
Pricing - sold for £195 at auction last year, though whiskybase estimates a higher value
Rating - 90

Introducing Beatrice Joy Kravitz

Happy Birthday, Mathilda Rose!

The Earth has completed three full revolutions around the sun since her birth. They've been three years unlike any other three years. It's fair to say we've all earned tonight's pizza and cupcakes. Her gender-flexible bear has earned it the most.

I am humbled every day by the expanse of Mathilda's imagination and emotions. The world can be overwhelming for someone who loves and cries as deeply as she does, but I know that our fiery and glorious mighty battle maiden will be just fine.

Diving for Pearls in 2017

Hi. I am the creator.

Of Diving for Pearls. I write the posts and attempt to keep The Big Whisk(e)y list up to date. Sometimes I add things to the right side of the page. Sadly, if you're reading this on a mobile device, you can't see the right side of the page, which is a shame because it's amazing.

I live in Ohio. I used to live in Los Angeles County. My wife supports this blog and represents 25% of my readership. My daughter just graduated into pull-up diapers and threenager-dom. I'm doing some freelance work that's keeping me very busy right now, but will likely dry up just when it's getting good. Is this the face of an optimist?

This Blog

When I started this blog in 2007, I wrote about film, music and my personal life. In 2011, I went from being a whisky enthusiast to a full-on fanatic. Gradually, whisky-themed posts took over the entire blog. By 2013, my natural cynical tendency, which had slipped into the occasional post, had spread like a little drop of ink in a glass of water until it tinted every whisky thing I wrote.

In January 2015, I posted a three-part series entitled What Was the Scotch Boom, using public data supplied by the Scotch Whisky Association to illustrate the industry's financial reality and expose some of the myths in their narratives. Those posts garnered more reads in five days than I usually get in two months. In January 2016, I wrote a three-part follow-up called Scotch Ain't Dead Yet, updating the previous year's stats and charts, and re-examining the narratives. Again, readers seem to have enjoyed it.

My plan was to continue these studies, but the Scotch Whisky Association still hasn't released the data for 2015. If they do, then I will happily write another set of posts studying scotch whisky sales, volumes and prices. If they don't, well, I'll figure out something.

2017

So what about now? I spend an increasing percentage of my casual (read: note-free) alcoholic beverage indulgence sipping on drinks other than whisky. Taking beer and wine into consideration, non-whisk(e)y things make up almost half of my alcoholic drinks.

You will have noticed that an increasing contingent of excellent whisky bloggers have begun to mix in reviews of other aged spirits with their whisky posts. That's awesome, and I hope more whisky bloggers follow in their footsteps. As of this moment, I will not be joining them. I'm not prepared to pontificate on things I don't thoroughly know about. Yes, that puts me at odds with the raison d'être of the Internet.

But I'm having fun learning about non-whisky drinks and enjoying not having to consider their purpose in the cosmos. I also feel like I have a different palate than other whisky-bloggers-who-write-about-brandies-and-rums when it comes to other drinks. And I'm figuring out where to go with that.

My apologies for bombarding this site with Ardbeg reviews for the past two weeks. I had cleared my calendar space to write about the industry's financial condition. When the numbers didn't come out, I found inspiration in the Ardbeg Ten I'd just bought on sale. It was not particularly great whisky and my accumulation of Ardbeg samples had begun to get out of control. Thus all those reviews.

Bourbon and Rye Day Friday will start up again in a couple weeks. If I do choose to review non-whisky drinks, they will get their own day of the week as well so that you, the reader, will know which day to skip. I hope to do larger thinkpieces once a month (or two) about capital 'W' Whisky and small 'e' enthusiasts. And I look forward to visiting a number of American distilleries and then sharing with you what I've learned.

Not Booze

I have started and abandoned dozens of album reviews as if they were novels. Not so much with film reviews. In fact, I don't know how parents of young children get to watch any films at all. I don't watch television, and I think American politics is doing well enough publicly commenting on itself without the need for me to add to it.

My daughter and my work are the center of my life. The latter I complete anonymously, so I can't really get into it here, yet. I've chosen to tone down the frequency of posts about the former, for privacy purposes. When I do write about parenthood, it's a spur of the moment illustration of my failures (manifold!) and my successes (exiguous!). I've also reduced the amount of photos I've shared because she is her own person now (is she ever) and I'd like to protect her right to privacy. Parents who pummel social media with photos of their kids every day give me a weird feeling inside. I ponder the real purpose behind those posts, and I wonder who looks at those pictures outside of the intended audience.

Today, I'll just include this image of Emily Prime,
the star of The World of Tomorrow

Still, I will celebrate my daughter here on her birthday. And I should probably laud my young wife on hers. And goodness knows, this blog is a party on my birthday week.

To conclude

I wish everyone a happy and healthy 2017. If you're an American, please be careful about the quantity of alcohol you consume over the next four years. If you're from China, welcome! Drink single grain whisky! It's so much better than single malt whisky! If you're from another excellent country, thank you for reading my blog posts. How easy is it for a family of three to get citizenship?

As the kids in China say, 886.

Fatherhood Report: Winter Gloves

It's 19 degrees outside. Mathilda has graduated from mini potholder-shaped mittens to five-finger gloves. She and I are in our coats and hats, miraculously on track for getting to school on time. I bend over to try to wiggle the first glove onto her tiny hand.

Seven minutes—at least four hundred and twenty seconds—later we are still working on the first glove.

Our coats and hats are off, lying around us on the kitchen floor. I've begun to sweat. My lower back is seizing up. A supplicant on his knees, I'm practicing controlled breathing as I continue to wiggle her fingers into their assigned places beneath the wool.

"Papa?" she says.

Despite my repeated demonstrations and variously phrased edifications, she's not grasping the intellectual theory or functional process of five digits into their five little warm houses. And I can't get angry at her. She's two-and-a-half years old.

"Papa?"

And it's not her fault, she's from Orange Country. Which means she's got a two-year handicap before she understands how winter things work. The only way we can get these gloves on is if I remain calm.

"Papa."

But these goddamn gloves have such ridiculously small finger holes. It's like threading a fucking needle, if the thread only wanted to pick a nostril or point at the squirrel outside or get some more milk please. For god sakes I'll just get her stupid goddamn mittens that are too fucking small for her hands.

"Papa."

"What?" I bite off in a fraction of a syllable, as I look up at her face.

"You look beautiful," she says, eyes glittering.

"Th--"

The universe suctions all the air from my lungs.

Don't don't cry in front of your daughter. When you're in the car later, alone, then you can sob, like a real man.

"Thank you, sweetheart." I squeeze her hand. "Can you wiggle your fingers inside the glove, please?"

She does and all five fingers move right into their spots for the first time.

"That's excellent, sweets!" I tell her to make a fist, the true way of finding out if all fingers are in the right places. Sure enough, they are.

"Fist bump." That she knows how to do. I receive an appropriately delivered small pink wool fist bump.

The second glove slips on perfectly on the third try.

Meditations on Fatherhood and the Bruichladdich 12 year old Second Edition (2011)

As per the first sentence below, I did indeed write this post before Election Day. Sunday night to be precise. The intent was to post it on Wednesday, but when that day came I felt that a day of silence would be best. Though it may look as if I foresaw the election result, I did not. I was really just commenting on the general swamp of the long term American mood. Anyway, here's the post, on Thursday.

---

I write this post before Election Day, knowing it will be scheduled for The Day After Election Day. Perhaps it'll be my least read post ever because this is the last thing anyone's going to want to read this morning. Or maybe people will be flocking to non-election related news in order to take care of their own mental health. It's likely that the anxiety which preceded today will continue long past tomorrow.

Two floors above me, my two-year-old daughter sleeps quietly, or maybe with a little snore since she's under the weather. When she has a cold she requests hugs nonstop. My wife and I are happy to oblige, partly because my daughter is swooningly beautiful and partly because we know that once she's well again there will be fewer hug appeals. Watching her while she napped this afternoon, I thought about the world she'll grow up in. I knew that, between my parents' generation and my own, we'd leave her a garbage world. But I'd always thought it would be a broccoli-filled kitchen trash bag reality. Not a dumpster fire.

I love Mathilda and want to do everything I can to help her grow into being a strong confident woman. The first two and a half years of childhood have been tough for her and her parents, and I've heard the next year will be a challenge as well. My missteps have outnumbered my successes, but I have more time to get things right. All I want to do in this life is to get things right. Today, when discussing what video she and I were going to watch or what music we should listen to, Mathilda held up her index finger and said, "One thing at a time."

I'm crumbling just typing that.

So clearly what is important right now is this review of the second edition of Bruichladdich 12 year old. Bottled in the wake of the retirement of the first ten year old by The Reynier-McEwan Era of Bruichladdich, this 12yo contained only whisky distilled by the previous ownership, Whyte & Mackay (who had purchased Invergordon Distillers).

Two things of note about this whisky. The ten year old which it replaced was made from a mix of ex-bourbon and ex-sherry casks, while this 12 was from only bourbon casks. I assume the ownership realized they could put those sherry casks into more expensive bottles. Secondly, the distillery was mothballed from 1995 to 2001, except for a few weeks of peated production (by the Jura folks!) in 1998. That means there's a very good chance there's a considerable amount 17+ year old whisky in this 2011 bottling of the "12" year old. Must be one of the reasons they retired it by the end of that year.

In any case, I had no idea of either of any of these facts when I conducted my tasting. I will say this is a very good whisky, old content or no. Thank you to Jordan of Chemistry of the Cocktail who recommended this whisky when we did a sample swap.

Distillery: Bruichladdich

Ownership that released the whisky: Bruichladdich Distillery Co. Ltd.
Whisky distilled by: Whyte & Mackay

Region: Islay

Type: Single Malt Whisky
Age: at least 12 years old

Maturation: refill and first fill ex-bourbon casks

Bottled: May 2011

Alcohol by Volume: 46%

The nose lifts off with some bright candy notes, think Skittles and gummi bears. After a minute of air, those notes fade out, replaced by caramel sauce, butter, some milk chocolate, and definitely something peaty. Less than Springbank- or Ardmore-peaty, but it's there. There's also rubber cement, strawberry candy, Concord Grape Manischewitz, and some really nice toasty oak. A few drops of water bring out ripe autumn apples, vanilla bean, and hint of the old 10's florals.

Vanilla fudge, fruity tobacco and baking spices start off the palate. The sweetness remains mellow even as the palate gets very berried. I'm thinking tart blackberries and raspberry jam. Then limes, brown sugar and a hint of green tea. With a few drops of water it gets naked-er. Sweet, fruity, slightly tart, some funky maltiness. Never mind, here's some oak. But it's like a vanilla cookie to go with the berries.

Vanilla bean, bitter chocolate and tart berries in the finish. Small notes of barley and green tea too. With a few drops of water it develops a balance of barley and vanilla. Mild sweetness meets mild tartness.

Damn it if I'm not a decade late on discovering this one. I'd love to have this as a regular drinker. The blenders (McEwan included?) really nailed it. The palate and its berries(?!) hit all the right spots, with the sweetness staying in control, then the tartness and bitterness roll in late to complete the experience. The whisky is one of those increasingly rare examples that oak and spirit can coexist in peace. And the end result is we all win. Or at least those who get a chance to drink it. :(

I know I'm reducing my chance of chasing down a dusty of this now by posting this review, but there's no need for me to hoard the goodies. I wanted to share it with those of us who stand in the wreckage of former democracies. Don't go crazy, shilling out $100+ for this bottle. It ain't A or A- whisky, but it's a high B, maybe just on the cusp of a B+. Yes, I'm aware of the ridiculousness of the previous sentence. But if I find it for $50-$60...

Availability - maybe collecting dust on shelves somewhere, and at auctions
Pricing - ???
Rating - 87

Mathilda Malt Report: Ardbeg 30 year old Very Old (bottled 1997)

Though she's been two years old at heart for at least seven months, my little girl had her second birthday yesterday.  And that means......it's Old Whisky Week on Diving for Pearls!

(pic source)

Eighteen months ago, whisky enthusiast Cobo emailed me to see if I'd be interested in splitting a bottle of long defunct Ardbeg 30yo with his whisky club.  I said yes.  Cool story, bro.

My only previous experience with old pre-GlenMo Ardbeg was via older bottles of Ardbeg Ten.  But this whisky is not 10 years old.  In fact, it sat in an unopened bottle for almost two decades.  The distillate used was from 1967 or earlier, and was the product of the distillery's own malting floor.  So, it's actually pre-Allied and pre-Hiram Walker.

Thus I begin the Mathilda Malt Reports...

Thank you, Cobo, for this opportunity!
Also, that's supposeed to be cumin on the right.

Distillery: Ardbeg
Ownership: Ardbeg Distillery Ltd.
Region: Islay
Age: at least 30 years
Bottling year: 1997
Maturation: maybe refill ex-sherry and ex-bourbon casks???
Alcohol by Volume: 40%

Its color is dark gold.  The nose begins with a very clean defined medicinal note.  Then there's mesquite and a Peruvian spice rub.  Loads of cumin.  Its subtle peat reads similar to Kilkerran's, sort of twiggy and leafy.  A soft note of peach skin underneath.  After 30+ minutes in the glass, the whisky picks up small notes of old furniture and menthol, as well as (more prominently) glazed donuts, a peach tart, honey, and pineapple.  The palate begins very salty with a gradually building pepper and herbal bitter element.  That's well balanced by notes of pears and white grapes with whipped cream and Kit Kat bars.  Again, it's much subtler than today's Ardbeg, though there's a bite to it that builds with time.  30+ minutes later there's smoked shortbread, pie crust, and (not frosted) shredded wheat.  A little bit of refill sherry cask action shows up in the finish, with hints of dried stone fruits (apricots and cherries) and Oloroso.  Maybe a little of that pie crust.  There's a wee puff of smoke and soft aromatic peat, but that stays in the background while salt, pepper, and horseradish lead the way.

With its peat dialed back, this Ardbeg is so much more focused and graceful than anything distilled by the current ownership.  Yes, that is partially due to its advanced age and partially from (what I'm assuming are) refill casks.  But, take away the cask tinkering and the massive peating, then let the stuff sit for a generation and then maybe Bill Lumsden could get to this sort of whisky.  Though that doesn't seem to be of interest over there.

But my complaints about the current production are irrelevant to the quality of this 'Very Old' 30 year old.  It feels heavier than 40%abv and really does well with lots of air.  The nose, with its spices and fruit, is the star and its finish is even better than the palate.  With the fruit, salt, and mellow peating it feels more Highland and (other) Island than what we're currently experiencing from southern Islay.  I don't know if anyone is drinking this stuff anymore, but if you're reading this post and you have tried this whisky, please share your whisky thoughts in the comments below.

Availability - Auctions and black market
Pricing - $1300 to $2100
Rating - 91

Meditations on Stay-At-Home Fatherhood and also Glen Spey 21 year old 1989 (Diageo 2010 Special Release)

Today's four meditations:

Your child's excretory proclivities will be of boundless interest to you and your partner, but no one else.

---

Your arm muscles will adjust as your child gets heavier and heavier.  Soon her 25 pounds seem normal, while infants who weigh 15 pounds are almost dangerously feather light.  You begin to think, I'm getting so strong!  Then you go back to the gym to start lifting again and you discover, no you are actually not stronger.  You are weak.  You only have Dad Strength, a currency useless with everything else in life.  Meanwhile your back muscles are fucked.  Sorry dude.

---

You will now treasure every time you can go to the bathroom alone.  Sometimes, half the reason you go to the gym is to hand your daughter off to the child care brigade so that you can utilize the fitness club's dirty-ass latrine in semi-peace, serenaded by gray matter curdling pop-dance beats.  Otherwise, enjoy the challenges faced by your own excretory proclivities at home as your infant crawls between your ankles while you are upright or attempts to climb into your lap while you are in a state of focused repose.

---

FACT: Every time you are unable to stop your child's weeping 10% of your soul dies.  It exits the body through the sternum and vaporizes in the troposphere.  The good news is that, thanks to math, your soul will never be reduced to absolute zero.  Unless you run for public office.

---

Today's single malt:

This whisky has appeared on this blog before.  I reviewed a sample of it in April 2012.  It was referenced again in January 2013.  And then in May of this year, I mentioned it was the bottle I opened to celebrate Mathilda's first birthday.  It gets so many mentions because I enjoy it thoroughly, and also because I often repeat myself.

Part of this whisky's charm, and why it's probably difficult to compare it to other Glen Speys, is due to its creative maturation.  Back in 1988, someone at Diageo for some reason thought it would be a good idea to season 20 to 30 virgin American oak casks with sherry before filling them with newmake.  The mix of the new oak with the sherry and the fruity Speyside malt is a hell of a thing.  I'm not sure if anyone else has released something like it since.  Especially anyone named Diageo.

Distillery: Glen Spey
Owner: Diageo
Age: minimum 21 years (1989 - 2010)
Maturation: new American oak seasoned with sherry

Region: Speyside (Rothes)

Alcohol by Volume: 50.4%
Limited Release: 5844 bottles

NEAT
The color is a reddish gold.  The nose starts with rye and corn.  Or is that my nose interpreting the oak's influence as rye whiskey and bourbon whiskey?  Then there's lime peel, nutty sherry, and almonds in toffee.  There's a note that exists somewhere between cookie dough and Play-doh.  Then milk chocolate, pencil shavings, pipe tobacco, and roasted coffee beans.  Vanilla bean and incense.  Hints of honeydew.  The palate has a whole bunch of ripe fruits in sugar: think loquats, apricots, and tangerines.  Wood spice, like an oaky old rye.  Baklava with rose water syrup.  It gets more floral (definitely roses) with time.  Cigar tobacco.  A subtle bitterness appears, but I'm not sure if it's from the spirit or oak.  It finishes floral and sweet, citric and toasty (both grains and oak).  Vanilla, halvah, toffee, tangerine-ish citrus, and a hint of tropical fruits.  Some drying tannins.

WITH WATER (~43%abv? I don't know, I had a foot cramp mid-hydration and lost track of how much water I added but I never add water to this whisky anyway and run-on sentence.)
Lots of maple and vanilla in the nose.  Some tropical fruit, but also a bit of wood pulp.  The palate is very tannic, bitterer.  There's tart grapefruit, vanilla, some nuts, some pencils.  The finish is woody.

At times it's as if someone mixed a little old rye or high-rye bourbon into well aged Speyside.  Not only does it work, but damn this thing sings.  The oak, the sherry, the spirit all combine into something that's both pretty and muscular.  BUT, I concur with MAO, do not add water.  Neat only.

Also, this was released back when Diageo's annual special releases didn't cost as much as a mortgage.  In fact, this one went for $150ish in some areas -- I found it for $120ish in the UK -- but it still stayed on many retailer shelves for 3-4 years.  Considering how many lesser whiskies sell out much quicker while being more expensive and less limited, and considering how many great reviews this got (from MAO, Sku, Murray, and Serge), it took considerable effort for the hoard-happy whisky community to avoid cleaning this out years ago.  And I am thankful for it.

Availability - Still lingering around in a couple dozen specialty shops around the world

Pricing - $150-$250

Rating - 91 (neat only)

Mathilda Year One, complete

The first year of Mathilda is officially in the books.  Most days I feel as if I have aged three decades in that time.  The New Parent Adrenaline wore off at Month Three, but I drag my dad ass out to the gym anyway most weekdays.

Mathilda, the girl of a thousand faces, 999 of which are my favorite (the crying one being subtracted).  She is becoming a person very quickly and that fact becomes less terrifying every day.  That doesn't mean I'm turning into a better father.  This whole parent business is impossible.  I fail so often every single day, that in order to survive I've learned to just yield to the whirling forward momentum.  Mathilda agrees to nothing, gives no quarter, every emotion a thunderclap.  Just my luck, a Kravitz.  But she loves with an intensity no rational adult could muster.  She makes me laugh every day.  I never laughed every day before.  I marvel at her curiosity, her appetite, her delights, her physical strength (if she lifted the couch to reach a blueberry underneath, I wouldn't be surprised).

No, there is no way I can do this experience justice via whisky reviews.  But Diving For Pearls turned into a whisky blog years ago, so there shall be whisky.  Before the possibility of Mathilda entered this reality, I earmarked a bottle for my child's first birthday.  A whisky I had once tried and loved.

Or, with a Mathilda filter:

While I won't be reviewing the Glen Spey this week (mmmm, you got your rye in my single malt!), I did haul out three special samples for this week.  No, these aren't Littlemills (as I did for her arrival last year), but they do all begin with the letter L.  No, they're not Lismore, because I love my daughter.  Nor Ladyburn, because that sounds like shaving accident in the shower.  Tune in tomorrow...

Meditations on Stay-At-Home Fatherhood and also Girvan 48 year old 1964 Nectar of the Daily Drams (Single Grain)

You will pick your baby's nose.  Write that down and accept it.  There are the nasal sprays and Boogie Wipes.  There are respirator bulbs and the nightmarish Snot Suckers.  But sometimes the wee snoot is just sitting right there on the edge of her nostril and nothing else can remove it like your thumb and forefinger.  And it's not that bad, really.  Unless you get the Iceberg Booger.  You think it's just a little nub and then you pluck it and it turns out to be a half-foot-long succubus, as if her right nostril is goddamned clown car, and you shove the snot in a tissue and you almost throw up on her bedroom carpet.  Other than that, you'll be fine.

---

During the first three months of Mathilda's life, I probably tripled my drinking.  At least I wasn't sleeping either.  Or eating consistently.  My memories of the first three months have either blown themselves up or are desperately trying to.  I'm glad that nature assumes parents will responsibly maintain a helpless pupa while they can barely keep themselves alive.  There's nothing like seeing the clock read 2:30pm and realize that you haven't eaten or hydrated during the 10 hours you've been awake and then walking to Domino's for bacon & jalapeño cheesy bread and then washing that "food" down with a highball of whatever.

---

At some point Mathilda started sleeping really well.  And that was the point that I realized I needed to return to the one-drink-a-day life (while staying in four-desserts-a-day mode for the next seventeen years).  When I got to that awareness level my preferences changed drastically.  At the end of a full day of battling (er, safely raising) my ever-calm child, when I finally sit down to have a drink, I no longer have any interest in so-so whisk(e)y.  Not even kinda-good whisk(e)y.  Children teach parents new unknown levels of exhaustion and in the quiet after the onslaught this parent only wants to drink something excellent.  Something so good that I exclaim, "Man, that is f---ing great!" loud enough to wake my child that just took over an hour to put to bed.  And I've had a lot of *shrug* whisk(e)y recently.  I've dumped more whisk(e)y down the drain than ever before.  Whisky, astonish me.

---

Okay, maybe those expectations are unreasonable with this whisky as it is a single grain.  Even if it is a forty-eight year old single grain.  I was trying to count up how many single grain whiskies I've had, but they've been so forgettable that I don't really know.  There was a single cask Greenore, from Ireland, that was kinda fun.  A couple of North Britishes that were palatable.  Compass Box's Hedonism (a vatting, admittedly) smells very nice.  But I think I've had 15-20 others that weren't far removed from a watery mix of Malibu Rum and blended American whiskey.  I'll settle for:  Single Grain Whisky, be somewhat memorable for positive reasons.

Distillery: Girvan
Ownership: William Grant & Sons, Ltd.
Bottler: Daily Dram
Series: The Nectar
Age: 48 years (1964-2012)
Maturation: probably an American oak cask
Region: Lowlands
Type: Single Grain
Alcohol by Volume: 49.3%
Chillfiltered? No
Caramel Colorant? No

Don't worry nervous people, no whisky was harmed in the filming of this event.

The whisky has a brass color, a little lighter than I expected from something that spent almost a half century in a barrel.  The nose starts off with roasted corn, furniture polish, tree bark, and clover honey.  Then it takes on notes that flit between blooming violets and lilac-scented hand cream.  Soon some grape candy joins the party, followed by pine needles.  It grows more candied with time, and picks up some mustiness along the way.  After a good 45 minutes in the glass, there's also some hazelnut liqueur, toffee, pencil shavings, curry powder, roasted grains, and lots of sugar.  It's happily light on the vanilla and devoid of coconut.  The palate has quite a kick for such an oldie.  A real sweetie with lots of wood spice (thinkin' cinnamon syrup and green peppercorns), whipped cream, and caramel sauce.  And then there's all the tannins and wood pulp.  After 45 minutes not a hint of coconut (yay!).  Again, light on the vanilla with some roasted almonds thrown in.  It's mostly oak though very tolerable.  The finish is sugary and toasty.  Those almonds now float in toffee.  Crème fraîche and agave nectar.  Some woody bitterness appears but somehow remains palatable.

Color me almost astonished:  A single grain that I (gasp!) like.  Yes, it did take 48 years to blossom and did cost at least €300 -- though, €300 is not an unreasonable price for a 48-year-old whisky in this market.  It's also enormously oaky, which should not be a surprise at its age, so that's a warning for those who'd rather avoid this sort of thing.  But the oak has allowed some grainy stuff to live on and merge with the tannins and spice.

What it's missing is the artificial-coconut-flavoring note (hence the Malibu rum comment above) that I've found in almost every single grain I've tried.  That note is a dealbreaker for my palate.  The moment I find it, I just don't want to drink anymore.  This Girvan had not even a hint of it.  Could that be attributed to a good cask?

Overall, the nose is the best part, just loaded with decades of oddities courtesy of chemistry.  The palate cannot be accused of complexity, but is very pleasant for those with high oak tolerance.  Meanwhile, the finish is a little on the short side and quite sweet, but never really disappointing.  While I don't think this can compete with great single malts, it would be a good alternative to middling blends and bourbons.  And that's the nicest thing I've ever said about a single grain.

Availability - Possibly a few European specialty retailers

Pricing - €300-€350 w/VAT

Rating - 86

Meditations on Stay-At-Home Fatherhood and also Tomintoul 42 year old 1969 Archives

Back in the '80s and early '90s, my father went on business trips to other states.  Starting around the time I was six years old, he used to sit me down in his home office the night before the trip and tell me that if anything happened to him he wanted me to know that he loved me very much.  These talks would result in me crying uncontrollably, knowing that my dad (who always expresses his love freely on normal days) would die someday and it would definitely be on one of these trips which consisted entirely of him talking to retirees about their annuities and mutual funds.  This talk would come twice a year, every year, and would result in my sobbing every time.  That is, until I was a teenager and began to wonder what the f*** is wrong my father?

Now I am a father and, though science has yet to figure out what hell is going on with the Kravitz Y chromosome, I can begin to understand what he was trying to do.  As a dad, I want my daughter to feel safe, secure, comfortable, and loved at all times.  So I do everything I can to create that environment.  But she's 10 months old and doesn't understand the words I speak.  She recognizes tone and familiar sounds, but the rest of the linguistics are lost.  (To be fair, I don't understand what she says either.)  So, while I'm providing food, formula, and hugs, whatever I am saying to her I am saying for myself.  Eventually she will understand my words, but even then a lot of what I say will also be addressing a subconscious need to feel like a successful loving parent.  I think that a lot of what we do as parents for pre-language children we do also for ourselves.  "I may have made her bottle too hot, waited too long to change her diaper, gotten too frustrated when she wouldn't nap on schedule, dropped too many F-bombs in front of her while we were stuck in traffic, but as long as I sing her the ABCs, direct one-acts between the panda bear and the pink mutant butterfly, hold her when she's upset, and tell her that I love her every day then at least I'm a better father than Adrian Peterson."

My dad, who is very much alive, may have thought he was giving the grim I-love-you speech for my sake but he was likely doing it for himself as well, probably soothing a guilt for being away from his children and one-upping his own father's failings.  Meanwhile, in the process he greatly influenced my constant awareness of my own mortality.  Another instance of doing things with the best loving intent, but not achieving the ends sought.  Is that just fatherhood?  Or is that something we can moderate?  I can't wait to hear from a teenage Mathilda about how my best efforts (let alone my worst ones) warped her brain.  I should probably stop making tugboat horn nosies every time she farts.

---

On the flip side, I would redirect Jupiter's orbit if it drew out her laughter.  Is that for me?  Is it for her?  Does such a diaphanous instant require assigned ownership once it is released into the universe?  I really don't care.

---

Regarding language, I'm pretty sure she does comprehend "No" and "Stop".  Those words clearly mean, "Cry at top of your lungs and swing your limbs violently."  But at least she pauses in her latest act of self-destruction when the protest starts.

---

I think she's going to be teething for the rest of her life.  God help us.

---

I'm going to pour myself a drink.

Distillery: Tomintoul
Ownership: Angus Dundee
Bottler: Archives (Whiskybase)
Age: 42 years (June 1969 - March 2012)
Maturation: ex-bourbon cask
Cask #s: 4266
Bottles: 60
Region: Speyside
Alcohol by Volume: 42.4%
Chillfiltered? No
Caramel Colorant? No

Its color is dark gold.  The nose opens with a big beautiful high-rye bourbon note, followed by milk chocolate and mocha.  Then papaya, tobacco snuff, Dr. Brown's black cherry soda, and the corners of an empty old bookcase.  My left nostril finds loquats.  The right one picks up caramel-layered fudge and furniture polish.  With time, the whisky's nose gets very creamy and sugary, developing a slight split timber note.  Though the palate is very gentle it has a refined toffee→orange peel→pipe tobacco→mint→peach nectar progression.  There are moments of rosewater syrup and black pepper.  A bit of almost rancio-like mustiness.  A mild bitter note pulses throughout.  Gradually it all moves towards basil candy and (lots of) dark chocolate.  Plenty of chocolate malt in the finish, along with clementines and toffee.  A hint of wood cinders.  Maybe some cherry cordials and tart lemons.  It's all subtle, but long lasting.

Wow.  I'll list the caveats up front, I guess.  Firstly, I've found that most ultra-aged whiskies can hang out in the glass for a couple of hours without falling apart.  This one needs to be finished before the first hour is up because it fades immediately after that.  Result of the low abv?  Secondly, if you don't like bourbon then this probably wouldn't be your kind of whisky.  The old old oak is unsurprisingly unshy and for a moment the nose is just a kickass spicy bourbon.  It returns to Scotland immediately after that, but still the cask remained vibrant after more than four decades.

But that's it for the qualifiers.  I loved this stuff.  The nose is the star, but the palate progresses in a lovely fashion.  Even though I have limited experience with 40+ year old single malts, I do know that not all of them perform like this one.  So, chasing after ancient stuff and paying premiums won't necessarily land you a winner.  But the Whiskybase fellas did select another gem here.  And to think this was priced at a level now topped by many whiskies half its age in the current market... I sampled this three years too late.

(For other opinions see: Serge, Mark Dermul, Ruben, Macdeffe (and Todd in the comments), and whiskybase.)

Availability - All gone

Pricing - was €160 w/VAT (€132 without)

Rating - 92