Single Malt Report: Glenmorangie 10 year old "The Original"

The Glenmorangie Taste Off starts at the beginning.  The Original.  The 10 year.

The 10 year old was likely the first, or one of the first, single malts that Glenmorangie released.  Charlie McLean mentions in his Scotch Whisky: A Liquid History and Whiskypedia books that Glenmorangie had very small single malt releases in the late 1970s and didn't even advertise them until 1981.  One of the Malt Maniacs has rated a cream-labeled bottle from some time near 1975, while several other MMs have sampled a bottle from 1982.  Both of these bottles were 10-years.  So perhaps, a 10-year release was "the original" bottling.

The packaging itself has changed, going from a classic flat-sided vessel and rustic inscription to a unique curvy bottle with a more expensive-looking modern label.

FROM THIS:

TO THIS:

That's Louis Vuitton Moet-Hennessy at work.  In theory the whisky stays the same but everything else  changes around it.  And that's a damn sexy bottle.

But I really like the old two-color plain-printed label in a regular ol' booze container.  But I'm old timey like that.

Did the whisky change?  A lot of the great whisky writers have said so.  Until I get my hands on the old stuff, all I can go is by memory of the less-old whisky.  Some time around 2005-2006, during the final days before the aesthetic makeover, I polished off a bottle of the 10-year.  Next to its fancy-finished cousins, it struck me as a bit plain, something I wouldn't mind splashing onto ice during a hot summer but that was about it.  So I didn't go back for a second bottle.

Since some theories say that our bodies go through a full cellular regeneration every seven years or so, then, yes, I have changed.  And even if that theory is crap, my experiences have changed my thought process, values, and tastes during that time.  So let's drink it again.

GLENMORANGIE 10-YEAR-OLD "THE ORIGINAL"

Distillery: Glenmorangie
Ownership: Louis Vuitton Moet-Hennessy (accents and umlauts not included)
Age: minimum 10 years
Maturation: first- and second-fill ex-Bourbon American oak casks
Region: Highlands (Northern)
Alcohol by Volume: 43%

First, neatly --
Color-wise, it's where pale amber meets chardonnay.  My crummy phone pic to the left, almost does it justice.  The nose starts with cocoa for a split second then opens up into orange zest and tangerine oil.  Lots of it!  Then angel food cake and a touch of pine.  It grows more pungent with time.  The palate holds schooners full of vanilla.  Sweet lemon, tiramisu custard, golden raisins rolled in brown sugar.  It finishes with vanilla, vanilla, vanilla.  Then some pear juice, white frosting, and granulated sugar.

Yum.  That worked.

Then, with water (approx. 32.25% ABV) --
The nose shrinks a bit.  It's all Sunkist orange soda and vanilla extract.  The palate gets a little bready, a little vegetal.  But it's mostly malty and toffee sweet.  It finishes with a watered-down rum note, some nondescript citrus, and quite a bit of the toffee.

It mostly held together with the water, but the neat serving was where it's at.  I was genuinely shocked by how enjoyable it was.  It's a full step more enjoyable and noteworthy than most other beginner malts.

It's very light, so it would make for excellent spring and summer drinkin', even when neat.  I recently read that it can even be added to champagne to make a cocktail.  How one enjoys one's whisky is up to him or her, but, personally, if I mix anything with champagne, I end up pissing my pants and molesting the freezer before the night is over.  Or so I've been told.

So what I'm saying is, I found Glenmorangie 10yr to be a good value and an excellent Highland starter whisky.

Availability - Most liquor stores
Pricing - $27-$38
Rating - 87

The Glenmorangie Taste Off: An Introduction

The Nina, The Pinta, and The Santa Maria
(and a surprise malt)

To begin with...

This was the largest home Taste Off I have done (up to this point).  I normally do two or three whiskies per 'Off; this allows me to compare and contrast with sensory clarity.

Bringing a fourth whisky into a Taste Off required some rules.  Firstly, I would only be consuming 25mL of each of the three minis.  The good news, less booze blur.  The bad news, less to test, so my senses would be allowed little room for failure.  The good news, I'd have some left over to enjoy sans-analysis on another night.

So, 25mL of whiskies 1 through 3, and all of the 30mL (actually 28mL) of whisky #4.  I allowed two hours for the full experience.  I had a stack of John Lee Hooker records on hand for the soundtrack.

Glenmorangie and I

In my whisky youth, after the Glenlivets and Glenfiddichs and Macallans and blends, there was Glenmorangie.  The 10 year old and the earlier version of the Sherry Wood Finish to be specific.

It was the step before Oban and Talisker and anything peated.  I remember spending many lunch breaks standing in front of the Montgomery County Liquor store whisky shelves, ogling the Sherry, Port, Madeira, and Burgundy Finishes.  I always wanted to get the Burgundy one (the hardest one to find), but never had the courage to just get it.

I have plenty of fond memories of the Sherry Wood Finish and I am certain that its current iteration, the Lasanta, isn't the same whisky.  Either that, or memories have been candy coated.

The Distillery

I want to be within this picture. (pic source)

Originally the site, standing on a Morangie farm, was used as a brewery.  In 1843, William Matheson (also co-owner of Balblair and relative of the Dalmore founder) bought a pair of tall skinny former gin pot stills, as well as a distiller's license, and set out to make some spirits on the site.  By 1887, funding and support had grown to the point that a full rebuild was done on the distillery and the Glenmorangie Distillery Company Limited was founded.  The company was sold to Macdonald & Muir and Durham & Company in 1918; about 20 years later Macdonald & Muir (M&M) became 100% owners.  In the late '70s a Glenmorangie single malt hit the markets.  In the early '90s they began tinkering with wine cask finishes.  In 1996, Glenmorangie Public Limited Company was formed.  In 1997 Glenmorangie PLC bought the Ardbeg distillery.  Seven years later, Louis Vutton Moet-Hennessey (LVMH) purchased the entire company.

Upon this big acquisition, LVMH set out to transform Glenmorangie into more of a luxury brand.  In 2007, all of the old bottles with their rustic labeling were pulled from the shelves to be replaced new slender bottles, contemporary labels and packaging, and all new cosmopolitan sounding names.  Sherry Wood Finish because Lasanta.  Port Wood Finish became Quinta Ruban.  "Private Edition" limited releases began rolling out every year, and rare old bottlings started hitting the market.

Luckily for LVHM, they had two whisky geniuses creating the products: Bill Lumsden and Rachel Barrie.  A company can make the packaging lovely, but the product within needs to excel as well.  And many of them do.

As far as sales go, Glenmorangie has been the best (or one of the best) selling single malts in Scotland for the last 25 years, and were fifth in the world (as of 2010).  The strength of that revenue is due to their classic 10-year bottling (now called 'The Original').

The Original, nude of fancy finishes, shows off the light citric spirit created by the extra-long 17-foot stills.  I'll go out on a limb here and say that The Original sells well not because of lovely packaging, but because it's an easy-drinking whisky suitable for all climates and has consistently been priced well.

My Taste Off included The Original, along with Lasanta, Quinta Ruban, and one of their Private Editions.  I'll cover two this week, then two next week (ending with the mystery malt) and talk about some conclusions.

Fail...er...Adventures in Home Blending, Part 3

They're baaaa-aaaaaack.

Actually, I couldn't bring myself to finish either of the minis, so I bottled an equal remained amount of each: 0.5oz and 0.5oz.

I called it:

SPEY SPEY

As you can tell, I put about as much imagination into that name as The Speyside Distillery put into their own.

To counter any zingers about The Speyside I always mention the great indie bottler, Scott's Selection,  their company owns.  Their distributor has an AWESOME rep, Monique Huston, who is whisky brilliant and also awesome.  Much of The Speyside malt goes into their McGavin's blends, of which I recommend the peated Highland blend over the non-peated Speyside blend.

As for Speyburn?  I divulged all I know in last week's post.

So let's get back to this glamo(u)rous home vatted malt.  It was one ounce-worth in total, weighing in at 43% ABV.  It spent 11 days intermingling.  Let's see how it turned out.

October 25, 2012
NEAT:
Color -- Apple juice
Nose -- Vodka and farts. Then vodka farts (there's a subtle difference). Corn chips, ripe apples, nail polish remover, The Turps, barley grains.
Palate -- Not much going on; sweet cream, cheap cologne, some alcohol zip. There's a lightly floral moment. Not actual flowers though, more like bathroom spray (to cover up the vodka farts? No.).
Finish -- Moderate, sweeter, sugary breakfast cereal

W/WATER:
Nose -- Brussels sprouts, burnt grass, rotten eggs
Palate -- Quiet, alcohol, floral bathroom spray remains, late sweetness, creamy, reminiscent of a mild blend.
Finish -- More floral bathroom spray, lightly sweet

Though perhaps not as bad as the notes read, this blend should not be repeated.

Now let us never speak of this again.

Fail...er...Adventures in Home Blending, Part 2

I am blessed.  I have a great home.  I have a brilliant lovely partner.  I can still be moved by art and poetry.  I am ambulatory and conscious.  My five senses still work when required.  My vital signs and general health metrics meet or better acceptable levels.  And I live in a time and place where (and when) I can type these words which appear instantly on a glowing screen, then click a "Publish" button which instantly releases them into a universe where people I've never met can find and read them at their leisure on their own glowing screens.

I complain a lot in my daily life, but that's mostly due to laziness.  It's easier to allow the many (mostly minute) inconveniences to direct one's focus away from the more profound gifts.  It's a considerable challenge to climb above the distractions to see the good clearly.

So, I'd like to say right now: I am so lucky.  So lucky to not have to choose between Duggan's Dew and Clan Macgregor as a nightcap.  Instead, an almost infinite number of decisions and opportunities have brought a number of enjoyable whiskies into reality, then into my whisky closet.

Most recently, bottles of Old Pulteney 12 and Kilchoman Machir Bay found their way here, both through unusual chance -- a friend wanted to sell one and a shop had mis-priced the other.  They were good bottles.  Were.  They are both now empty.  But not before I merged the two into...


KILL PULTENEY BAY

3 parts Old Pulteney 12
1 part Kilchoman Machir Bay
16 days married in the dark.  An ABV of 43.75%.

I did my best to better obey the two blending rules that I listed yesterday.  Little goes a long way with peated whiskys and leave the blend some time to mingle.  I was actually going to give it a week, but other fine things kept me occupied.

Let's see what happened.

October 22, 2012
NEAT:
Color -- Medium amber
Nose -- Nice oak, vanilla & cookie dough, maybe some distant sherry, berries, notebook paper, mild peat, toffee, angel food cake, and butterscotch.
Palate -- The Kilchoman punched me in the mouth! Somehow feels even peatier this way. More vegetal than smoky.  Moss.  Some white fruits, like pears.
Finish -- More Kilchoman. Some more veggies. Vanilla. A little sour. Eventually some bitterness.

With time there were more baked goods on the nose, but also a considerable bitterness gained steam in the mouth.

WITH WATER (38% ABV)
Nose -- Maltier, less peat, almost a lightly peated Glenfiddich 12, ammonia
Palate -- Peat and Windex, more white fruity sweetness
Finish -- Bitter and sweet, a touch of peat, some sourness, getting very bitter

Shucks.  This thing can't swim, in water or oxygen.  All the promise of the nice nose and decent palate went angry and cruddy with time and water.

The sourness may be courtesy of a fruit-sour note often found in OP12.  The bitterness, I can't explain.  It's not there upon first pour.  Nor after 15 covered minutes.  But once air gets in, bitter compounds begin to bloom.  Adding water causes these fed-after-midnight gremlins to multiply, air and time does the rest.  It feels like dark shadow of sweet peat.

But let's get back to the positive things I've learned.  Kilchoman is a muscular kid, beating down the old Pulteney with ease.  The neat nose is great.  The experiment was fun and absolutely worth it.

We'll travel a different path with the next home blended malt...

Fail...er...Adventures in Home Blending, Part 1

Unless that whisky in your hand is a from a single cask, bottled at its actual cask strength, you're drinking a blend.

Blended Whisky -- A mix of many barrels of malt whisky from different distilleries with many more barrels of grain whisky, watered down to 40%-43% ABV.

Blended Malt -- A medley of single malts from multiple distilleries, usually watered down to a 40%-46% range.

Single Malts -- A blend of hundreds, sometimes thousands of different casks of malt whisky from a single distillery, then often mixed with a portion of local water.

High-strength single malts, like Glenlivet and Glenfarclas 105 --  Blends of numerous casks, kept at a high ABV, and sometimes even watered down a bit obtain the profile desired by the producer.

Though the term "blend" has had a negative connotation (courtesy of cheap low-quality brown stuff) in the whisky world, blending is not a bad thing.  In fact it's an art.  It can be alchemy, mixing multiple whiskies with completely different characteristics in order to achieve a single statement.  It's adding 4 + 3 and somehow getting 8.  Sometimes the results are modern delights like Ardbeg Uigedail or Balvenie Tun 1401.  Sometimes the results are more perfunctory, with blends like Johnnie Walker Red Label and Dewars White Label.

From David Stewart to Rachel Barrie, the Master Blender can be a distillery's most valuable asset, aside from the amber liquid itself.  They're the ones who figure out the recipe, the flavor, nose, texture, finish, the entire experience.

It wasn't until I listened to an extensive interview with John Glaser of Compass Box (courtesy of David Driscoll of K&L Wines), that I ever considered tinkering with my own blends.  Glaser had been making small blends for friends for years while working for Johnnie Walker's corporate office before he made the leap to start his own whisky company.  The man has since mastered the magic of blended malts (Flaming Heart, Peat Monster, Oak Cross, Spice Tree) and his every new release is a cause for excitement.

I took Glaser's words as encouragement.  So I gave blending a try.

I am no John Glaser.

ROUND 1: The Benbeg Sauternes

I owned two bottles of which I had very separate opinions.
1.  The Ardbeg Ten -- loved it; would take a stinky bath in it if I could; plus I had some whisky to spare in a mostly full bottle.
2.  Benriach 16yr Sauternes Finish -- was down to the end of the bottle; did not love the stuff; can understand some of the appeal of the wine finish, but it was far from being appealing to my palate.

I wondered, "What would a young Ardbeg taste like with a French wine finish?"  So I mixed up a tiny batch.

First rule of blending: A little bit of peat goes a loooooooooooooooooong way.

I did not know this at the time.  Now I know.

I mixed five parts Ardbeg Ten with three parts Benriach 16yr Sauternes Finish.  In hindsight, I probably should have rethought that ratio.

The mix, the home vatted malt, was married for a mere 48 hours in a little glass bottle.

Second rule of blending: Let your blend marry. Allow the new couple some time to get to know each other.

48 hours was probably not enough.  But I don't think time would have rescued this relationship.  Here are my notes:


March 12, 2012
NEAT:
Color -- Sauvignon Blanc
Nose -- Sweet, meaty, hammy.  Honey and baked bananas.  Mellows with time, but there's lots of ham.
Palate -- Peat wins this round. Some band-aids. Butter. Boston creme. Drying yet sweet.
Finish -- Long peat smoke only, very drying

W/WATER:
Nose -- Sauternes finish up front like a sickly sweet varnish
Palate -- Very creamy, brown sugar, Ardbeg peat, gets quite bitter
Finish -- Sweetens up, grainy, then more bitterness. A heavy NutraSweet aftertaste.

Actually, these notes are very polite.  For a more accurate measurement, here's the lone final comment from my notes:
"never again".

Neat, it was ham and peated Boston creme pie.
With water, peated bittersweet varnish that I couldn't scrub off my tongue.

Happily, I only used 50mL of whisky.  Unhappily, I drank the whole 50mL.  Later, I woke up in the middle of the night with the reek still on me.  Don't do this.  Don't repeat this blend.

Two questions then arose, what if I blended two malts I like?  And what if I blend two malts I don't?

Let's find out those answers this week.

Far away from the noise

6400 feet above sea level in the mountain forest of Idyllwild, Kristen and I have put a considerable distance between us and the troubles of the week. We are joined by our friends James and Jess, and maybe a beverage or two. The world is quiet up here.

Condo Makeover: Part 2

Having experienced a 16-hour work day on Wednesday that ended in considerable drama, I am pained to be unable to blog about my job.  Seriously, anything I say further would endanger my continued employment.

So let's get to some home makeover pics!

Part 2: The living room

Before: there was the bland sickly-flesh-colored paint, cruddy title by the fading fireplace, and a massive mirror surround the mantle.  And Billy bookcases!

Yes, this pic was not taken during Summer.

We ripped the mirror out of the wall, then patched up the mess with drywall mud.  Kristen repainted the reassembled mantle and then applied a couple of coats of black paint to the fireplace tile.

And we, together, painted the walls a sweet yet subtle peaceful blue-gray (Valspar's "Gravity").  But because we were both so hard at work (I'm a terrible painter) we have few pictures displaying the process.

Instead, here is what our guest bathroom looked like during the process.

My favorite bathroom ever:

View from the commode

I invented a cocktail in between:  The Anti-Gravity.  Explanation and video here.

The final result.

That's the living room.  Complete with all of Kristen's lovely decor touches.

It took a lot more work and time than the bedroom redo.  But the effort was worth it.  Our home is becoming ours, more and more.