The new place, and two 1993 Glendronachs

I exist in the new place. "Exist", not "am settled". How does one make one's house one's own? Everything here smells of the three dirty Frenchies (the dogs) that had previously run the place, but less so than it did last week. The whisky room is almost done in the basement, though I haven't yet decided how to decorate it, aside from bottles. I watched The Ninth Configuration and First Spaceship on Venus one night, far past my bedtime. And on Sunday night, I made scallops with cuttlefish ink pasta and sautéed spinach, and nailed it so much better than I should have that I must have borrowed the soul of Olivia Tiedemann for 30 minutes. Meanwhile I keep splitting logs awkwardly in the backyard until I can't see through the sweat in my eyes. Now I just need to assemble this IKEA couch, whose boxes watch me from across the room. I'm almost home.

Now it's time to try to get the whisky posts back on schedule. I will try my best, but no promises, life is crazy.

It's been 4.5 years since I last reviewed a Glendronach, so I've decided that now's a good time to open up these samples of two 1993 'Dronachs that were both distilled on March 19th of that year.

Glendronach 25 year old 1993, sherry butt #658 for The Whisky Barrel, 59.3%abv

NEAT

There are dusty books and old leather on the nose. Then carob, and a fruit cake loaded with figs and dried cherries. It offers a sense memory of what Macallan used to smell like 15 years ago. The palate is VERY hot. Dunnage, newspaper ink, sea salt, and a whiff of smoke wait beneath the heat. It gets sweeter, while picking up some oranges after 45 minutes. It finishes inky, salty, and sweet, with lingering notes of almond extract and dusty old oak.

DILUTED to ~46%abv, or 1¾ tsp of water per 30mL whisky

The nose has become fruitier, nuttier, more herbal, with plenty of kiwi, lychee, walnuts, and Brazil nuts. Dark chocolate, dark berries, and fresh tobacco fill the palate. It has a nice bitterness too, a little bit of ink, and grapefruit juice. Bitter citrus, dunnage, and dried cherries finish it off.

WORDS WORDS WORDS

Though Glendronach is/was practicing undisclosed re-racking, as per My Annoying Opinions excellent post from 10(!!) years ago, I don't think they did that with #658. The whisky reads as old or older than its age statement. No new oak, nor incongruous extra-wet cask notes here. The nose is excellent neat or diluted, though the palate works better for me when the ABV is reduced. Though this isn't my preferred single malt style, I can't deny that this cask was a gem.

Availability - Secondary market?
Pricing - ????
Rating - 90

Very dark stuff

Glendronach 24 year old 1993, sherry butt #652 for Abbey Whisky, 60.6%abv

NEAT

The nose begins with dunnage and very old wood, pulled pork and medjool dates. That's followed by dark chocolate, cherry juice, oak spice, and sage smoke. The palate is actually less hot than 658's. It's dusty, savory, and slightly tart. Smoky soy sauce and yesterday's cigar. Little bits of newspaper ink and berry sweetness. It finishes sweeter and tangier, while holding onto the dusty and savory notes. Plenty of old wood stays on the tongue.

DILUTED to ~46%abv, or 2 tsp of water per 30mL whisky

Orange peel, fruity cinnamon, and milkier chocolate arrive in the nose first, followed by almond extract, cherry juice, and watermelon candy. The palate gets leaner, with raw almonds and walnuts. Tart lemons at first then lemon candy later. The oak takes over in the finish, all bitter and dusty with a hint of sweetness.

WORDS WORDS WORDS

This one also feels as old or older than the label says, which doesn't happen much anymore. The smoky notes are fascinating and work very well, it's too bad the dilution washes them away. Harsh oak notes knock this one down a little, threatening to throw it all out of balance, and I found myself going back to cask 658 more frequently. But it's a Big whisky no matter what.

Availability - Secondary market?
Pricing - ????
Rating - 88

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.

I'm going to Indy's Whisky & Fine Spirits Expo, are you?

I'm serious.  Are you going?

I just moved to Westerville, Ohio, the birthplace of the Anti-Saloon League and currently under a draconian state control liquor system, thus I will be doing my whisk(e)y buying in other states (or countries) for the foreseeable future.  One neighboring state I have purchased in is Indiana.  (Yes, I drove from Kasich's state to Pence's state, such is the Midwest right now.)  And in The Hoosier State my preferred retailer is Vine & Table.  I've had the opportunity to chat with V&T's Manager & Spirits Buyer, Denis Lynch (an Irishman selling Scotch!), in person and via email.  Unlike certain retailers, his blog and public emails come across modest, straightforward, and low on the carnival barker meter.  One thing Denis does well each year is to rally the troops for his pet project, the annual Indy's Whisky & Fine Spirits Expo.  So far there are over 120 brands attending, a couple master classes, and a lot of catering.

This is my ride.

Yes, an event like this means a lot of ambassadors and reps, also with a few craft whiskey non-distilling distillers.  This sort of company makes some geeks' skin crawl due to very bad experiences with these pitchmen (and pitchwomen).  While I fully understand those feelings -- because I've had plenty of those run-ins myself -- I met a number of brand reps on the West Coast who did know what they were actually hawking and were happy to dish the dirt on or off the record, and I recognize they are often just trying to close a sale.  Having worked in the entertainment industry for half my life, I'm used to being surrounded by salespeople, specifically a breed filled with much sweatier desperation, fueled by too many uppers and not enough downers.  So to me, every rep at a whisky event is innocent until proven guilty (unless the brand itself has proven to be historically consistently guilty).

And here's the thing.  While drinking alone and bloviating about the results online provides me with great joy, writing 100 whisky reviews is nowhere near as fulfilling as meeting one Matt Wunderle or one Eric Burke or any one of you.  I had my crew and I knew the reps in Southern California.  But I'm new to this part of the country.  Meeting humans and sorting out how whisk(e)y works around here is my priority, and an event like this is perfect for that sort of thing.  Plus I might just end up with a new whiskey or two about which I can report back to you.

So if you're local-ish, let me know.  And if you're going to the Expo, please drop me a line.  No, I won't be working a table.  I'll be drinking and geeking.  I'll be the bespectacled dude with the homeless guy beard, dropping countless F-bombs when he's sober and declaring he's THE booth babe when he isn't.  I may share the occasional opinion as well and I'll try not spit when pronouncing it.

Birthday Booze: Rosebank 7 year old 1989 Signatory, cask 1739

It is done.  We closed on our new house!  As you read this we're (hopefully) moving all of our boxes and furniture into an actual permanent residence.  We've lived in temporary housing for two months.  And we're tired.  Really tired.  On a related note, we'll be without home internet for five days, so I might have to go to the *gasp* library to do any further posts.

And yes, I have also reached the end of my birthday boozes, and the end of my Signatory set of six minis, all of which were bottled in June/July of 1997.  I'm growing weary of the mediocrity of most of this set.  I mean, it's still batting .400 as of this typing, but those three outs never even made it out of the infield.  Baseball.  The Cleveland Americans are looking really good this year.  I've already jumped on their bandwagon and have securely fastened my seatbelt.  Man, I remember when Brook Jacoby played for Cleveland.  But I refuse to drink Cleveland Whiskey.  Whisky.  I'm reviewing a Rosebank today and I've been looking forward to this one ever since I bought the set.  I'm really hoping the group winds up going 50/50, and since it's old whisky wouldn't a free throw percentage be a more apt comparison?  Basketball.  This one guy plays basketball in Cleveland.  He often sports an ugly beard and a receding hairline like me.  We're so much alike.  I'm weary.  Fathers, they do get weary.

Distillery: Rosebank
Ownership: A cadre of buttholes
Independent Bottler: Signatory
Age: 7 years (October 4, 1989 - July 1997)
Maturation: probably a refill ex-bourbon cask
Cask#: 1739
Alcohol by Volume: 43%

NEAT
It's the color of sauvignon blanc.  The pretty pretty nose is malty with LOADS of lemons and a few limes and some cucumber water.  It's a little green and grassy.  Morning dew on a field of wildflowers (No, it's not going to be one of those reviews, probably).  Peach skin and orange blossom honey (that one's for Tom K., if he's reading).  The palate is soft, but bright, fresh, and lemony.  A mild dryness later gives way to a subtle sweetness.  Malt, chili oil, tangerines, and sweet limes.  The lightly sweet finish has lemons, peppercorns, as well as toasted and creamy notes.  The lemons remain for a long time.

Going to go gentle on the water.

WITH WATER (~40%abv)
The nose gets grassier, more herbal.  Maybe even a little phenolic.  Still plenty of lemons and honey.  Hints of dijon mustard and floral tea.  The palate is sweeter, going from a aperitif to a digestif.  Malt, lemon candy, and a green herbal grassy note that peeks out here and there.  It finishes with limoncello and chili powser.

COMMENTS:
Soft, pretty, herbal, and utterly lemony.  A little tenderness, if you'll allow.  This is without a doubt my favorite Rosebank (out of 4!) I've tried.  It can't be accused of complexity but it nails the simple style with grace.  And Kristen likes it too.  So it must be good.  I want recommend this whisky, especially to fans of dry white wine, but this stuff is loooooong gone.  Don't worry, I'll be easing my reviews back into relevance next week.  In the meantime, let's all have something nice to drink.  We're home.

Availability - ?
Pricing - ?
Rating - 87

Beginning a Whisky Buying Freeze and Ending the Dusty Hunt

Man, did you make it all the way through that What Was the Whisky Boom series?  "It's half as long as Das Kapital and only twice as funny."  Thank you for sticking through it and stopping by for more words.  Whisky reviews (and shorter posts) resume next week!

Every year I go on at least one whisky buying freeze, during which time I purchase nary a bottle of whisky.  Each time, I write up a list of rules and regulations then post it on the fridge.  The freeze lasts usually a month or so.  Last year's freeze was technically for 120 days, but there were so many asterisks (due to previous commitments) attached to that one that it wasn't too difficult.  Plus my daughter arrived right in the middle of it so my attention was just slightly diverted away from whisky.

Here he goes again with "The Freeze".

I engage in these buying freezes for a number of reasons:

1. Storage limits. In 2013, we bought a whisky cabinet. It was actually Kristen's idea. After measuring everything, told her with much confidence that I'd never fill it.  I filled it.  Quickly.  We have very limited closet space and the aforementioned baby, so I have no place to put my bottles other than in the cabinet.  Despite much rearranging, the cabinet is at maximum capacity.
2. Finances.  If you haven't noticed, whisky prices are higher than they used to be (another plug!).  With less money and more obligations, I have less to spend.  I'm a picky buyer, but I still buy more than I need.
3. There's not much out there that I find worth buying.  In 2014, I purchased a total of 3 recent (bottled in 2012-2014) officially bottled Scotches.  My preferences lead me to the indie companies and recently discontinued or revised single malts.  Those are the items that excite.  And as the rest of my fellow hoarders buy up those goodies, there are fewer left for me.  Oh well.
4. Happiness. Buying a bottle is a momentary pleasure.  Even if one stretches out the bottle research for months, like I do, once one obtains the bottle and stashes it away in the hoard, that glee is spent.  If life's stress and anxiety are playing havoc in one's blood, the search for the next bottle(s) begins again soon.  One can keep buying to keep the rush going but I believe that strikes closer to addiction than sustained happiness.  I have more than I need and I would like to enjoy what I have without having to have more.

If you have both the means and room, and you love the chase, then that's great!  Enjoy!  (Though please actually drink some of your stash.  You're not going to live forever.)  But when I'm short on those elements then it's time for a freeze.

This year, my purchase fast will last until at least April 1.  The only exception is the commitment I made to a friend (on this site actually) on the purchase of a bottle of rye.  Otherwise I'm still working out the regulations, ordinances, and bylaws of the freeze.  Usually they look something like this:

1.    The Buying Freeze begins at 00:00 January XX, 20XX.  It continues for XX days, ending at 23:59 on April XX, 20XX.

2.    No whisky of any sort will be purchased during this period. That includes Tier 1, Tier 2, and Tier 3 bottles.

3.    No samples or minis will be purchased.  No bottle splits allowed.

4.    Whisky trades are allowed.

5.    Whisky gifts are allowed from and to other people.  Examples are: etc. etc. etc.

6.    Social whisky events are allowed.

7.    The following are exceptions to the rules as they were commitments made before The Freeze began, and will be carried out during The Freeze: etc., etc., etc.

Punishment for violation includes reseting the freeze entirely and feeling like a sad sack of sh*t.  Anyway, if you're ever interested in doing a buying freeze, I highly recommend that you nail down the particulars before it starts.

Once the first of April arrives, I may choose to extend the freeze longer.  What I am suspending indefinitely is The Dusty Hunt.  Much of 2014 was spent on the hunt.  I found stuff.  I found awful stuff.  In California the good dusties have been picked over and over and over.  I'm getting sloppy sevenths, at best.

Though most of the dusty bottles I've opened have been crap, the disappointment has helped me see
more clearly that all whisk(e)y wasn't necessarily better in the old days.  I've had much better luck with bourbons since they usually stay nice and sweet, especially the National Distillers stuff.  I've found only two palatable Scotch blends (which I'll review this year).  There was a bottle of (tainted?) Teacher's from 1981 that was so bad that I started reading about stomach pumping immediately after swallowing.  That was such a heartbreaker because of my love for its main ingredient, Ardmore.  Damn thing had a perfect fill level and the liquor store had at least a dozen bottles.  Now I know why.  Good thing I bought only one.

Connecting this back to the buying freeze......Dusties are usually cheap and when ya find a bunch ya buy a bunch.  So then ya have a lot of bottles.  That leaves me (changing pronouns) with two problems: I've spent a chunk of money on a bunch of bottles I can't store.  $200 on 10 questionable dusties would have been better spent on a pair (or more, once upon a time) of excellent single malts that I actually want.  So the hunt is done.  But if I were to just happen to step into a store that had a dusty single malt at its original price?  I'll welcome that dilemma if ever arises.

I'm not usually one for New Year's resolutions, but those are my 2015 whisky resolutions.  Have you made any?  What motivated them?  Do you feel good about them or do you give them until, like, March until you crumble?

Single Malt Report: Brora 30 year old, 6th release

On Saturday, my daughter turned 0.5 years old.  And on Monday, my wife and I ended our dietary cleanse.  It was indeed time to celebrate and reflect and--

Yes, there was Brora last night.

My previous experiences with Brora were okay.  But "okay" was disappointing because I expected the sublime.  Peated Highland malt is probably my favorite sub-sub-sub category of scotch whisky.  And Brora's reputation (and pricing) are sky high.  But, again, "okay".  Meanwhile, its Diageo dead stablemate, Port Ellen has never let me down.  All four of the PEs I've tried were excellent.  The best Brora I had previous to last night was kinda good.  With my expectations lowered a full step, how would this one (my first Brora OB) fare?

Many many many thank yous to Eric S. for sharing this sample with me!

Distillery: Brora

Bottler: Official (Diageo), 6th Release

Age: 30 years (bottled in 2007)

Maturation: ex-bourbon and ex-sherry caks (per Whiskybase)
Limited Bottling: 2577 of 2958

Region: Highlands (Northern)

Alcohol by Volume: 55.7%

Its color is medium gold, slightly lighter than classic DiageoGold™ though possibly more legitimately gilded.  The nose leads with seaweed and band-aids held in very graceful American oak.  A nice farmyard element lingers throughout: manure, hay, and soil on denim.  There are also gentler notes of dandelions, sea air, rosewater syrup, and an apple/pineapple syrup.  With additional time in the glass, the whisky starts to develop some dusty book page notes.  The farm and fruit notes rise in intensity together.  The ABV is more apparent in the palate, though there's a very aromatic note, perhaps old peated malt merging with good oak.  The progression happens something like this: salty peat → mango & pineapple → umami → floral peat.  There are also notes of vanilla extract, broken rocks, rock salt, ink, and something industrial.  It's a sharp attack delivered with a creamy texture.  The finish has barnyard hay, seaweed, ink, and caramel sauce.  There's a big note of snuffed bonfire and a smaller bitter one.

Well, here's my first great Brora.  It beats the snot out of the Old Malt Cask and Connoisseur's Choice versions I'd had.  It's both bigger and subtler.  It's one to nose for an hour.  I'm clearly no Brora expert, but this whisky is what I imagine folks are referring to when they opine on classic Brora.

If I'm to pick nits amongst the whisky heights, then I'd say the nose is amazing, the palate very good, and the finish merely good.  I'm grading this the same as the 2011 edition of Laphroaig 25 CS, but I might take that Laphroaig over this Brora if the prices were the same, even through one could get two or three of the Islays for the price of this Highlander.  Nonetheless, this Brora is excellent.  If you can get your mitts on a sample or a pour, I recommend it.

Now, back to fatherhood...

Availability - European shops and auctions
Pricing - could originally be found for $300ish, now is over $1000
Rating - 92

Single Malt Report: Braeval 17 year old 1989 Cadenhead

With the first three days of The Cleanse complete, I am now a perfect being.  Everything I say is terribly interesting, my feet glide across the dancefloor like Gene Kelly's, and my s**t don't stink.  Oh what is this, a whisky review?  Ah, whisky my old crutch.  It's a good thing I wrote these notes before The Cleanse because I am through with you.  I can’t remember your face anymore, your mouth has changed, your eyes don’t look into mine--

Oh f**k, who am I kidding? Whisky dear, please be there to meet me when I return.  In the days between I will think on you fondly.  I’ll see you in the sky above, in the tall grass, in the ones I love--

Okay maybe I'm somewhere in the middle.  The one thing that stinks (other than, well never mind) is that the nights have cooled down and whisky weather is beginning to show......and I'm stuck enjoying it with a red quinoa salad and a glass of club soda.  I'm sure the temperatures will jump to 90 degrees once The Cleanse has ended.

Today's review is of a Braeval single malt.  Braeval, also known as Braes or Braes of Glenlivet, is another distillery that's a little foreign to me.  It's a youngin', built in 1973 by the Chivas folks who still use almost all of the malt for their blends.  In fact, I don't think they've ever released an official single malt bottling.  Thus the only way to try the Braes is via the few independent bottlers who are crafty enough to get a cask.  Cadenhead has released several and here is one of the more recent ones.

Distillery: Braeval
Bottler: Cadenhead (Authentic Collection)
Age: 17 years (1989 - February 2007)
Maturation: Sauternes Hogshead
Bottle: ??? of 276
Region: Speyside (Banffshire)
Alcohol by Volume: 55.9%
Chillfiltered? No
Caramel Colorant? No
Thank you to Cobo for the sample!!!

NEAT
It has a filtered apple juice coloring.  The nose introduces the whisky as a potential sweetie: sugary cream, overripe tropical fruit, and overripe bananas.  Also lots of charred oak and BIG vanilla.  Smaller notes of citronella candles, lemon curd, and dried apricots.  Very sweet citrus strikes first in the palate, followed by a blast of ethyl heat.  Then buttery caramel, mint candy, white peppercorns, and tobacco appear next, with an undercurrent of Campari-like bitterness.  More bitterness in the finish.  The peppercorns, mint, and tobacco carry through.  Then barrel char and smoked lemon peels.  Maybe some prunes too.

WITH WATER
On the nose there's vanilla.  And more vanilla.  Cream, caramel, and lots of sugar.  The fruits recede way into the background.  Maybe something floral remains.  Meanwhile the palate keeps the bitter note.  Some tart lemons and limes show up.  Though there's lots of sugar here too.  It finishes very candied.  There might be a raisin or two.  It's also slightly floral, vaguely citrusy, and a little bitter.

This whisky is almost entirely oak and wine, especially in the nose.  The refreshing bitterness in the palate occasionally salvages it for me, as do the tarter and peppery notes.  But most of the time it feels like a high abv liqueur which has only a passing resemblance to whisky.

There are some people who would love this stuff.  Folks who love Glenmorangie Nectar D'or and/or Jim McEwan's Sauternes finishing flights of fancy might be over the moon with this one.  But I can't be counted amongst that demographic.  Where is the whisky in this whisky?

Other opinions:

--Whiskybase members like this Braeval much better than I, judging by the ratings.
--One of the Malt Maniacs gave it a score of 50.

--Serge at whiskyfun finds more spirit to it than I did, but he also notes the gobs of oaky vanilla, butter, and caramel.

Availability - possibly all gone
Pricing - may have been around 65EUR
Rating - 75

Single Malt Report: Blair Athol 11 year old 1998 Signatory UCF (cask 2757)

This week I'm participating in a so-called dietary cleanse.  No dairy, no gluten, no processed sugar, and no alcohol.  Normally, I have no interest in cleanses.  People should consciously moderate their intake of toxins and troublesome dietary elements so that an abrupt purge isn't necessary.  But it's become obvious that moderation hasn't been one of my strong points since my stay-at-home-father gig began.

I've completed the first day of the cleanse and I haven't eaten the neighbors, yet.  Though my daughter got wise and hitched a ride to another state.  In classic fashion I did four whisky reviews in the thirty-six hours before the cleanse so that this blog would have some sort of content over the next two weeks.  The sacrifices...

Label information written by foot

Anyway, Blair Athol!  Blair Athol?  This the second Blair Athol review in this calendar year.  What the hell?  That's twice as many graded reviews as I've done of Bowmore in 2014.  If you missed my first exciting Blair Athol review, here's the link.  It was of a 25 year old single cask release by the independent Dutch bottler, Van Wees.  And it was very good (89 points worth).

I've had quite some luck with Van Wees.  I've also had a lot of luck with Signatory.  Signatory has a number of different ranges but the two most familiar ones are their Cask Strength and Unchillfiltered collections.  Today's Blair Athol is an 11 year old single hogshead from the Unchillfiltered Collection.  And it arrives courtesy of Florin (a prince).

Distillery: Blair Athol
Bottler: Signatory
Age: 11 years 1 month (4/8/98 - 5/8/09)
Maturation: Hogshead
Cask #: 2757
Bottle: 250 of 361
Region: Highlands (Central)
Alcohol by Volume: 46%
Chillfiltered? No
Caramel Colorant? No

The color is a very pale amber.  At first the nose is bready and yeasty with some butter, caramel, and pencil shavings.  But moments later it opens up into mango and grapefruit.  Then it expands further into lavender and violet (flowers, not soap).  Then some more patience brings fresh orange pulp and sea air.  The palate leads with grasses and dried leaves, followed by oranges and limes.  Caramel pudding, maybe some peppery spice and a candy cane.  It's effervescent but very delicate.  Its sweetness gradually expands.  The finish seems shortish at first but then comes back for a second round, boomerang-style.  Lots of citrus peels, lager, dried leaves, pepper, and cocoa powder.

This was much too fragile for water, almost as if it were 40%abv.  That being said, I like it a lot.  While the palate isn't terribly complex, it's very pleasant.  It's the nose that thrills.  It opens and opens and opens like a little blossom in the sun.  It's all pretty.  I'm considering tracking down a bottle, especially since my wife likes it.  She and scotch whisky are acquaintances but not pals, so this a rare thing.  Gives me an excuse to say, "Hey, I bought you a present!"

Availability - Scarce (US)
Pricing - $60-$70
Rating - 87

Single Malt Report: BenRiach Arumaticus Fumosus

You'll find me bitching and moaning about whisky finishes plenty of times on this blog, but I have yet to meet a rum-finished whisky that wasn't at least entertaining.  BenRiach Arumaticus Fumosus comes to the rum-finished arena from a different angle than others.  Firstly, it's peated.  This will be the first time I've tried a peated whisky finished in rum casks.  Secondly, BenRiach didn't utilize one-note sugary rum in those casks, instead they used an unspecified Jamaican rum.  Though my experience with Jamaican rum is limited, I highly recommend that folks with adventurous palates try a glass of Smith & Cross (neatly).  Smith & Cross is a bold estery beast, and I'm probably going need to review it some day.

Almost got the JJ Abrams lens flare on this one.

I obtained this BenRiach sample from Jordan from Chemistry of the Cocktail via a sample swap.  Jordan knows much more about rum than I do; his rum posts (especially this beginner's guide) are musts.  As per his recommendation, I got to know Smith & Cross a little bit before diving into Arumaticus Fumosus.

I've been looking forward to trying this whisky for some time.  I enjoy BenRiach's peated stuff, especially the 21 year old (whose review has made everyone think I'm Weedy McPotface), and have been very impressed with the cask work utilized for BenRiach and its mate GlenDronach (despite their occasional questionable label disclosure).  So, good peated malt meets quality casks......yes, please. 

Distillery: BenRiach
Ownership: The BenRiach Distillery Company

Age: minimum 12 years

Maturation: ex-bourbon casks for most of its life, then finished in Jamaican dark rum casks

Region: Speyside (Lossie)

Alcohol by Volume: 46%
Chillfiltered? No
Caramel Colored? No

NEAT

Its color is amber with very little in the way of oaky (or e150a) gold.  The nose has a definite blast of rum, but it's not the super-desserty version one will find in Balvenie Caribbean Cask, rather something with a bit of an herbal spicy bite to it.  It's well integrated, leading right to the malt and peat moss.  There are notes of a floral vanilla simple syrup, cotton candy, lemon peel, honey, molasses, wood smoke, and dry soil.  It alternates between earthy and pretty.  The palate is well-layered too.  Peat→molasses→honey→lychee and fresh cherries.  Very earthy (again) yet also sugared.  A smaller note of fresh oranges shows up occasionally.  Peat, pepper, and bitter notes begin to grow with some oxidation time.  Lots of smoke and sweets in the finish, think honeyed peat.  A hint of salty olives merges with some citrus.  The smoke grows with time.

---

I added a little bit of water, then took an intermission to hang out with my little critter......who immediately ate my notes (she has good taste, obviously)...

And then she came for the cell phone...

Luckily, my wife came to save me before all was lost to The Appetite.

---

Now back to the whisky.

WITH WATER (approx. 40%abv)
The farm takes over in the nose; very Ledaigy in fact.  The floral notes have been stripped away, leaving us with a fireplace in a candy shop.  There's a burst of dijon and honey mustard notes in the palate.  There's also some sugar, honey, and peat moss.  The smoke note is very delicate, and there might be a hint of ham in there too.  A pleasant dryness lingers into the finish.  It's much milder now, all on mustard and peat.

Having high expectations met has become a rarity for me recently, but this whisky was as good as I'd hoped.  Its palate even garnered a "Wow" from my mouth.  For me, there isn't a single misstep in the whole package.  I aim to track down a full bottle for myself and perhaps will later indulge in further hyperbole if warranted.

Tracking down a bottle can be more challenging than one might expect of a BenRiach.  While there was a Arumaticus Fumosus release in the US in 2007, it was very limited since the first batch of this experiment was limited to 290 6-bottle cases worldwide.  There appears to have been another batch or two in 2012 so that leaves me hoping that they continue producing this whisky.

Availability - Some European specialty retailers
Pricing - $65-$85 (minus VAT, including shipping)
Rating - 89

Further failures in bourbon blending......

(Yes, I'm aware that these aren't all bourbons, but I was looking for lazy alliteration.)

Two weeks ago, I shared with you the brief tale of my solid number two.  I made three whiskies out of Balcones True Blue Cask Strength corn whiskey and Rittenhouse Bottled-in-Bond straight rye.  Whiskey #1 and #3 had their strengths, but their weakness tilted them out of favor.  Whiskey #2, an ultra-high rye bourbon, was good enough to bottle 600mL worth.

On September 2nd, I took the last dribbles of the Balcones True Blue CS, the remainder of the Koval Dark Millet, and some of the Koval Dark Rye whiskey (each 100% one grain) and did two experimental blends.  The idea was to create a bourbon and a rye, but using the extra light millet grain whiskey rather than a malted barley whiskey as the third grain in each.

On the surface it sounds relatively harmless, but there were two issues floating above the experiments.  Firstly, these were all super young whiskies that displayed nearly no maturation characteristics.  Secondly, I didn't particularly care for the way any of them tasted on their own.  There were positives in their noses, but not in the palates.  With my previous whiskies, #1, #2, and #3, at least I had Rittenhouse BiB bringing a little bit of age and luscious flavor to the mix.

---

#4 - Goal: Design a 51%-corn bourbon.  Result: Due to adjustments I had to make to take into consideration the whiskies' alcohol strengths as well as the microscopic milliliter adjustments, I had to settle for a 52%-corn bourbon.  Curses!

Stats:
Approximate resulting mashbill: 52/24/24 (corn/rye/millet)
Approximate ABV: 47.4%
Quantity made: 30mL
Resting time: 22 days

Nose -- Turpentine, caramel, vodka, corn, apple-flavored candy.  Lightly smoky.  But that's before I air it out.  After giving it 20+ minutes in a covered glass something awful began to happen.  While it still smelled of caramel and sugar, a massive note of rotten fish began to emerge.  And it wouldn't go away.  Either it absorbed something weird from the air or I crossed the streams.
Palate -- Corn, apple juice, vodka, and paper. With the extra time in the glass it improved slightly, with some more sweetness and bitterness.  But it never reaches a drinkable quality.
Finish -- More paper.  Very drying.  With air it becomes chemically bitter.

Verdict:  Wow.  Bad.  I could not finish it.  Worse than the sum of its parts.

---

#5 - Goal: Design a rye with Rittenhouse's mashbill (37/51/12), substituting millet for barley.  Result: Due to the structural issues mentioned in #4's, I got pretty darn close

Stats:
Approximate resulting mashbill: 37.6/52.6/9.8 (corn/rye/millet)
Approximate ABV: 45.1%
Quantity made: 30mL
Resting time: 22 days

Nose -- Less ugly than #4.  A little bit of rye spice sneaks in.  Some flower blossoms.  Vanilla.  Vodka.  Lots of corn pushes past the other elements.  With 20+ minutes in the glass there isn't much change.  Might be a little more sugary.
Palate -- Lots of bitterness.  No sweetness whatsoever.  Corn, paper (again), bland vegetation.  Very light, almost like a Canadian blend.  With time no major flavors develop.  Sort of semi-bitter / semi-sweet.  Sort of drinkable.
Finish -- Paper, corn, imitation vanilla extract, some bitterness and caramel.  Nothing changes with time.

Verdict:  Better than #4, but I still wouldn't drink it if it were free.

---

Both of these blends were crappy, though on different levels.  Aside from the bizarre rotten note, what was most disappointing was the feeling that in both instances I was drinking paper-flavored vodka (attention: makers of Cupcake Vodka...).  For a moment I considered blending #4 and #5 together, but then I decided that the whole thing needed to end promptly because...

The main lesson I learned from this blending experience is to not expect to suddenly create something good from elements one doesn't like in the first place.  Quality ingredients are the key to great dishes and cocktails.  Having at least one decent whisk(e)y may also be required in a blend.  So it's likely that one won't be able to salvage a bad whiskey by adding another one to it and then another one.

This week we'll see if professional blenders did a better job than I with the young whiskies they had at hand.

Michael makes a solid number two

(alternate title: Adventures in Bourbon Blending!)

I was sitting on (figuratively) about about eight fluid ounces of Balcones True Blue Cask Strength, a high ABV all-corn whiskey which smelled nice but didn't taste like much.  With no desire to ever drink it again, I wondered if there was a drinkable bourbon to be made from it.  Perhaps applying some good rye would fix things.  I had plenty of Rittenhouse Bottled-In-Bond on hand, so I began to tinker.

Here are the three bourbons I blended:

#1 - 50% True Blue Cask Strength / 50% Rittenhouse BIB.

Stats:
Approximate resulting mashbill: 71/24/5 (corn/rye/malted barley)
Approximate ABV: 53.6%
Quantity made: 30mL
Resting time: 11 days

Nose -- Very nutty, specifically hazelnuts and almonds.  Then caramel sauce, halvah, Heath bar, sawdust, and maple syrup.
Palate -- Very hot and tannic.  It's nutty here too, maybe walnuts?  Something fibrous and grainy in there.  A little bitterness and very light on the sweets.
Finish -- Wood smoke and coffee

Verdict:  Smells yummy but tastes so-so.  Too hot and woody for me.  Have no interest to drink it again.

---

#2 - Goal: Design a high-rye (~35%) bourbon.  Result: Due to the two whiskies' mashbills it became an "ultra-high-rye" bourbon.

Stats:
Approximate resulting mashbill: 51/40/9
Approximate ABV: 51.4%
Quantity made: 30mL
Resting time: 18 days

Nose -- A bit hot at first, but it eases down with a little air.  At first sniffs there's corn meal, molasses, sugar & spice.  Then a lightly perfumed foundation powder, sawdust, caramel, vanilla, kettle corn, and mint.  And oh so much rye.  Rye candy!
Palate -- Bourbony cough medicine, salt, and pipe tobacco.  An orange peel note develops into tart cherries and blackberries.  Very tingly with a soft bitterness underneath.
Finish -- Cough medicine, salt, and an herbal r(h)um. Mellow tartness and a mild herbal bitterness.

Verdict:  It's almost all rye on the nose, while the palate is thick and rich.  It tastes very good.  I wanted more as soon as I finished my sample.

---

#3 - Goal: Design a high-corn (~79%) bourbon.  Result: Easily doable with with these whiskies.

Stats:
Approximate resulting mashbill: 79/17/4
Approximate ABV: 54.6%
Quantity made: 30mL
Resting time: 18 days

Nose -- Less hot than #2 (though the ABV is higher).  LOADS of caramel.  Saltwater taffy, butter, caramel apples by the ocean, maple candy, and raisins.
Palate -- Here it's much hotter, though quiet flavor-wise.  Corn stuff, but not sweet.  Some rye spices lift it up.  A hint of wood smoke.  Grows a little sweeter with time.
Finish -- Cigar mouth, sugar, some tartness.  Long, but mild in content.

Verdict:  The nose was good again, though the buttery element became weirdly strong.  Yet as vibrant as the nose showed itself to be, the palate went the opposite direction.  The corn and rye didn't merge and almost no secondary flavors appeared.

---

Without a doubt, my favorite was #2.  While all three blends smelled nice, #1 and #3 didn't taste great.  I enjoyed the second one so much that I sacrificed the rest of my Rittenhouse bottle to fix up 600mL of this solid number two.

After giving it two weeks in the bottle to marry, I just tried it again last night and it's still very lush.  Sometimes it tastes like a bourbon, sometimes like a rye.  It's almost too big for the 90+ degree September heat, so I'll probably use it to fix up mint juleps and sazeracs.  If I can remember to do it, I'll save a sample for a proper review when the weather cools off.

Next week, I'll post about bourbons #4 and #5, which I built from three American whiskies...

My Final Barrel Experiment, Part IV: Lessons learned

(Monday, Part 1, link)
(Tuesday, Part 2, link)
(Wednesday, Part 3, link)

Part 4 of 4

No matter how they resulted, all of my barrel experiments were fun.  There was a lot of joy in the anticipation each time, marking the calendar, weighing, nosing, drinking, guessing.  And I learned a number of things, the hard way:

• A spirit does not taste the same fresh out of the barrel as it does after resting in a bottle for a week (or more) afterwards.  That has been true for every spirit I aged in my barrel.  Knowing this would make me a little concerned if I was selecting single casks for paying customers.
• The Rye Storm was palatable when first bottled, but grew increasingly harsh and astringent in the matter of a couple of weeks. 
• The Eagle Morning continues to change; the oak and rye notes have grown much stronger over time.
• The Ron Matusalem rum that I'd used to season the barrel seemed to have changed little when I poured it back into the bottle, but less than a month later it was a sawdust-riddled sulphuric mess.  I've dumped a half bottle down the sink.
• The whisky blend's palate went from being so-so to almost undrinkable in a week.
• By suffocating the barrel and cutting off oxidation, maturation is severely altered. There's actual chemistry involved in aging spirits.  A shortcut is a guess and probably a bad idea.
• One of the major whisky companies really should do a rye-finished single malt.  But...
• Rye-finished single malts need very little time in the rye barrel because rye is STRONG stuff.  I wonder if rye-finishes have been tried and wound up unsuccessful.  Still...a brief finish in a Rittenhouse barrel shouldn't be too abusive.
• Malted rye spirit is probably not the best thing to age if you're new to at-home spirit maturation.  Its flavors are much different than the unmalted rye most of us are used to.  I would recommend aging a regular rye spirit (and with some corn in the mash bill) before trying something more experimental.
• My home is probably too warm to gracefully mature spirits.
• Milliliters are not the same as grams, no matter what the kitchen scale says.  Density matters.
• If you're doing spirit infusions, cinnamon sticks and orange peel are elements that require very little time in the liquor. I recommend tasting the infusion after four days, and then testing again each succeeding day.
• Also, per Alex in yesterday's comments, the cinnamon sticks we Americans see in stores tend to be cassia bark, rather than true Ceylon cinnamon. Cassia tends to be hotter and spicier, while ceylon cinnamon tends to be subtler, fruitier, and pricier!
• Infusions are an entertaining way to salvage crummy whisk(e)y.

These exercises have often been humbling, as I went into each with a just enough naïveté to mess with the results.  But even if I discount my inexperience, this little barrel was a mystery.  I never knew the char level nor the quality of the cooperage.  Now, if a business offered mini barrels with charring and oak options, I'd recommend it to those who want to do some spirt maturation at home.  But I don't think anyone is offering those options at the moment.  So it's difficult for me to wholeheartedly recommend buying a mini-barrel.

I don't foresee me getting a new barrel any time soon, either.  A 2-liter mystery barrel can cost $80-$100.  My three experiments cost $350-$400, not including the barrel (which had been wonderfully gifted to me).  The important result of those expenditures wasn't the weird brown fluids that emerged at the finish line.  What I really received was many months of anticipation, lots of blog content, and an education on how not to mature spirits.  That's been wonderful, but my next set of quirky ideas needs to be cheaper than $500.

Right now I'm much more interested in working on infusions and perfecting brandied fruits.  And I'm even more interested in drinking well made spirits fashioned by those who know what they're doing.  Again, my adventures aren't over.  They're just going to be a little different going forward.

My Final Barrel Experiment, Part III: The Firebird and The Heron

(Monday, Part 1, link)
(Tuesday, Part 2, link)

Part 3 of 4

Almost two liters of ruined Scotch whisky sat in bottles, awaiting demise.  I awoke one more morning during the week following my failure, still disappointed that my experiment had added up to a lot of bitter brown fluid.  Driving out to the gym, I decided I'd just dump the whisky down the kitchen sink when I got home.  While cranking through my hour of cardio at the gym, my mind drifted (as it often does) to things anti-exercise.  I was thinking of buying a super cheap bourbon and infusing it with a split vanilla bean for one week to try to create a vanilla-bomb dessert bourbon.

But then I realized, why buy a bourbon?  I had a load of unpleasant whisky at hand.  We already had vanilla beans here.  Then I remembered the Armangnac cherries I'd made (a whole other story) last year.  Those were a success.  In the 'gnac and sugar reduction, I had used a cinnamon stick and some whole cloves.  Then I started thinking about fruit......I seem to be finding lots of citrus peel notes in the whiskies I've been reviewing.  So I could throw in some orange peel scrapings too in order to bring that part out.

But those were a lot of ingredients to infuse, possibly resulting in a jumble of flavors.  So I could split the experiment up.  If I set aside 200mL of the whisky fail for historical purposes, I would be left with two 750mL bottles of a whisky base.  I had two never-used clean 375mL bottles, so I could take one of the 750s and split it in two in order to see if this would even work.  One infusion would be a simple half vanilla bean (scored lengthwise) and a whole cinnamon stick.  The other infusion would be the busy one, a half vanilla bean (scored lengthwise), a whole cinnamon stick, four whole cloves, and a little bit of orange peel.

The infusions started that day:

I read some online suggestions about infusion times, but most folks were infusing vodka and gin.  My whisky was much less neutral and I anticipated that it might need a little more of a boost.  So I gave the bottles one week.

And the results were intense.

Vanilla Bean and Cinnamon Stick infusion
Nose -- Cinnamon! Fresh zucchini bread. Vanilla cookies.
Palate -- Woo. Spicy. Not much malt, maybe some dark rum. Chocolate. Lots of candied ginger. Cinnamon overwhelms the vanilla. Crazy spice heat, yummy  <-- technical terminology

Vanilla Bean, Cinnamon Stick, Whole Cloves, and Orange Peel infusion
Nose -- Orange then cloves then cinnamon then vanilla. Bold and perfumy. Juicy Fruit gum.
Palate -- Less spice, more fruit that the other one.  Mostly orange and cinnamon.  Cloves hit in the finish.  Vanilla drifts around the edges.

That color you see in the jars there, that's not a lighting issue.  The infusions were dark red.  And their flavors were just as vivid.  And they were good.  Probably a bit strong.  If I could reduce the character, I wouldn't do so by one full step, instead maybe a half step.  I already knew what to do: Refill infusions.

I took the second 750mL bottle of whisky base and split it between the two bottles with the same used infusion elements.  This time, I gave the two "refill" infusions five days rather than seven.

Vanilla Bean and Cinnamon Stick infusion, part 2
Nose -- Cinnamon is still in first, but the vanilla is more present now than before. More rum and whisky notes. Curiously, some lime peel too.
Palate -- More whisky. And better whisky. Creamy texture. Cinnamon remains the strongest link. Less ginger, but now some mint. There's still a touch of bitterness from the oak.

Vanilla Bean, Cinnamon Stick, Whole Cloves, and Orange Peel infusion, part 2
Nose -- Same order as before: Orange-Cinnamon-Clove-Vanilla. Orange remains very strong. The cloves and cinnamon seem to have fused into a single note. Something about this feels more like rum than whisky.
Palate -- Mostly orange and cinnamon. A little whisky in the mix. That hint of bitterness in the finish, as with the other one. But it's still pleasant overall. Less aromatic in the mouth than in the nose. Hints of malt make it more like whisky than rum.

Yep, still a little bit of whisky in there, yet also loads of infusion character.

Having mixed a little of the opposing infusions together, I realized that sort of blending added nothing to either.  They would stand on their own.  So, I combined like with like in the 750mL bottles.

---

courtesy of Kristen

The Vanilla Bean & Cinnamon Stick infused blended whisky is named The Firebird, after the mythical bird of rebirth which goes by many names in different European cultures and is also referenced (as "Chol") in the Book of Genesis and the Book of Job.  There is a well-known cinnamon-flavored-whiskey in the market at the moment with a name similar to The Firebird.  Let's just say that my version is a more graceful and layered, yet no less fully flavored, rendition of that popular flavored-whiskey's approach.

How about some official tasting notes, after two weeks in the bottle:
Color -- Cherry red
Nose -- Not just cinnamon (though there's plenty of that), but loads of carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.  Hints of vanilla and honeyed Speyside-style whisky.
Palate -- Spicy but never too sweet.  A little bit of green herbs and grass clippings.  Cinnamon and pepper largely keep the oak at bay.
Finish -- A soft bitterness mingles with cinnamon and vanilla.

---

courtesy of Kristen

The Vanilla Bean & Cinnamon Stick & Whole Clove & Orange Peel infused blended whisky is named The Heron, after Bennu the Egyptian deity associated with rebirth.  The Heron is unmistakably related to The Firebird, but keeps busy with more spice box elements and a burst of orange oil.

Official tasting notes:
Color -- Crimson mahogany
Nose -- Intense orange peel meets a clove-cinnamon fusion. Maybe a sprinkle of ground nutmeg. Juicy Fruit gum. And maybe maybe a hint of peat smoke.
Palate -- Starts big on the orange peel, shifts to vanilla, then explodes with clove, as cinnamon gumdrops linger behind.  It gives the impression that its going to be sugary but never gets too candied.  A moment of oak is carried away by the cinnamon.
Finish -- A cinnamon stick floating in a floral tea.

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THANK YOU to my beautiful wife, Kristen, for creating those two labels.  They're better than my whisky infusions!  As a result, she has been promoted to Chief Operating Officer of D4P Distillers.

---

My infusions could be utilized as whiskies for people who are afraid of whisky; those folks who run to heavily-flavored artificially-sweetened watered-down versions of sorta-whisky so they can do some shots.  But The Firebird and The Heron should be sipped (even though they bring with them a higher ABV) and I think they would be more appealing to whisky fans than most flavored-whiskies on the market.  My infusions will still freshen your breath and get you tipsy if that's what you want, but there's much more to them to appreciate.

The Firebird and The Heron are far from what was planned.  But as the plans crumbled, I embraced improvisation and was rewarded with madness in a bottle.  Two bottles.

Tomorrow, I'll finish this series with a few more pics and some lessons learned.

My Final Barrel Experiment, Part II: The Maturation, The Numbers, The Result

(Monday, Part 1, link)

Part 2 of 4

I had the best greedy intentions.  By wrapping the barrel tightly, I wasn't gradually spilling my whisky into the air.  But I really didn't know how this would affect the actual maturation of the whisky inside.  Since there was less being lost, I hoped that would mean the aging process would be more gradual.  Small barrels, especially very small barrels, age whisky differently than large ones.  They can often result in a product that is somehow both much too young and much too oaky, a problem experienced by some American craft whiskey makers and even some Scotch producers who are trying to speed up the maturation process.  If I wrapped mine, then maybe things would go a little slower with less spirit-oak-oxygen interaction.

I really didn't know what would happen.

---

On Day 0, I estimated the blend to be 47% malt, peating level around 6ppm, and with a 44.6% ABV.

FIRST CHECKPOINT - 4 weeks
Measurement only.  Success!  0.96% lost to the angels (0.0343%/day).  An 89.5% reduction in the rate of volume lost to evaporation when compared to The Eagle Morning.  90.2% reduction in loss compared to Rye Storm.

SECOND CHECKPOINT - 8 weeks
Measurement: 2.24% lost to the angels (0.0401%/day).  That's a 89.3% reduction of the rate lost compared to Eagle Morning, 87.7% compared to Rye Storm.  I was actually going to keep my whisky!  But...

It tasted exactly the same as it had 8 weeks earlier.  None of the blended elements had integrated.  They were all floating around as separate parts.  On the bright side, there was very little oak present.  Though I had originally estimated 8 weeks as being my bottling point, this biscuit had barely begun baking.

THIRD CHECKPOINT - 12 weeks
Measurement only.  2.99% of liquid lost (0.0356%/day).  When I had re-wrapped it after the second checkpoint I likely sealed it more thoroughly, as evaporation had slowed further in the four weeks since.

FOURTH CHECKPOINT - 16 weeks
Before unwrapping, I decided that this might need to be the cutoff point for maturation.  I had no idea how long was too long.  Then I cut off the wrapping and found the following:

The metal was being corroded and oxidized.  The whisky, unable to escape into the heavens, had been eating the barrel.  Yeah, it was time to empty it.

Measurement: 3.846% lost to the angels (back to 0.0343% per day).
In its final days, The Eagle Morning was losing 0.5% of its volume each day; Rye Storm was losing over 0.7% daily at its end.  Comparatively, this new blend was losing 0.028% per day during the last four weeks.  The angels drank The Rye Storm 25 times faster than this new blend.

Then, the tasting notes:
Color -- Medium gold
Nose -- Very nice and malty. A light dusting of cinnamon and peat smoke. Some gooey sugary stuff and talcum powder.
Palate -- Instantly astringent. Wood resins, green and bitter like chewing on a new branch.  A box of pencils: wood, lead, cardboard, yellow paint, and all.  Maybe a flat plastic shopping bag laying on the side of the road?  Difficult to find the whisky part.
Finish -- Sugar coated pencils. Very bitter.

So, statistically, this was a runaway success.

But it tasted poorly......which broke my whisky heart, because the blend actually smelled very good with the rum, oak, and whiskies pleasantly intermingling.  But whisky is for drinking and my whisky was not for drinking.

At some point in the maturation, without interaction with the air, the whisky dug deeper and deeper into the oak, past the charred surface, soaking up the bitter resinous plant material beneath, leeching the xylem and phloem.  And it couldn't breathe, so those compounds carried back into the barrel.

Something had been lost by wrapping up the barrel.  As mentioned above, at the 8-week point nothing had yet occurred in the palate and nose.  It smelled and tasted like all of the separate parts were still separate, as if it had just been sitting in a bottle for a couple days.  While it's true that char may have been largely exhausted by this point, I can't help but think that the angels' share exists for a reason.  They take but they also give.  Oxidation had been suffocated, maturation had been corrupted.

So now I was left with tainted goods.  Disappointed, I considered dumping it all down the sink.

But then an idea took root.  All was not lost.

Tomorrow, The Firebird and The Heron...