46% ABV / 92 proof; no age statement; 100% malted barley; price varies dramatically these days, but a 750ml bottle cost between $60-70 in January of 2011. A peek online at Wine Searcher reveals (surprisingly) that bottles that can still be had out of auction. The cheapest sells for $200, whereas the highest price is triple that already excessive figure.
Tawny in color, with nymphet-like tears. Plump young legs in my glass take their sweet time rolling down. Curious. Normally, the smaller the tears, the older the whisky, and the more slowly they descend.
Forest loam; modeling putty; orange marmalade; sea salt; lemon zest; creamery butter; a forest fire burning thousands of acres, albeit many miles away; allspice; clove.
A nice, gentle wood presence emerges in a way that evokes the same allspice that was noticeable in the nose. Theres also a floral presence here. Jasmine or lily? Tough choice. Im going with jasmine. The sherry presence in my glass is mercurial, to be sure. Fruit flavors emerge, yielding mandarin orange, Hachiya persimmon, and sour pie cherries. In fact, the cherry note borders on Kirschwasser . Farmy, smokey charms are never far behind: Steady-on
wow, this is so atypical for a Glenmorangie, at least in terms of the contemporary releases. Love it! Theres also a charming essence of minerality, which reminds me of TerraAlta blanco tequila in the best of ways. I keep trying to focus on a note of dark chocolate, but its sweet nothings are upstaged by the impatient bite of virgin oak. Woody resins, together a splash of young spirit, create the sensation left in ones mouth from chewing tobacco, long after the dip is gone. Finish: Medium in length with allspice, pepper corn, dark chocolate, lemon rind, and a gentle curl of peat smoke. No water is needed to fully appreciate all that this whisky has to offer.
Medium in length with allspice, pepper corn, dark chocolate, lemon rind, and a gentle curl of peat smoke. No water is needed to fully appreciate all that this whisky has to offer.
Thank you, Glenmorangie, for producing a dirty rascal with the playful naivete of a virgin. This is a winning combination in each and every sip. I only wish more Glenmorangies flirted with such an alluring combination of scents and flavors. Mmm hmm. Finealta makes the vast majority of NAS single malt Scotch whiskies these days seem predictable, and even boring, by comparison.rnrnNow, in all honesty, is this one of the more complex single malt Scotches that I’ve ever tasted? Uh, no. Not by a long shot. But it’s quite rewarding in the way it evokes the gracefully jaded Glenmorangies of yesteryear.rnrnIf you can find a bottle of this lovely tramp at auction, then snatch ‘er up–that is, if your wallet is fat enough to withstand a donkey punch. Expect to pay at least twice what Finealta cost back when it was released in January of 2011. After you hit the “buy” icon at auction, in time, you will be treated to a taste of history. Down the hatch, upsie daisies. Not all that glitters is gold. Take your medicine, along with desert.rnrnOnce you’ve added the memory of this bottle to your repertoire of happily misfired brain cells, then you will command a greater sense of perspective in so far as vintage whisky is concerned. And when an equally knowledgeable drinking buddy laments the lack of happy accidents in today’s whisky market, you can raise your glass with confidence: “A toast! A toast! To the good ole days…when men were steel, boats were wood, and Scotch was deliciously unpredictable.”
