Life is good. That is a proposition that hadn’t occurred to me for months. There is so much stress and so little free time in my current situation – working a full time research and editing job, booking and promoting musicians and bands for a struggling venue I bought with friends about a year ago, renovating a house built in 1880, inside and out, down to the original studs and shingles, and taking on the responsibilities of a general contractor for the first time in my life, and so on and so on and so on and on… So busy, I declare, that I haven’t had sufficient leisure to make time for whisky, friends or reflection.
All that changed last Friday night. I made plans to visit with some of my old Ethanolics Club chums back in Massachusetts – let’s call them Bikram, Tom and Patrick (because those are their names!) – as well as with some newbies to the club – let’s call them Deepak and Nitish.
It is always good to meet up with old friends and to meet new people who share a common passion, and that was surely the case that night. Still, for me, the core experience of that gathering, the aspect of it that glowed most warmly and with such unstinting radiance, was the brimming generosity – of both spirit and spirits – displayed by all present. Some of the best whiskies I’ve ever drunk in my life were, in fact, drunk that night. An exquisite older bottling of a 15 year old Lochside, a luxurious 16 year old Laphroaig, a cool and very fine 18 year old Caol Ila, a fertile and sumptuous 25 year old Highland Park – each from a different independent bottler – were among the riches offered so freely that night. Good conversation and good food, great whisky and great friends… As I was driving away, circumspectly as you might guess, to stay at the home of another deeply generous soul – let’s call him Brad – I kept repeating something of which I was so glad to be reminded: Life is good. And indeed it is. Life is… Good!
I’ll tell you right up front, I thoroughly enjoyed this one, and I wish I had had it in hand to bring to my old and new friends that night. The bottle is very limited – only 265 bottles from a single cask – but it’s still around if you dig hard enough. I dug and I found it.
You can learn more about the distillery here: http://www.maltmadness.com/whisky/glentauchers.html.
And you can learn more about this storied independent bottler here: http://www.ianmacleod.com/brands/chieftains.
This particular single malt is quite light in color considering its advanced age; the color of white oak tears, perhaps.
With an ABV of 59.5% – after 20 years in an ex-bourbon hogshead! – you’ll want to get your distilled water ready right at the start; if you skip that step, the biting alcohol will overpower and conceal much that this dram has to offer.
The legs are narrow, both fast and slow, but mostly slow, and promising.
Rose petals macerated in ethereal rum oil sprinkled with cinnamon and oak bark dust.
Big Red gum dampened with a drop or two of Afrin nasal spray (Oxymetazoline).
Wildflower (“drier” than clover) honey blended with Japanese curry.
Or perhaps the spice is chat masala, made with coriander, cumin, dried red chile peppers and a touch of amchoor, but little salt and almost no black pepper.
Which is not to say this is too spicy: It is not. The spice rides over the soft warm fruit of this redolent dram like a warm breeze over supple, sunbathing flesh.
There’s just the slightest note of smoke, like the wet earthy energy that rises off fire-roasted tomatoes – but without the crushed tomato smell.
All of the above revealed itself with a bit of water. It is all a bit hotter and hidden if you nose it uncut.
Good complexity with some unusual, unexpected elements. 23/25
Straight, this nearly 120 proof elixir pulls no punches, but stings and numbs the tongue and lower gums.
Still, a wholesome wave of non-citric fruits poached in liquefied honey crystals pushes through the fire.
Add several drops of water and you get slices of ripe cantaloupe melon floating in light sugar and agave syrup.
And you notice a pleasant, sensual, slightly oily mouth feel.
The fruitiness has a nice astringency, like tannins slightly puckering a fruity Shiraz.
There’s a grassy barky earthiness to this, but with an un-cloying sweetness, like some craft sarsaparilla root or birch beer soda.
From the nose, the “dry” wildflower honey and the complex multicultural spice follow through to the palate.
And, again, good complexity (though a bit less complex and enticing than the nose) with earthy, sweet and spicy surprises. 21/25
The confluence of a high octane unfiltered ABV, warm fruit, measured sweetnesses and a global spice mix, combined with a tannin-like astringency that nonetheless holds itself a few paces back from “too dry” – and you have the formula for a long, tantalizing, warming finish – which is precisely what you get here. 23/25
The structure of this whisky is a weave of disparate elements that results in a very full, beguiling experience that brings the drinker across a single bridge from sight to nose to palate to finish – a bridge with remarkable twists and turns, all worth taking. This is well-tended, well-aged, well-structured and nicely balanced whisky that responds generously to close scrutiny. Lovely and robust simultaneously. 23/25
Total Points for this whisky: 90
A very special thanks to Adam Maur and to ImpEx Beverages for the samples.