The American Dr(e)am: From Branch to Bottle. Glenfiddich Single Malt Scotch Whisky

The American Dream. Sort of.

One of the magical things about whisky is seeing it grow up: from being a pure, clear spirit it transforms itself into a dark, delicious aged liquor. It is no secret that what aids this transformation, and where a large percentage of the flavour of whisky comes from, is the oak barrels in which the spirit is matured.

Earlier in the year I visited Jerez to see the production of sherry and sherry barrels, which are in the minority when it comes to the maturation of whisky. For the job of turning spirit into Scotch is left mainly to those casks sourced from America. So vital are these American oak casks to the whisky business, that I took a trip with Glenfiddich to find out exactly how they are made and where the wood comes from to produce them.

Living in London, nipping up to Scotland or heading over to Ireland to watch whisky making in progress is pretty easy. Not so, visiting some of the central and southern states of America... but if you want to see American oak barrels being produced, as well as the bourbon that will first fill them, that's where you have to go. So I packed my bag, my hat and my lumberjack shirt and headed out to the US to find out more about these casks.

Arriving in Kentucky I was surprised to find how cold it was; American whiskey maturation is all about high temperatures and humidity, allowing for fast maturation (a 'straight bourbon' must be two years or older, for example). However, I was out of luck if I wanted to top up my tan as temperatures in the morning had dipped to around about -9°C. It's funny how you can find a use for that bad Christmas jumper, even at the start of March!

My jumper, a hand-knitted affair from a far-flung relative, came in super-handy as my first appointment was a chilly start early one morning- not at a cooperage nor at a distillery, but in the middle of a field somewhere in Indiana. Growing up in the country, I'm used to early starts and cold weather but as a whisky writer I'm also used to warm drams and leather armchairs... so to find myself in the middle of the forest at 6am as the sun rises, without a hip flask in sight... well, you can imagine my terror.

Tim The Lumberjack

As the rising sun slowly lit up the misty forest, with the leaves crunching under foot, I made my way to a small clearing where the light came flooding in. Slowly emerging from the mist, a beast of a man carrying a chainsaw in one hand and a map in the other appeared, making his way towards me. Thrusting out his hand like a bears paw, he introduced himself as Tim, the local lumberjack.

Tim's job is to locate the enormous American white oaks which will be used to make whiskey barrels. Finding white oak trees is not the simplest of tasks; forests are agnostic as to the tree types which call it home and Tim works with just one other person to scour his and his neighbours' woodlands for them. After finding a maple and several other varieties of trees, we eventually came across what looked like a promising specimen: tall and straight, reaching high into the now clear, crisp blue sky, this tree was to be our first catch of the day.

Video: Tim Cuts Down An American White Oak (Note How He Manages To NOT Knock Other Trees Over At The Same Time)

Starting up his chainsaw Tim encouraged me to stand back in the woods to watch ("Back a bit further. A bit further, please. No... keep going. It's a big one!") as the tree came tumbling to the ground. Crashing into the forest floor Tim estimated it to be about 90ft long; quite a winner. After a good morning finding the right white oaks to fell, Tim loads his logs onto a lorry and drives them to the nearest sawmill, where they are turned into staves.

Tim The Lumberjack's Truck

A fascinating job, the role of this local lumberjack was far from my vision of huge teams of trunk-hunters deforesting left, right and centre. My favourite example of his lifestyle was when I asked Tim if he does this every day. His reply? Simply "Nope. Some days I go fishin'".

Once Tim's timber has been processed into staves, they make their way to a local cooperage, in this case, the family run Kelvin Cooperage.

Kelvin Cooperage is, as you would expect with the current demand for casks from all over the world, a hive of busyness. Sandwiched between Louisville airport and the wilderness of the sprawling State, it produces casks for some of the biggest companies in the world, including the chaps at Glenfiddich where there seems to be a real symbiotic relationship between the two companies, both being proudly family owned and operated.

The two brothers in charge at Kelvin, Paul and Kevin, are two of the most fascinating people you could wish to spend some time with, when it comes to the world of whiskey. These are the guys who provide the key element for every distiller who wants to make a mature spirit and as a result quality has to be at the forefront of everything they do.

A Heavily Charred American Oak Stave at Kelvin Cooperage.

Originally from Scotland and sons of a cooper, they relocated to Kentucky to start their cooperage. Sourcing wood locally, the barrels destined for Scotland are firstly used in the American whiskey business before being sent, whole, to Scotland to be filled with spirit.

I've been to cooperages before but have never witness the entire journey of oak, from branch to barrel, experiencing the sheer human endeavour involved; from taking 90ft logs out of a forest on a frosty spring morning to the coopers hard at work making or mending the barrels to be filled with spirit. Add to this the care and attention of the whisky-makers in Scotland and time it takes to mature Scotch whisky, then you'll realise that the age on the bottle is a mere indication of the whisky's age; it's true birthday to be found deep in the roots of an American white oak tree.

The Glenfiddich - 12 Years Old - 40% abv - 70cl - £26ish here and here

Nose: A big hit of vanilla, fresh green apples, cool whip, iced buns and some malt. Over time, kiwi, goosberry fool and basil appear to give the nose added depth.

Palate: The kwiki and goosberry (and other soft green fruits) come to the fore, with green and red apples in the middle and vanilla underpinning the whole palate. The malt gives good foundations for these flavours to sit on, while the vanilla takes the driving seat over time, especially with a splash of water. Fresh.

Finish: some spices but the ultimate flavour is apple sours and American-style 'watermelon'.

Overall: We have always said that these single malts with a more accessible price point are not to be dismissed. Sometimes it really pays to go back and try stalwarts such as this to see why they are so well loved by the consumer. Don't ignore because of their ubiquity.

I Come From The Land of the Ice and Snow: Reyka Vodka

I don't know how much you remember from your youth, but there are certain moments which, when I cast my mind back to them, define the age I was and that era of my life. 

For me the first real football World Cup but I remember was Italia '90. Such was the impact of the fantastic England team at that tournament, that I even purchased the Italia '90 Subbuteo set to relive those famous games with my dad on our dining table. 

The reality is that it probably rained hideously all summer long, but my memory is of running around the park playing as much football as I could and pretending to be an International footballer. I was 10 years old.

Fast forward to today and many World Cups have passed by. Just two later, when France '98 rolled around, life had changed immeasurably: now 18, this World Cup was experienced mainly in the pubs of Oxfordshire, surrounded by beer and friends, the same as many football tournaments since.

For me, World Cups have become an occasion to invite people over (or nip to the pub), open a few cold cans of beer and watch a couple of interesting football matches while catching up on gossip and generally just hanging out and I know this to be true for the generation before me, too. Beer and World Cups are synonymous for me; the perfect beverage to enjoy most watching my top sport.

But imagine being Icelandic... because, until 1989 beer was illegal in the country. There is a whole generation of people slightly older than me who were not able to enjoy any sporting occasion with a cold can of lager, let alone an artisanal craft ale. 

Thankfully times have changed and it is no surprise that post-1989 things in the Icelandic drinks business have been looking up. In the last few years craft breweries have been popping up over the island like sightings of trolls in the Viking times; even calling themselves things like Freyja... crazy, huh!

Not A Whisky, Freya is a locally brew from Iceland

However, as much as we love brewing and beer, they are mere soft drinks compared to what we are concerned with here at Caskstrength: spirits. Such is our love for the stuff that we have a new book coming out later this year called The Spirit Explorers, more of which you will hear about as the year progresses. It looks at interesting spirits, made by interesting people, in interesting places; one of those places being Iceland, for Iceland is the home to the Reyka vodka distillery, first ever on the island. 

An ambitious project which started in 2005, Reyka isn't made like most other vodkas in large column stills, but is distilled using a Carter-Head still of which there are only six operational in the world. The Carter-Head copper still (below right) was traditionally used for gin production as it is easy to hang a basket of botanicals inside. However, the chaps at Reyka have replaced the botanicals with Icelandic volcanic lava rock, which allegedly filters the spirit as it evaporates before condensing. 

Reyka's Carter-Head Copper Still

Again after condensing it passes through a glass receptacle full of lava rocks. These rocks and the ones in the basket are replaced every 50 distillations, cleansing the spirit as it comes off the still.

Couple this unique still and their addition of volcanic rock with Icelandic water, created by the melting of glaciers which feed the local streams and the pure Icelandic air, and you're left with a spirit that is not only crystal clear but has a delicate aroma, wonderfully rich mouth feel with hints of minerals and some vanilla and a finish which gives 'fresh' a whole new meaning. 

I enjoyed it simply over ice (taken from a glacial waterfall) or in a classic vodka martini with zest, where the fresh minerality combines with citrus to be the cocktail equivalent of a quick snort on some Vick's Vapour Rub. Worthy of a start to anyone's evening after a long day in the office.

If you get a chance to try this copper pot still vodka, then give it a go. Try it on the rocks to really put a slice of Iceland in your glass.

Timeless (and Ageless) Japanese Delights: Suntory's new Distiller's Reserve Yamazaki & Hakushu

Wow, what an extraordinary month it has been for whisky chatter so far. Any more of this excitement and we'll have to take a short nap somewhere quiet and friendly -  Rum or Armagnac perhaps.  ;-) 

First up and a large contingent of the online whisky community got its knickers unnecessarily in a twist about the unknown future of Scotch whisky and the terrifying looming spectre of No Age Statement whiskies. We'd like to issue a zen-like calming call to all those bloggers concerned: Take a deep breath and pour yourself something nice (maybe even N.A.S?)...whisky isn't broken quite just yet - we promise. 

Right on cue, Diageo, (seemingly the target for much abuse this past week especially) unveil a new range of Mortlach expressions AND a monumental stepping stone in the history of Brora. Two fairly hefty (and polarising) statements in the malt whisky world, by any stretch of the imagination. Whilst we'll reserve our judgment call on the 'Mortlach Scenario' (which sounds very much like a new Dan Brown novel) until we have actually tasted the liquid (makes sense, does it not chaps?) we can at least be thankful that there is plenty of excellent whisky left out there and the prospect of the industry moving forward yet again in the eyes of the every day consumer looks extremely positive in our view. 

Then the largest players in the world of Japanese whisky Suntory announces two brand new No Age Statement expressions, which will radically change the landscape of the international appetite for its whisky. 

It seems, as if No Age Statement-itus is catching folks... Better run and take cover. 

Stirred 13-and-a-half times?
A classic Highball

Suntory's latest brace of releases focus on the specific styles of their two malt distilleries, Yamazaki and Hakushu. The former, widely regarded as the very first Japanese whisky distillery celebrated its 90th anniversary last year and has long been a firm favourite here, for pushing the boundaries of flavour and versatility in whisky. 

In the 12 year old expression of both distilleries, Suntory have defined, in our opinion, (with the addition of Nikka's From The Barrel) the delicate simplicity of the Mizuwari (or Highball with sparkling water) -  a drink so perfect in its construction that lengthy tomes have been written about the correct number of times one should stir the mixture of whisky, ice and supremely clear spring water - Suntory reckoning that 13-and-a-half times is the pinnacle of excellence.  

So why bring out two new whiskies- The Distiller's Reserve range - especially lacking in age statements?

Well, like every whisk(e)y company in the world, times are a'changing and global demand for aged Japanese stock has meant that there is precious little out there - especially in Europe. With such an unprecedented focus on world whisky, Suntory have been smart enough to create two distillery defining expressions that not only deliver big on flavour, but also won't cost the earth, given the inevitable price rises of the 10, 12 and 18 year old expressions.  

Suntory Chef Blender Shinji Fukuyo pointing
out his predecessors  

At a launch last week in central London, both these new Japanese expressions were formally unveiled, after a highly successful introduction in the domestic market. We were lucky enough to join Shinji Fukuyo, Chief Blender and General Manager of the Whisky Blending and Planning Department at Suntory; the man responsible for creating the new range. Introducing the whiskies, Mr Fukuyo revealed that one of his daily responsibilities is to sample 300 different casks from the Suntory inventory, so with so many parameters to play with, putting these whiskies together was never going to be easy.  

And it wasn't.  

'After my first experiment, I was scalded by my boss,' he jokingly revealed, as we began to delve into the core component parts of both whiskies. But without a doubt, his second attempts have squarely hit the mark, both whiskies delivering what could accurately be described as the core flavours of each distillery: Yamazaki, known for its rich, well-rounded red berry fruit and lighter citrus zest - and Hakushu dialling in a little smokiness alongside a malty core, surrounded by soft orchard fruit and a little spice.   

Cask samples

Both expressions are formed by careful use of different cask styles, which Suntory have explored individually in their own dedicated bottlings. In the Yamazaki Distiller's Reserve, we were treated to cask samples from a Mizunara oak cask (a strain of oak unique to the Far East) which delivers a totally original and highly flavoursome spice note, reminiscent of Japanese incense. Alongside this, a sample from a cask of sherry matured whisky aged for around 20 years, complete with its big, bold and robust earthy dryness.  But an interesting additional Bordeaux wine cask finished whisky hinted at where much of the well-rounded red berry fruits and additional dryness in the new expression comes from.  

The Hakushu Distiller's Reserve comes from a totally different flavour profile altogether. Samples of lightly peated and heavily peated Hakushu were tried alongside a frankly astonishing sample of first fill bourbon cask Hakushu - if you happen to chance on a bottle of this style of Hakushu (there are a few floating around at good indie retailers) grab it - the tropical fruit notes will change your perception of whisky making forever.  (in fact see our review of this expression here)

So individually, each cask style delivers a distinct 'colour' to the overall picture. But what are they like when combined together?  'Stupendous'  is one word we would happily use.  

Yamazaki -  Distiller's Reserve -  43%  - No Age Statement - RRP under £40

Nose: A lightness hits first, with subtle vanilla and lemon zest, leading into fresh strawberries, a little milk chocolate and some golden syrup. There is also an emerging spicy/incense note, which develops with the addition of water.

Palate: The fruit becomes more intense, with fresh fleshy white peaches, a hint of raspberry, a dryer oaky note, vanilla essence and a twist of lemon zest.  It is vibrant and youthful, but still full of fabulous character.

Finish: Sweeter fruity notes linger, with an overall tannic background.

Overall: A superb start. This encompasses all the hallmarks of the 12 year old Yamazaki, but leads it into a new fresher styling.  Very clever whisky making and a steal for the retail price.

Hakushu Distiller's Reserve -  43% - No Age Statement - RRP under £40

Nose: Wonderfully fruity with soft pears, a touch of green apple peel, fresh mint, vanilla, a slight damp mossiness and a waft of very fragrant smoke -  enough to drive the heart of the distillery character but not too in-your-face for those who find peat too much of a distraction.

Palate: A lighter fruit develops first with fresh honeydew melon, sweet vanilla, the floral smoke mixing with a charred herbaceous note. With water, it really develops, the fruit starting to integrate wonderfully with the smoke.

Finish: The smoke is left on the palate, with a subtle fruitiness and a hint of oak.

Overall: Another fantastically balanced whisky. Hard to pick out a favourite here, as both whiskies deliver so much character within their 'house' styles.  We would recommend both of these side-by-side - especially if you're planning to have a go at your very own entry into the Mizuwari/Highball phenomenon!

Make no mistake: Suntory have undoubtedly released two game-changing No Age Statement whiskies here.

Anyone still left ranting, please form an orderly queue.

Expect to see both these whiskies at either Master Of Malt or Whisky Exchange soon.  

 

Streuth! A Quick Chat With Casey Overeem, Founder of the Old Hobart Distillery

'I'll never forget meeting my uncle in Norway many years ago now', says Casey Overeem, with a smile on his face.  

'When I arrived at his house, he said (in his somewhat broken English) 'Casey...you... me... friends'... and we went down into his cellar - and there in a cupboard, dripping away, was a little still.  After a few minutes we had a glass worth each and he said Skal! Well, I thought he meant 'Skull' (meaning 'down in one') which probably wasn't the greatest thing to do with spirit straight off the still at 70%.' 

This was the first experience of distilling for the highly affable and down-to-earth Overeem and clearly, the brutal, high strength spirit he had just knocked back must have made its mark in more ways than one. Today, The Old Hobart distillery which Overeem founded back in 2005 is steadily securing a reputation around the world for arguably producing Tasmania's best whisky, with new fans discovering the small but exquisite range mostly on the recommendation of those in-the-know or from the growing number of glowing reviews. We can put our hands up and say that we are keen supporters of the work Casey and his team are doing, first trying the range of four whiskies last year purely by chance.

To say we were impressed would be an understatement. We caught up with Casey on a recent visit to London to discuss the ethos behind the distillery and what he believes is the secret behind the burgeoning whisky scene in Tasmania. 




First up though, we're keen to find out what made Casey continue with his fascination into distilling after such a highly spirited introduction.

'Well I wasn't a whisky aficionado or anything like that. It was really down to my experience in Norway,' he explains. 'I said to Greta, (Casey's wife) i've gotta build one of those stills when we get back home. I basically got a beer vat and started brewing using sugar as the base - like a rum.  Well, that didn't taste much good at all, so we really started doing some proper research about cut points and then over the next five years we learnt to make whisky.' 

Back then, it was a case of Casey sticking his finger in the glass and setting it on fire to determine the stage of the spirit run, but now, after running Old Hobart for around a decade, everything seems to have settled into its right place. 

'Now we don't really have any specific technique to determine cut points etc, it's all done by nose as the runs are so consistent,' he points out. Our stills are made by a guy in Hobart called Peter Bailey- he does everything from copper shaping to welding, boiler making and still design,' he continues, 'which is why I guess distilling has taken off so well in Tasmania. We have two stills: a wash and a spirit, with electric heating elements underneath, which makes them very clean inside. We tried to emulate what would have happened when they were direct fired from underneath. When I was in Scotland, I took a load of pictures of different stills, mainly for the lyne arms, particularly the ones which gave a heavier, more oily new make spirit which is what I was looking for. I think you'll find ours bears a certain resemblance to a popular one on Islay', he says grinning... 'They're such a special bunch of distillers there - and we owe them a lot of gratitude as they were very helpful when we were setting up the distillery.'


So how many casks do you fill now? 

'We fill about one barrel a week now- maybe 60 in the course of a year, all into 100 litre first-fill casks. 

'So a very small outturn then?

'For sure. Funnily enough, a mate of ours was visiting Islay recently and mentioned to a distiller that he had a friend who owned a distillery back home. The distiller asked how many casks we were filling and laughed when our mate told him."We probably spill more than that a year", was his response!'

'How did you determine what sort of wood you wanted to use?'

'Well Bill Lark (owner of the Lark distillery and one of the founding fathers of the resurgence in Australian whisky making) and I went to Scotland in 2005 and one of the head distillers on a tour said that if they could afford it they would mature everything in 100 litre barrels, so Bill took that on board and I followed suit. Nearly everything we fill into is from cut down ex-Australian port or sherry casks from French oak - filled at 63.5% - but the Angels' Share is extremely high here. In five years we've probably lost about 20% of the spirit. We'll usually get about 180 bottles (at 43% strength) from each cask and although each barrel is consistent, there will be subtle differences in each bottling, but we're hugely proud of each one.' 

Have you tried maturing in anything bigger?

'We did try a 200 litre and it was very good indeed, (a mythical bourbon barrel bottling, which we have yet to try) but anything smaller takes a lot of colour but doesn't give us the quality of flavour we are looking for. Interestingly, I think the whisky is really peaking around five years -  the oldest cask I have is about six-and-a-half years old and i'm not convinced it's getting better. But there's a significant change in the last few months of maturation: the difference between the whisky at four-and-a-half to five years is profound.' 

Have you tried using any refill casks? 

'I reckon i've got about 25 or 30 refill barrels that i've filled - some port and some sherry- but i'll have to wait longer, probably 7-8 years to get what i'm looking for from them. But I really don't want to change the recipe of what we do, as we don't make enough to do many risky experiments with.'

Would you say you've learned a number of different lessons as a distiller over the years?

'Two things spring to mind. Firstly, making the whisky is the easy part!  But secondly, getting everything else right - ie getting people to put your whisky on the shelves and then into the hands of drinkers is another thing. It's taken a long time for Tasmanian whisky to become accepted and to be early in an emerging scene is a challenge, but it's also good as we're finding people are likely to take a real chance on you.'

So is there a good camaraderie between the other Tasmanian distilleries?'

Very strong indeed. We share ideas and we promote the idea of Tasmanian whisky together in bars and wherever we can, as well as meeting often and sharing a dram together. It's like a piece of rope: single strands have no strength, but put many of them together and you have some real pulling power.'

What makes Tasmania such a great place to make whisky?

'The climate is ideal really - we have a bigger temperature range than Scotland- good dry air which creates some movement through the barrels, some exceptional soft water and we grow some of the best barley in the Franklin variety- it's a strain which is now on its way out, but was sought out the world over for brewing beer. And of course passionate people!'

Jane Overeem, carrying on Casey's
knack for making Tasmanian whisky

So where do you see it going, over the next decade?

'Well I did this as a hobby originally!' he laughs. 'My daughter Jane has been pressing me for an answer like that too. She's an integral part of what we have done and ten years later, here we are. You only have one life and this has certainly been the most exciting part of mine and the most high profile.'

As we wrap up our interview at the Southbank Centre on the River Thames, with a backdrop of London at its finest, it dawns on us that it must make Casey feel proud that his whisky has literally come such a long way.

'It's totally humbling when you consider the origins of where it all started,' he points out. 'In fact, if you look at the cap on the bottle, you'll see it says three words: Born Of Promise.  I made a promise to myself when I started that I wanted to get a bottle on the shelves in Holland, where my father was born and the very first international order we had was from a shop in Holland - Van Wees. What was remarkable is that it turns out the shop was only 10km from where he grew up and was in the town he did his apprenticeship! 

Fate moves in strange ways...

To read our review of the current range of Overeem whiskies distilled at the Old Hobart distillery, click here. 

For more info on the distillery itself, visit: www.overeem.co.uk

Flight Of Fancy - Brora 40 Year Old Single Malt Whisky Travel Retail Exclusive

As I sit down to type this, may I refer you to our last post on Caskstrength. Whisky is truly an extraordinary thing. After all, it has for the past seven years filled pretty much my every waking hour in some capacity. It has helped form wonderful and lengthy friendships and it has also fuelled many a lengthy debate- in person and online.  But the bottom line is that there is clearly no other spirit in the world like it for bringing people together in anticipation of what delight they are about to try.  

The first time this happened for me was over 16 years ago now, with a group of several close friends.  We selected three single malts that we felt would be the pinnacle of excellence: the gateway into genuine appreciation for a drink, which I had never experienced before (being a reckless teenager and all that- then at university trying to emulate the life and times of Withnail.)  

In most cases, single malt opens one's eyes to a genuine respect for a spirit. It has that air of intrigue and the hand of genuine craftsmanship firmly upon it -  regardless of whether it carries an age or not. The night we selected three different single malts (a Cragganmore 12 year old, a Laphroaig 10 year old and a Glenmorangie 10 year old) I realised that something had changed. Over the course of three or four hours, I developed an understanding of how to really enjoy drinking without actually getting drunk. Each of these exceptional whiskies had a completely unique personality- for my other co-drinkers, the Laphroaig's bold, abrasive fiery temperament being the anthesis to the Glenmorangie's smooth and understated delicacy. Personally, I loved then all and to this day, those same three whiskies (different bottles of course) still grace my drinks cabinet as well as the one here in our office.  

Today, that drinks cabinet has one additional bottle; one much smaller in size, but equally profound.  

It contains a sample of 40 year old Brora, drawn from a single cask filled in 1972. For those of you who don't follow this blog regularly, Brora has become one of the trio of near mythical whisky distilleries (along with Port Ellen and Rosebank) closed down and long forgotten, until perhaps the last decade or so. Releases from these three are scarce, with Diageo owning the remaining (fast diminishing stocks). This Brora sample comes from a bottling done especially for Global Travel Retail in the Middle East and only 160 bottles will be available, each coming in a decanter and carrying the price tag of a shade under £7,000. So extremely rare and extremely expensive.  

Today, I am reminded of that very same sense of intrigue that first drew me into whisky and undoubtedly what led me to find a career in writing about it. Samples arrive at our office on a daily basis and every now and again, they genuinely stop you in their tracks: from the fantastic Overeem whiskies of Tasmania that arrived out of the blue (and totally blew us away) to an as-yet unreviewed and very, very old whisky, which we shall unveil later this week.  This sample of Brora is one of those moments. In fact, as I open the sample, I genuinely don't know what to expect...

Brora - 40 Year Old - Single Cask 1972 Vintage -  160 Bottles  - 59.1%

Nose: Where to begin.  'Lively' is a word that usually applies to whiskies only a fraction of the age of this elder statesman. But this has a real fire from the get go. Hugely peated (easily the most peated Brora I've come across) this could pass as a Caol Ila or perhaps even a younger Lagavulin. But underneath the peat lies some soft malt, linseed oil, Brazil nut shells, sweet vanilla and a cloud of white pepper - alongside a familiar slightly wet hay note that Brora often has. Would you really peg this as a 40 year old whisky though, if nosing it blind? I doubt it. The extremely high ABV helps to keep your nose guessing and only a little water reveals its true character. With a dash, stewed summer fruit aromas come to the fore alongside a little liquorice, carbolic soap, fresh mint and leather.  

Palate: Initially very sweet with a powerful chewy wood smoke. Buttery notes follow with some ripe bananas, more tingling white pepper and the first signs of oakiness. The strength is still right up front and in all honesty, is slightly distracting- again you wouldn't peg this as a whisky in its 4th decade. The water brings things down perfectly with dried ginger notes, rich shortcake and summer fruits, dark brown sugar and a beautifully aged peat note. That's more like it.  

Finish: A wash of wood smoke stays on the palate, alongside a tingling pepper, some traces of oak and a little creaminess, dusted with icing sugar and coated in dark honey. To say this is lengthy would be an understatement, thanks in part to the peatiness, but the mouthfeel (with water) is truly excellent.  

Overall: A huge surprise. This really won't be for everyone's tastes. Rather like that first encounter my friends and I had with Laphroaig, the smoke in this Brora is extremely dominant and not for the faint hearted. But dig past this and you'll be dazzled by what lies underneath. There are layers of complexity here which only an old whisky can deliver, but still signs of youth too, given the spritely ABV. It is, in essence, a very challenging whisky - and like that very first proper encounter I had with single malt, almost impossible to put down as a result.  

Turn the lights off and lock up will you, Joel... I may be here for some time yet...