Not all older whiskies are created equal. Whatever the reason behind it, there are simply some whiskies that age more gracefully than others, reaching a profoundness in maturity that others cannot quite achieve. Similar to some of the questions that I posed in a recent post about a Guatemalan coffee from Stumptown, I’m sure there are factors that play into the aging equation that some distilleries approach differently than others. Perhaps it’s the type of cask used, where the whisky is aged, or some step in the distillation process. But in the end, the reality is that some whiskies just age significantly better than others.

Glenfarclas is one of those.

What’s more, Glenfarclas is a whisky that expresses deep, enticing flavors throughout it’s lifecycle. From their basic 10-year bottling all the way up to the older, single-barrel bottlings, such as the 1968 single-cask that they released several years ago, Glenfarclas whiskies are singularly unique, and very good. But it’s really in their old(er) age that these whiskies hit their stride. I’ve tasted several that have passed the 30-year mark, and all were superlatively delicious.

Why is this? Why is it that this one distillery manages to so consistently produce and bottle such great whiskies?

Part of it surely has to do with their heritage and ownership history. Glenfarclas is one of only a handful of family-owned, independent distilleries, and has been in the Grant family for several generations (since 1865 to be exact). Instead of being part of a corporate portfolio, this is a whisky expressing the values and vision of a family whose heart lies within the distillery walls. Thus, careful attention to detail and a commitment to producing a consistently wonderful finished product are par for the course.

Another part of the explanation is their barrel program. Glenfarclas uses mostly Oloroso sherry casks, an increasingly rare feat in today’s whisky world. Whereas sherry barrels were more commonly used by Scotch distilleries in the not-too-distant past, due to issues with the quality of the barrels their use is more rare these days. Alongside a distillery such as Aberlour (who uses a high proportion of sherry casks, along with bourbon casks), Glenfarclas is one of the few dedicated to using such a high proportion of sherry casks. Furthermore, for their whiskies that will be released as single malts, Glenfarclas uses only first and second fill casks, and for the whisky that will be sold to blenders they use third fill casks.

Why does their barrel program make such a difference? Sherry casks lend such a different character to aging whisky, and I personally feel that whiskies in sherry casks age more gracefully than those in bourbon casks. Or perhaps it is that sherry cask whiskies just show more beautifully at older age than those in bourbon casks. Too, their dedication to using only first and second fill casks ensures that their oldest whiskies spend their whole lives aging in fresher barrels that will impart more character to the whisky, producing complex, layered whiskies after a decade or three.

But after these two obvious reasons, we really have to begin reaching, drawing conclusions that are little more than hypotheses. Does it have something to do with how they distill their whisky? Or the warehouses they age it in? How about the natural ingredients? The malt they use, their water source?

In the end, we can only really conjecture as to why Glenfarclas whiskies age so wonderfully. What we can do with certainty is enjoy the whiskies themselves!

Interesting tidbit: All of the male members of the Grant family are named either John or George. The current chairman is John L.S. Grant, and the current brand ambassador is his son George S. Grant.

Tasting Notes

The color of this whisky is an alluring deep golden with auburn tints. The nose is rich and sweet, and just goes on and on displaying notes of figs, red fruits, honey, and beeswax. The palate is medium textured, soft and supple without being heavy. There are velvety notes of salted caramel, creme anglaise, marzipan, rum-soaked fruits, and mesquite honey, all underscored by a layer of dry oakiness. On the finish, some citrus makes its way into the picture, accompanied by honey and fruit.

Overall, this is a very sweet, fruity, and fairly full bodied whisky, and an absolute pleasure to sip unhurriedly. It’s very gentle, and (unsurprisingly) I wonder what it would have been like at cask strength. The Scotch Malt Whisky Society occasionally offers older bottles of Glenfarclas, which of course are all single-cask, cask-strength bottles, and while I’ve never tried one, they are invariably one of the whiskies among their offerings that always arrests my attention. One of these days, I’ll have to take the plunge and order one. Hopefully before this bottle is kaput, as a side-by-side tasting is definitely in order.

Signatory is a whisky bottler that I’ve been tasting a number of very interesting malts from recently. They have two lines that I’ve been tasting whiskies from, their cask-strength and single-barrel offerings.

The single-barrel offerings have been interesting, and have included both sherry and bourbon casks. Each bottling is reduced to ~43%. Interestingly, many of these feature a very similar quality, a sort of soft luster, similar to old Hollywood films where they would use soft-focus when shooting close-ups of star actresses. These Signatory whiskies all tend to have this overtly pleasant, approachable element to them. They’re quite tasty and enjoyable, but not necessarily thought-provoking.

The cask-strength (often also single-barrel) whiskies are another beast entirely. Each is a pretty unique expression of the distillery in question, and the flavor spectrum tends to be rather dynamic and interesting. The whiskies bottled in their teens have been fairly exciting, and the older whiskies a bit more austere and difficult to approach. But all in all, a pretty good series of whiskies, highly recommended.

This bottle of Ben Nevis is from the latter series. The distillery is owned by the Nikka Whisky Distilling Company of Japan, who are themselves well-known for the whiskies they produce in their home country. Founded in 1820, Ben Nevis went on to become the first distillery to produce both malt and grain whisky when a Coffey still was installed in 1955. Today, Ben Nevis produces only malt whisky, to the tune of approximately 2 million liters per year. Bourbon, sherry, and French wine casks are used for aging.

This bottling is from a sherry butt, and is bottle 54 of 550. It was distilled on 7/3/1992 and bottled 16 years later on 8/15/2008. As I said, it’s cask-strength, weighing in at 54.6%.

Tasting Notes

The whisky is coppery gold in the glass, with some very nice, compelling beading along the edge. The nose is sweet and fruity, with rich, woody, sherried notes, maple syrup, and an undercurrent of citrus. The palate has a beguiling, mouth-coating texture, and is powerful and a bit overwhelming at full strength. The flavors are rich and sweet, with brown sugar, candied apples, rum-soaked fruit, a whiff of smoke, and a hint of citrus. The finish is long-lasting and spellbinding, with incredible notes of oak, creme brulee, caramelized turbinado sugar, and brown sugar syrup.

All in all, a great whisky. It took a fair amount of water to tame, but afterwards was both gentle and rich in the glass. Like I said, Signatory’s been bottling some very nice whiskies as part of this cask-strength line, and I’d highly recommend giving them a roll next time you’re on the hunt for a tasty malt to add to your collection.

As time has passed and I’ve had the good fortune to taste a wide range of whiskies, from new make spirit all the way up to 44-year olds, I’ve developed a real respect and affection for older whiskies. While I appreciate and enjoy the brash energy of young whiskies, it’s the greater complexity and stateliness of older whiskies that really has the power to mesmerize me. Time brings lots of benefits to whisky, among them more presence in the glass, and a ripe, richness that comes across as a much different characteristic when the whisky is younger.

Most excitingly, it’s always fun to dive into a really old whisky to see what it has to offer. Because Scotch whiskies past the 30-year mark can be an unpredictable mixed bag, you never really know what you’re going to get. At this point, the whisky has been in the barrel for quite a long time, and so the characteristics that it had when fresh off the still have long since been subsumed and transformed into a unique, profound relationship with the barrel that it’s been resting in for so long. The impact and role of the barrel are therefore predominant in determining the quality of the finished whisky. A bad barrel can ruin what would have been a remarkable whisky, and a great barrel can raise the same whisky to stunning heights.

Them there is the role of the bottler, who has a handful of decisions to make. Blend several old casks into a single bottling, or go single-cask? What proof? Cask-strength or diluted? If diluted, how low do you go? 46? 43? 40? Chill-filter? (shudder…) I’ve definitely tasted a number of old whiskies where you could just tell that bottled at cask-strength or as a single-cask it would have been an amazing whisky. But bottled as it was, well…something had been lost along the way.

In my experience, many of the older whiskies from Gordon & MacPhail experience a fate such as this. Their typical approach is to blend casks of older whiskies together and dilute at bottling, to either 40% or 43%. I can understand the rationale behind both decisions, but don’t empathize with it. Yes, 40% or 43% makes for a very drinkable whisky, but a rather tame one as well. And if I’m spending the money on such an older whisky, I want the choice as to how much water should be added to my whisky. I also have such a strong affinity for single-cask whiskies, that it’s simply too hard not to speculate longingly about how stellar some of the casks that went into the final blend must have been.

That being said, G&M offers a wide range of older whiskies at very reasonable prices, so it’s hard to take them to task too much. It’s more like buyer-beware: it’s important to know how they typically bottle older whiskies, so that you can have appropriate expectations. They’re all very nice whiskies, if not overly remarkable or inspiring.

This Linkwood 33-year old was one of the whiskies at we featured at the Old Whiskies tasting at Amherst Coffee this past March. It was the only one of them bottled at 40%, and it showed. Overall the whisky was quite good, but very understated.

Linkwood produces a fair amount of whisky each year, approximately 2.6 million liters. But what makes this whisky pretty darn exciting is that it was produced in 1969, 2 years before the distillery was expanded from 2 to 6 stills. So this particular whisky was distilled at a time when Linkwood was a much smaller distillery, and likely producing a slightly different spirit.

Tasting Notes

The whisky is the color of burnished gold with subtle amber tints. The nose has soft notes of red fruit reminiscent of sherry cask aging, alongside butter cookies, poached pears, candied lemon lime rind, and spun sugar. The whisky’s texture is very soft, gentle, and mouth-coating. The spectrum of favors is similar to the nose, with subtly sweet and gentle elements of pears, caramel custard, shortbread cookies, wheat and grain. The one note missing is the red fruit flavors, but these are compensated for by a buttered rum note that becomes more prominent as the whisky warms. The medium-length has flavors of genoise cake and soft, ripe fruits.

Very nice whisky. Rich and interesting, and quite drinkable. The flavors came across a bit soft, which is the impact of the 40%.

The one caveat to these notes, is that all of the flavors were very gently pronounced and subdued, not quite as profound as they sound in writing them. Nonetheless, this is a nice whisky. I remember distinctly at the tasting that the reception was very similar: this is a nice, very drinkable and enjoyable whisky, but without loads of character in the glass.

Still, pretty cool that it was distilled 41 years ago’ eh?

The “connoisseur” in me often thinks that whiskies from closed distilleries represent the holy grail. That tasting a whisky from one of these distilleries is almost like tasting a piece of history, snatching a fragment of the past from the jaws of time. No doubt, this is a distinctly romantic notion. But an exciting one nonetheless.

In part, the idea, and the excitement surrounding it, stems from scarcity: whiskies from closed distilleries become rarer by the day. Each year that passes is one year farther from when they shut their doors for the last time, and the number of barrels or bottles in existence steadily dwindles. Independent bottlers work hard to secure barrels of this increasingly unique whisky, and collectors race against one another to stow away bottles.

So, scarcity breeds romanticism, and in some cases the result is difficult to find and wildly priced whiskies. Just look at recent bottlings of Port Ellen or Brora, two long-since closed distilleries prized by whisky enthusiasts today. Bottles of these distilleries’ whisky, now reaching 30-years old, fetch $300-$400. Not only are they pricey, but there are only a handful of them to go around. The reputation of these whiskies precedes them, but in (sadly) too many cases their price tag puts them out of reach of most folks.

Herein lies one of the best elements of whiskies from the Scotch Malt Whisky Society. Not only do they consistently bottle stellar whiskies from a great range of distilleries – all of which are single-cask and non-chill-filtered -, but they regularly offer rare and hard to find gems at (all things considered) reasonable prices. Every couple of months when their list of available bottlings is sent out, it invariably includes at least a couple from closed distilleries. Alongside these are the whiskies offered from distilleries rarely, if ever, seen in independent bottlings. Take, for example, the Glen Elgin that I tried recently.That the Society makes a point of offering bottlings from closed distilleries is a wonderfully bittersweet pleasure. On the one hand is the joy of tasting such a unique and tasty whisky. On the other is the awareness that these opportunities are increasingly limited.

This bottle of whisky is an excellent example. Rosebank closed in May of 1993, 153 years after being founded by one James Rankine. Alongside St. Magdalene, Rosebank was one of the most highly regarded Lowland malts, and sadly both are closed today (St. Magdalene closed in 1983). This particular whisky was distilled in April 1989, and spent 20 years aging in a refill bourbon hogshead before being bottled at a cask-strength of 56.7%.

Tasting Notes

This Rosebank is darker than others I’ve had, certainly a result of its greater age. The color is of lustrous, polished gold. The nose has notes of heather, sugared citrus, custard, lemon curd, and a hint of vanilla bean. The palate is rich and velvety, with mouth-coatingly sweet layers of poached apples and pears, custard, creme anglaise, and a hint of light caramel, wispy smoke, riding atop a viscous, malty body. The whisky really shines on the finish, with increasingly deep flavors of caramelized sugars. Think tasting the flavors of turbinado sugar as it’s slowly melted atop a creme brulee, finishing with just a hint of dark, burnt sugar.

What I enjoyed most about this whisky was the way in which the flavors deepened and opened up from the nose, through the palate, and on to the finish. The other Rosebank that I’ve tried recently was not quite as old, and not nearly as rich. It had a much stronger citrus and heather element taking place. It was excellent, and this bottle represents another side of this (sadly closed) distillery’s excellent whisky.

Dufftown is one of the distilleries included in the famous saying,

Rome was built on seven hills, but Dufftown is built on seven stills.

Named eponymously after the town it resides in, Dufftown (the distillery) was the 6th distillery to be established in town. The saying initially referred to the following distilleries: Balvenie, Convalmore, Dufftown, Glendullan, Glenfiddich, Mortlach, and Parkmore. After three of these distilleries closed (Convalmore, Glendullan, and Parkmore) and three new distilleries opened, the saying came to mean: Balvenie, Dufftown, Pittyvaich, Glenfiddich, Mortlach, Glendullan, and Kininvie. Today, five distilleries remain in Dufftown, so I suppose that we should sadly give up on the wonderful saying altogether.

Dufftown (the distillery) was founded in 1895 when it was converted from a meal mill into a distillery. The conversion took a little over a year, and the stills began running on November 10th, 1896. The distillery then experienced a rather uneventful couple of decades before its owners went bankrupt during the Prohibition period in America, and were forced to sell the business, lock, stock, and barrels (literally, both the distillery and all existing stock were included in the purchase).

The distillery was purchased by Arthur Bell & Sons, and quickly became a principal component of the Bell’s blend, leading to decades of busy distilling. In 1968 the stills were increased from two to four, in 1974 from four to six, and in 1979 from six to eight. Today, the distillery has an annual capacity of 4 million liters, making it the 12th largest distillery in Scotland.

Interestingly, despite that massive production, a mere 1% of the whisky goes for single malt bottlings. The vast majority goes into the Bell’s blend, with a substantial amount going to other blends. This bottling, named The Singleton, is rather new, and was introduced a couple of years ago.

Tasting Notes

All in all, this is a classic Speyside-style whisky. Not a classic whisky, but in the classic style. The color is rich, burnished gold. The nose has poached pears, almonds, custard, wheat, and a slight grassiness. Quite round and pleasant. The palate is soft, slightly oily and very mellow, with flavors of hazelnuts, almonds, honey, vanilla wafers, and a subtle fruitiness. Very drinkable, in a pleasant, unexciting way. The finish is quite brief, with soft flavors of clotted cream, pears, and hints of citrus.

I like Royal Mile Whiskies description best: “a pleasant but undramatic whisky”. I think this really captures this dram perfectly. It’s thoroughly enjoyable, in an easy, unchallenging, friendly kind of way. Similar to my Maker’s Mark post of a couple days ago, this would make a great every day whisky for the scotch drinker (although, I have to admit that Maker’s Mark impressed me much more).