Aberlour A’bunadh is simply a remarkable whisky, on multiple accounts. On the one hand, it is lip-smackingly good, and is unequivocally one of the finest scotch whiskies available (from any distillery or independent bottler). On the other, not only is it so stunningly good, but it is also a regular bottling from Aberlour, and is very reasonably priced. Taken as a whole, these elements all add up to this being a remarkable, standout whisky.

Aberlour is a Speyside distillery, located – unsurprisingly – in the town of Aberlour. The town, sometimes referred to as “Charlestown of Aberlour” (after its founder, Charles Grant), is also the home of Walker’s Shortbread, a Scottish export likely as famous a Scottish as the product of any distillery. Robin Laing considers this area the “true heart of Speyside whisky country”, as it’s also home to Macallan, Craigellachie, Benrinnes, Glenallachie, and the Speyside Cooperage.

The distillery was originally established in 1826, before being relocated and rebuilt on a nearby site in 1879. The new buildings were designed by the famous (in Scotch whisky circles) architect Charles Chree Doig, and feature the pagoda on the roof of the maltings that he is renowned for. Aberlour has undergone two expansions since then, in 1898 (after a fire) and 1973, and today produces a very healthy 3.5 million liters per year.

A few elements of their production process stand out, including:

• They only use Scottish barley, sourcing it from 3 different locations
• The malt is lightly peated, at only 2ppm
• The ABV of the spirit when it goes into casks is 69.1% (as opposed to the more common 63.5%)
• They use a high percentage of sherry casks, anywhere from 25-50%, with the remaining being bourbon casks
• They use cork bungs for their casks, as opposed to wood, which apparently requires special permission to be granted by Customs & Excise

Their use of sherry casks plays a particularly prominent role in the making of A’bunadh. “A’bunadh” means “the origin” in Gaelic, and the whisky is a tribute to James Fleming, who had rebuilt the distillery in 1879. It’s intended to represent the type of whisky that Fleming would have been familiar with back then. As such, it is a vatted bottling whose average age is relatively young (ranging from 8-15 years old). It is bottled at cask strength, is not chill-filtered, and only contains whisky from Oloroso sherry casks.

Any one of those taken independently would make for a potentially good whisky, but put them together and the end result is nothing short of wonderful. A’bunadh is, in my estimation, easily the best single-malt scotch produced as a year-round bottling in any distillery’s portfolio. What’s more, the batches are remarkably consistent, and consistently wonderful.

Tasting Notes

This is a bottle from batch #32 of Aberlour A’bunadh. It was bottled in 2010 at 60.4%.

In the glass, this whisky is a deep, rich, golden amber with long legs. The nose is wonderful, rich and room filling with notes of polish, beeswax, pears, melons, golden raisins, shortbread, and brown sugar. The palate has a soft mouthfeel, with richly sweet and buttery flavors. The spectrum is similar to the nose, with amplified intensity and power. Flavors of marzipan and oranges are thrown into the mix, as the palate bristles and hums with layers of flavor. The finish is very rich, and very long…

I don’t think there’s much more to say about this whisky. There’s a very reasonable argument to be made that it should have a permanent place on your whisky shelf. Just sayin’.

Scotch whisky never ceases to amaze, intrigue, and excite me. Over the past few months, life (i.e., our move to Portland Oregon) has intervened in a pretty significant way, and as a result my writing has diminished notably. One of those cases of my brain only being able to generate so much energy, and something having to be put aside. In this case it was writing that fell by the wayside. That’s not to say that I haven’t been lucky enough to taste some amazing beverages, and I have been taking notes and preparing to do some writing. So I still hope to revisit some of the more notable items that have crossed my lips of late.

But I digress, I was talking about scotch. During our recent trip home to see friends and family during the holidays, I had the good fortune to sample a handful of whiskies, and was struck (yet again) by the incredible diversity that scotch can embody. From a smoky, pungent whisky, to a sweet, decadent spirit, and everything in between. It’s simply remarkable stuff, and when you taste a great whisky it can really open up your eyes, relax your neurons, and elicit a very satisfied, happy “aaahhh…” from you.

Such was the case this evening. A long day at work, a long run after work, and my brain and body were feeling pretty worn out. Inspiration led me to pour a dram of this whisky from the Scotch Malt Whisky Society, and all it took to send my thoughts into reveries was raising the glass to my nose and inhaling its aroma. This is a fine, fine whisky.

Glen Elgin is a somewhat less-well-known distillery, which is somewhat surprising considering that they are owned by Diageo and are part of the Classic Malts Series (although it only became part of the series recently, when it replaced Cragganmore as the Speyside representative). Established in 1898, and built between 1898-1900 at the cost of 13000 pounds, the distillery began operations on May 1st 1900. The timing was incredibly awful though, as the famous Pattison Crash occurred right at this time, and only a year later the distillery was sold for a mere 4000 pounds. The distillery was sold again in 1907, before eventually landing in the portfolio of the Distillers’ Company Limited in 1930, after which its history has seen nothing but smooth sailing.

In 1964, the distillery was expanded from 2 to 6 stills (although one source that I’ve seen indicates that there are 7 stills – 4 wash and 3 spirit – although I’ve not seen this anywhere else as of yet), and today this configuration is used to produce a significant 1.8 million liters of whisky annually. Much of this goes into the White Horse blend, with a small amount being bottled as single malt by its owners.

Two interesting notes about the distillery:

1. It was designed by the famous architect Charles Chree Doig, who designed 56 distilleries during his career. He was the inventor of the Doig Ventilator, the iconic pagoda that adorns each of his distilleries, and which improved the malting process by drawing off the peat smoke used while drying the malt.

2. Not only did the original owners have bad timing, their planning didn’t amount to much either. The original site of the distillery was chosen for its water source and close proximity to the railway line. Unfortunately the water source proved unreliable and permission for a railway siding was ultimately refused.

Tasting Notes

This is bottling number 85.20 from the SMWS, nicknamed “Woweee!”. It’s a 10-year old whisky, aged in a refill sherry butt. 650 bottles in total were produced, with each being bottled at 60.2%.

The whisky is gold with amber highlights. The nose is bursting with notes of candied orange peels, almonds, lemon balm, milk chocolate, marzipan cream, and toasty oatmeal. The palate is rich, velvety, and unctuous, with flavors of candied red fruits, sweet citrus, and hints of smoke. The sherry aging is prominent in the mesmerizing combination of melting, fruity sweetness accompanied by chewy, savory undertones. The lingering finish is reminiscent of the nose and palates, with chocolate and fruit leaving a lasting impression.

What. A. Whisky. I simply adore the whiskies from the Society. To a T, each is so individual, unique, and brings such a presence and personality to the glass. This whisky is no exception. Wonderful stuff, a bottle I will continue to revisit even (or especially?) during the most exhausting and busy of times!

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.

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?

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).