Whenever I tell people I'm an aspiring single malt scotch enthusiast, I usually get one of four responses:
1. I like scotch too, especially Bushmills on the rocks.
2. Ick, no thank you! Here, have you ever tried Fireball?
3. Sir, you can't drink that in here.
4. That was my grandfather's drink.
The first one is in the ballpark at least. I can always engage in conversation about the differences between scotch and Irish whiskey, single malts and blends, and maybe trying it without the ice next time. I don't bother explaining myself to the Fireball crowd.
It's that last one that makes me smile. The joke's on you though, your grandfather was a bigger bad ass than you'll ever be (one of mine was a bronco rider, the other a Korean War vet). Just maybe he knew a few things you don't. The implication though is that scotch is somehow fundamentally linked with all things old.
Some of that might be a fair assessment, and not just because of golf. Generally speaking, scotch gets better with age. Older distilleries typically enjoy more respect and inspire reverence for tradition. In 2002, Glenfiddich commissioned an oft-quoted study which found the average age of a scotch drinker was "52 and rising" (although in 2010, Balvenie's brand ambassador Sam Simmons put that number at "a mere 35"). Either way, it's not exactly what the college kids are swilling at tailgate parties.
I'm a Gen Xer somewhere in that 35-52 demographic, and am very much at peace with my drink of choice not being the height of hipness among the skinny jeaned masses. Marketing firms drool over that 18-29 age group, but recently I tasted a single malt whose distillers are bucking that trend. It almost seemed like they were going out of their way to appeal to the elder statesman. In fact, this might just be your grandfather's whisky.
Full Disclosure: I cannot be 100% certain exactly which expression I am reviewing. The bartender handed me a small taster glass and said simply, "This one's my favorite, it's from Dalmore". I never got to press him for details, and at the time I assumed it was Dalmore 12. Then I went to do research for this post, and couldn't reconcile my experience with others' descriptions of the dessert sweet, orangy 12. Based on the unique flavor profile and reviews of others, I am 93% sure I was given a taster of Dalmore Cigar Malt Reserve.
The malt itself is startlingly dark. Spending years in an oloroso sherry cask is capable of turning a golden malt into a rich amber, but this goes beyond that. Besides the bourbon and sherry casks, the malt is 'finessed' with cru Cabernet Sauvignon wine barriques. Deep reddish brown, practically bourbon colored. Swirling it around, it appears creamy and thick, leaving long, tan legs (gams?) trailing down the bulb. It has the look of a much older malt, not some towheaded whipper-snapper whisky.
Just like your grandfather, the Dalmore Distillery has a few stories. Established in 1839 in Inverness (the hub of Loch Ness tourism), this northern Highland distillery was the first in Scotland to export whisky to Australia (is that why there is a Dalmore township in Victoria?). Thanks to its proximity to the North Sea, the Royal British Navy used the facility during World War I for the production of sea mines, (surprise!) ultimately destroying the original distillery. More recently, as a publicity stunt that would make Macallan blush, a bottle of Dalmore 62 was purchased at a Singapore airport for $200,000 in 2012, a world record at the time.
Before my nose even reaches the lip of the glass, strong aromas start popping off. Tobacco leaves, like a newly unwrapped cigar waft in first. Freshly ground coffee; the Cafe Du Monde brand from New Orleans comes to mind with its chicory flavor. Dry campfire smoke. Once my nose gets firmly planted inside the glass, the aroma of rustic leather overtakes the others. Then it suddenly occurs to me...this whisky smells like a cowboy.
The sherry is readily apparent in the palate. Cream sherry perhaps? I can't shake the idea of an orange cream soda flavor for some reason. I always look for spicy and nutty flavors when sherry casks are involved, I'd have to say pecans in this case. Spice is not really jumping out at me. Malty and surprisingly sweet given the savory nature of the aromas. Come to think of it, where did all those aromas go? What happened to the smoke?
The finish brings it all back. Tobacco, leather, smoke, espresso. all those old rustic flavors come roaring back right at the end and linger a full minute. I don't know that I've experienced a malt whose aromas and finish were so incongruous with the major flavors on the palate. Anyway, its the bookend aromas and flavors that stand out for me, the middle was pretty average.
One of my grandfathers worked for Tony Lama and had leather boots, belts, and duster jackets in every room of the house. He also wore a ten gallon Stetson and chewed tobacco constantly. My paternal grandparents drank coffee like Juan Valdez was coming at any moment to take it all away, and always kept a it roaring fire in the hearth year-round. All these smells are inextricably reminiscent of my grandparents for me, and to experience them so vividly in a the bouquet of a malt whisky was both comforting and surreal. As far as pairing with a cigar though, I'm just going to take their word for it.
Overall Grade: 86/100, solid B
No comments:
Post a Comment