GLEN GARIOCH 1994 'BATCH 32'

I had two very different whisky experiences last weekend. Friday, I brought home a bottle of Hibiki Japanese Harmony, a product of the Suntory group (Yamazaki, Hakushu). Its moniker should've clued me in it was a blend, but perched amid the top shelf single malts, I assumed it was one too. Superb balance, delicate citrus and floral notes, elegant and light. Not my favorite whisky archetype, but I did enjoy tasting it. However, I am completely flummoxed when it comes to its appreciation. Malt and grain whiskys from three distilleries finished in five different types of casks? No way I can pick that apart.

It was the other whisky that got me really excited anyway. In previous posts (particularly the last one), I've made some disdainful generalizations regarding the brands owned by Morrison Bowmore (itself, a subsidiary of Suntory). True, I find Auchentoshan to be a watery bore of a malt, Bowmore the only scotch I've ever actually hated, and McClelland's to be no more than a marketing ploy aimed at bottom shelf shoppers. Glen Garioch I had never tried.

Motivated by something in between benefit of the doubt and morbid curiosity, I decided I needed to taste Morrison Bowmore's Highland representative, Glen Garioch (glen GEE-ry). The 12 year old core expression is aged in both bourbon and sherry casks, bottled at 48% ABV, gets good-to-great reviews, and reasonably affordable. Starting out with low expectations, I admit this is starting to sound promising.

The bartender was having a hard time locating the bottle, eventually calling the owner on the phone to inquire about it. I was ready to implement Plan B, Strathisla 12, when he suddenly reappeared with bottle in hand, never before opened. The density of golden color pouring into the bulb was remarkable. Legs like an MMA fighter. This is solid looking whisky.

I was about to put glass to nose when the bartender picked up the bottle to put it back. I caught sight of a year, 1994, printed on the label and asked to see it. Sure enough, this was not Glen Garioch 12, but a vintage expression, Glen Garioch 1994 'Batch 32'. I looked back at the menu - only the 12, yet the label clearly reads "Distilled 1994, Bottled 2011". Maybe it's that damned 'new math' I keep hearing about, but wouldn't that be...17 years?

The Glen Garioch Distillery was mothballed from 1995-1997, and upon reopening began purchasing outsourced malt. The barley from this 1994 batch (#32, I assume?) was malted in-house on the distillery's own floor just before the shutdown, and considerably peatier than any of its current offerings. Matured for 17 years, solely in American oak bourbon casks, no caramel color, no chill filtration, and bottled at cask strength 53.9%(!), this malt was essentially left alone for 17 years, no manipulation whatsoever once it left the stills. Eureka...this might be just what I've been looking for!

Stylistically, my favorite malts tend to be either of the hearty full-bodied Highland variety or medium-to-heavy peat Islay/Island whisky. This one has a tent in both camps. Right off the bat, the nose hit me with a toasty wallop of maltiness. A distinct creaminess was apparent, almost like a buttery mascarpone. A touch of honey sweetness, gingerbread cookies and floral notes in the background, but certainly nothing overpowering. A respectable amount of peat (~15 ppm if I had to guess) gained strength as I let the dram sit a few minutes, more of an earthy smokiness than any medicinal iodine character. The oak aroma though, that stayed with me long after I put down the glass.

Fruit showed up on the palate - ripe apricots or peaches, nectarines perhaps. A rich vanilla note may have been the source of that creamy aroma, yet the texture was oilier than I expected from its appearance. A touch of peppery spice added a slight bite. The smoke came through more so than the peat itself, but with elegant restraint. The earthy notes are a nice complement to its initial sweetness. That high ABV barely registers on the palate. Every flavor seems perfectly integrated.

The maturity of this full-bodied malt was the true star of the palate though. You can taste all of its 17 years. I've only tasted a handful of older malts, but all of those had spent time in sherry casks, this single cask malt is a first for me. Imagine yourself at Buckhead's after your first bite of a dry-aged, grass-fed, bone-in wagyu filet, done a perfect medium rare. Patience, simplicity, and craftsmanship make an incalculable difference in quality. Or...maybe you prefer Outback.

The finish had a lingering ethereal smokiness. All that extra cask strength ethanol veered towards a comfortable warming sensation rather than a drying bitter note. The oak flavor sang for minutes on end, long after I'd paid the check. Damn that was some great scotch!

I still can't speak for Glen Garioch 12 though. The Vintage 1994 comes from a bygone era of the distillery, so I can't assume the two are anything alike. I'm starting to feel guilty about the dram switcheroo and decide to let the bartender know. Least I could do. He looked a little spooked when I told him, but insisted the owner told him what to pour, so I guess we're both off the hook.

Glen Garioch 1994 'Batch 32' should satisfy any single malt scotch whisky purist. Malting and peating barley in-house to its own specifications, then simply letting it sit undisturbed in one cask for 17 years. Less is definitely more in this case. No artificial color, no chill filtration, no watering down the ABV, no bullshit. This is hands down new favorite Highland malt.

Overall Grade: 97/100, A+


p.s. This was also my 50th single malt scotch review (plus a few oddballs thrown in), and I wouldn't have gone ape over this rock star malt nearly as much without experiencing the previous 49. I'm starting to feel like I halfway know what I'm talking about, perhaps finally shaking off my 'newbie' status. I now get more excited about appreciating the inner workings of my dram as opposed to simply enjoying one. Plus, 50 seems like a nice round number, and I wanted to end on a high note. By no means do I intend to stop seeking out new single malt experiences; however, my whole purpose of blogging my "adventures of a scotch newbie in Richmond, VA" feels like it's run its course. For now at least...

Thanks, Richmond!
- Mr. Thirsty

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