Posted on May 3rd, 2012 in Other Life
Ah, the simple pleasures. I have for some time enjoyed a drop of the old single malt, but have done so in a pretty scattergun fashion. So I figured that it was time to take things to the next level and remove all the fun from the business by really starting to identify what I like and what I don’t, hence:
I had inherited an old bottle of Macallan from my grandad (1960 vintage), and thought it would be kind of worthless. Imagine my surprise when I was able to trade it for a dozen serious bottles of scotch and still have some change left over! So, from Islay – Ardbeg Corryvreckan, Bruichladdich Infinity. From the Highlands, just a Dalmore 15. From the Islands, a Talisker 18 and a Highland Park 18, from the Lowlands, a Bladnoch 20 and an Auchentoshan 3 Wood. From Speyside, an AnCnoc 16, Longmorn 16, Balvenie Single Barrel, Aberlour 18, and a Glenfarclas 21.
The differences in packaging and presentation always amuse me, I must say. Look at the Bruichladdich (second from the left) in a can and with information technology type jargon on it – they so modern! Look at the mid-80s gentleman’s club styling of the Glenfarclas (third from right) – they so traditional! The plucky folks at Bladnoch couldn’t afford a marketing consultant so they just used an old milk-bottle and stuck the label on with spit. The Longmorn on the far right has had a fancy relaunch and hence sports some truly ludicrous packaging, with articulated magnetic box and leather footed bottle. Really. Cos I often find when I put the bottle down the jarring impact is most upsetting and I think to myself – I don’t care what it tastes like, what I really want is a whisky whose bottle-bottom is somehow softened for my added convenience. THEN I’ll feel like I’ve arrived.
If anyone’s interested in hearing more about this self-indulgent voyage into my own navel, let me know. I’m not really a tasting notes kind of guy, but I may well pair them up and compare them in a grudge match styley, a blood-sport tournament of whiskies in which there can be only one winner…
Or, if no one’s interested (and I wouldn’t blame you), maybe I’ll just drink ’em in contemplative silence.