Small Island Boy was up to his tricks again, this time with some brilliant whisky. He gave us two Balvenies versus two Bruichladdichs (kind of) and then finished off with that ne plus ultra for whisky-twitchers, a bottling from a deceased distillery.
It was a hellish cold night in Partick, but after the tasting I found myself to be quite comfortable sans jacket. More to the point, all the next day I was clad two layers lighter than usual saying to myself from within my cereal glow, "uisge beatha truly is the water of life" - I really have to tell you, whisky fires you up and gets you going, it fires and inspires me, all hail the acrospire!
Whoops... slightly carried away there. For your convenience: acrospire defined. Things not any clearer? Just ask SIB, for he is the Man Who Knows.
The whiskies:
Bruichladdich 1993 recioto cask finish versus Balvenie 1993 Port wood
I liked the nosefeel of the Laddie - kinda velvety - but the Balvenie won this bout, by virtue of its relaxed mellowtude and digestive biscuit finish.
Port Charlotte 5 year old versus Balvenie 14 year old roasted malt
I suppose the malt one might imagine regularly sipping, of all tonight's offerings, would be this Balvenie, for its easy character, and especially for the hint of honey-dipped cigars it occasionally offers. Yet the winner here was the PC5. Freshness, that full on Islay Wow! character that first drew me to malt whisky, or just the complexity in the glass. Or all three...
the Brora 30 year old scored highest for the night (4 - 5: excellent - astonishing) and brought me a new organoleptic experience : the scent of lilies. Only once, and fleetingly, but lilies. From malt whisky. There were other things, perhaps less desirable. Cowbyres. Sunwarmed animals. Seabirds. Leaves - mouldering ones. Caboc (also know as 'Here, this butter is past the sell by date. I know! Let's repackage it as cheese')
A great night. Thanks, SIB. Thanks, 'B'.
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