This whisky was one of fourteen that I sneaked into and out of India in March 2008.
I opened it not much later but never got around to writing about it.
As you know Glenmorangie is one of the widely available and famous brands of single malts around. The wood finishes such as this are regularly available but rarely appreciated.
Okay, now that I have bored you, let’s talk about the whisky.
I had a long day today and was looking forward to getting into bed early tonight after dinner. After eons of futility I don’t know why I don’t give up this dream of sleeping early.
Since sleep wasn’t forthcoming, I decided to read. Easy reading was the agenda and my choice was the labels on my whisky collection.
As I opened my bar and stared in, there was this green tube of Glenmorangie staring at me.
Lottery won. It got picked. Automaticaly. Unanimously.
I open the lid and pull the bottle of Scotland’s most famous malt out. My wife compare’s the way I remove my whisky bottles to the way a curator would remove an aged scroll from its tubular storage space.
Anyway, so this little treasure is in my hand and the colour of the liquid inside is very dark. Dare I say as dark as a slightly watered Coke. It somehow also has some lees at the bottom that I seem to have disturbed.
As I open the cork, the urge is uncontrollable. I’m sorry its my fetish to take that whiff as soon as I uncork a single malt. Its so strong a scent that the sensation is something between a burn and a tickle inside your nose.
I pour the mandatory dram into my favourite glass and watch the lees float around. I add some water and it transforms. It becomes a greeny gold coloured liquid. Gold indeed.
The nose is still strong and a little musty like an old leather suitcase.
The body lacks the promise the brand potrays. It feels, to me, very dry and peppery. Like a cider more than a whisky. Then it gets worse. Grainy. Sandy. Gritty.
The palate is a cross between sunflower seeds and whole nuts. It is sweet but still spicy. The tip of my tongue tingles. The madeira never made it anywhere till the end. You just about get a fleeting hint of it.
The finish is short. Shorter than Danny De Vito. Honest. Its rough, its tough, but it just ain’t got character.
Under different circumstances, I may have enjoyed this whisky, but it’s definitely not nightcap material.
My mouthwash packs more punch than it’s name suggests. I’m going to try some now and try and sleep too. If only I could stop my tongue tingling..
Originally posted by me on facebook, Thursday, 18 December 2008 at 21:34