On this, the third day, we carry on the March of the Glenfarclas, with this the Third Movement, blah blah blah Mahler. [John: You don’t have to get pissy just because you were outvoted on your March of the Penguins joke.] [Bill: Yeah, you didn’t have anything close to Third Movement–just your cries of “Tuck the egg! Tuck the egg!”–which is lame, and you know it.] Fine, my fellow flightless friends, fine. The nose opens with notes of model glue and manky, moldy fruit. A marionette made from Bing cherries flying up out of Crater Lake, only to picked apart mid-air by ravenous bald eagles. [Bill: Mixed species metaphor? Have you no shame?] The mankiness burns off the nose as quickly as the eagles dispatch the marionette. Then it settles into a citrusy, creamy note that is worth hanging out with for a while.
The mouth is hot and fiery with explosive potential. Firebender: The Beginner, written by Notta Nuff Burncream and Crispy J. McCharralot. It’s also simultaneously fruity and savory, like getting a plum to consider becoming a prune. Or a 30-ton steel press after crushing a palate of pineapples and three barrels of green olives for an episode of “You Put What in the Tapenade?!?”
The finish runs down the sides of the tongue, tickling the umami centers, or maybe whacking them with coat hangers: Umami Dearest. There’s also notes of peanut brittle made with cayenne and those round, red-skinned peanuts. Its specific gravity is indecisive, but somewhere between cloying and thick. It’s expansive and ambitious at the same time: buying brand new steel-belted radials that are certified for five seasons (“These go to five seasons”). The finish is like having all of the movie Boyhood flash before your eyes in fifteen minutes. And it’s still really moving.
The Glenfarclas 12 is God’s making the dry land and then populating it with all sorts of plants–Pretty impressive overall, and foundational for what will follow. But we non-vegans are left still waiting for bacon.