What a venerable whisky this is, a fitting crown to the Familia Glenfarclii. Bill remembers drinking this at the Bow Bar in Edinburgh. He kept his notes on a folded-up placemat and I now quote from them: “A Russian babushka doll, holding an Egyptian canopic jar, enclosing a Han dynasty vase, stuffed with an old lemon chewed with studied diffidence by a capybara.” Well, we get the lemon right on the nose. But also a curious cheese note, perhaps a Grana Padano?
The mouth wins best in show. Really soft and balanced and rich and deep. A well that returns buckets of manna, deep in the land of milk and honey. Lightly spiced and just balanced.
Finish is long and delicate and just perfect. I am standing in front of the Food Truck of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. And I am tempted. A serpent whispers in my ear the precise flavor spectrum that runs through the Glenfarclas family. I hear him clearly but, as if in a dream, my effort to repeat the words results in inarticulate mumbles. At the end of this string of nonsense I say “…it’s like intelligent design.” [Stephen: “I don’t follow.”] [Bill: “You have to be intelligent to understand the design.”] Cursed like Cassandra, I can only nod and look down at my hands folded in my lap.
The Glenfarclas 25 is Everything in its Right Place by Joseph Almog–I think it is safe to say that this Glenfarclas not only has everything in its right place, but puts everything in its right place as well.