-Hiya. I’d like a really old Clynelish with a much younger Clynelish chaser.
-Well, if you’d like that, you’d really love this whisky instead. It’s got dark jam, like from an exotic fruit, on the nose, along with slices of green apples hung from fishhooks over smoking kippers adorned with bright pineapple blossoms.
-So you’re saying that on the nose it’s the equivalent of a goiter on a blooming poplar tree?
-Aye, if someone had nailed pineapple rings to the tree first.
-But here’s the kicker: the mouth is a total departure from the nose. It’s ginormous. It’s the transfiguration that alchemy was supposed to do, but in your mouth.
-Is it peated?
-There’s peat in there, but it’s really anodyne, in the best possible way.
-“Anodyne,” as in “not likely to provoke dissent or offense” or as in “a painkilling drug or medicine”?
-Which do you think, given that I said “in the best possible way”?
-The first one?
-Maybe you’re not up for this kinda dram.
-No, no! I’m sorry. So you’re saying it’s like a muscular bodyguard in a perfectly fitted dinner jacket that hides his guns?
-Aye, you’re back with me, then. It’s a waxy beast on the mouth, but it’s woody and flowery and all kinds of beautiful, too. Imagine a 2×4 of teak lumber that’s begun to flower, so someone coated the whole thing in remelted wax from the seals of the letters of star-crossed lovers, you know, to preserve it as a mantelpiece.
-Do you have any granola?
-FOCUS, son! Actually, now that you mention it, there are notes of granola on the mouth as well.
-Does it have some spiciness, though? Your description so far has me hankering for some spice in the bargain.
-You prognosticated the finish, son! Well done. It finishes salty and flinty at first, but then the finish blossoms into a mulled wine from an East India Company captain’s chest. It’s staggering in its monumentality. The finish is not a temple, but a mountain, not a mountain, but a soul mountain, not a soul mountain, but a soul train. SOOOOOOOUUUUUUUULLLLLLL TRAAAAAAAAIIIINNNN!!!
-Are you quite alright, man?!?
-Erm, sorry. Aye, I’m fine. So what do you think? Want to try it? It’s actually only a three year old.
-No way! I’ll happily take that! How much is it?
-That’ll be 50 quid per shot.
–On the scale of fictional bartenders–
The Compass Box Three Year Old Deluxe is Sam Malone from Cheers–Dashing and suave with the ladies, he’s much more attractive than Moe Syzslak from The Simpsons, and in no way creepy like Lloyd from The Shining. The biggest difference between our man Sam and this dram? The Compass Box Three Year Old Deluxe has serious depth.
–Our thanks to Compass Box for the sample!