The eponymous wood-staved, easily rolled vessels here are part of a brilliant marketing campaign aimed, in this case, at the U.S. market: In celebration of its 125th anniversary, Glenfiddich rolled 11 new American oak casks through major cities in the U.S., encouraging folks to inscribe their dreams on the outside of the casks as they did. Then Glenfiddich civil-unioned (given that it’s an election year, we thought it better to
be politically correct be politically neutral take the most ridiculously contrived “middle position” possible throw a funny word in there) a range of whiskies, each aged at least 14 years in American oak, for three months in the aforementioned dreamy casks. With a full retail price of $119, John suggested they rename it “Cask of Penury,” but then I pointed out that one can easily find it for less than that–at the moment at least–and that if he didn’t have so many different alimony payments to make, perhaps he would be able to afford some finer whiskies.
On the nose, there’s the classic Glenfiddich (or “G-Fidd” as it’s known in our ‘hood) signature, perhaps even the specific variant of it found in the G-Fidd 15 year-old Solera Reserve. Then, after a moment, that signature becomes a veritable sledgehammer of oak, followed, improbably enough, by notes of fig newtons and honey slides atop lemon poppyseed muffins…topped with rainbow sprinkles. The G-Fidd signature is prominent on the mouth, too. [Bill: Word that, dawg] But other flavors play here as well, like those of eucalyptus cupcakes with tarragon and a little sage, lovingly crafted by the fat fingers of a Bavarian baker named Hans, an acupuncture session employing pine needles, a lemon artillery shell landing on the tongue, and perhaps a simple sachet of bouquet garni. [Bill: The lemon is honeyed. No, it’s the zest, and my tongue is a microplane grater… John: That’s what she said. Me: Hopefully she didn’t say that. Now do you mind? I need to finish this review!] The mouth is lovely–you can almost hear it whispering, as it surely did to the G-Fidd crew: “If you bottle it, they will come.” [Bill: And if you drink it, you will, too.] On the finish, there’s cinnamon extract and hints of wine that rich, somewhat bored foodies decided to make at the Crushpad after scoring some proprietary barbera grapes in Napa. And the finish is beautifully
balanced–so much more balanced than any of my dreams seem to be. In short, this is a true reference malt, complete with a deckled edge, vellum binding, and marbled end paper. You’ll want to come back to it again–you know, just for reference.
The Glenfiddich Cask of Dreams is G-Fidd–In this case, the name is so good, it just might stick and eventually work its way into popular consciousness. Or at least we hope so. And it’s certainly better than the street name for Dalwhinnie (D-Whine). And it’s also better than Cú Dhub (Q-Doo)–but then again, what isn’t? Word to yo mutha.
–Our thanks to Mitch Bechard and Katie Han and the good people at Glenfiddich for the sample!