The first thing we noticed about this was that it clocked in at 58% after thirteen years. “Boy, that Sherry butt is a tight drum!” was one initial comment, which I shall graciously leave unattributed. We found tons of banana on the nose, but not just any banana: rather, it’s a plastic banana designed to be heavily bruised with a squeak toy built into one end. That was not what Capt. Picard was expecting when he asked the computer to produce a snack. There were also notes of mango, a little cherry, fresh linens, and kiwi slices strewn about everywhere. As we nosed it, John got a happy, faraway look in his eye as he imagined this dram as a boozed up, all natural juice for an ecumenical vegan office party to which he’d been invited at the last minute.
The mouth does not clearly present as Oloroso, but rather as spicy, hot, big, (please do not Google those latter descriptors, especially not together in that order) and generally funkless. With that description, you might think it’s Joe Manganiello, but it’s much better than that. It’s also drying, though, inducing a hydrophobia in each of us. And of course, for each of us, it took a different form. John left the table and started to sidle up to his industrial-strength, whole-house dehumidifier. Bill’s led him to sip from his water glass, as opposed to his usual glorping (his was an especially mild case). For me, it took the form of a momentary and fleeting rabidity. Despite our differences, we all loved it.
The finish is long and fires especially on the back of the palate, where bitterness lies, but which is now replaced, now clear as if it had undergone a rigorous course of Scientology auditing. Now I can finally throw out that old E-Meter–thank the stars! What’s left in its place is all the richness of Penuche fudge, but without the fatness of the butter therein.
–Our thanks to Single Cask Nation for the sample!