Glen Scotia 25 Year Old
Whisky of the Year 2021 | 48.8% ABV
Dreams Can Come True. But Can They Hold Up To The Expectations?
I stand rigid in my kitchen. I'm unable to formulate any thoughts. I hold in my hand a small bottle of whisky with words written on the label that somehow seem unreal. This must be a mistake. You see, I arrived home today to find a small jiffy bag addressed to me, and despite it usually containing something my wife has bought off Amazon, or one of the other myriad websites she uses to get things delivered with my name on, this one was definitely for me. It could only have been for me because it looked and felt like the sort of parcel whisky samples arrive in…but I didn’t have any scheduled and hadn’t expected any to arrive.
Not to put too fine a point on it, but the whisky inside this package won Whisky of the Year 2021, and consequently doubled in price, making it a borderline sackable-from-existence offence if I even considered purchasing this whisky, no matter how much I desperately wanted to try it. You might know by now that I’m a bit of a Glen Scotia fanboi, and absolutely love Victoriana as well as their latest peaty 8yo Festival 2022 bottling. Even the Double Cask, positioned at the “entry” point of whisky, is a superb dram. Give me it all. Unless it commands five hundred big ones, in which case move on promptly please. This is what the whisky inside this little sample costs - I'm speaking, of course, about the Glen Scotia 25 Years Old: Whisky of the Year 2021.
How I’ve come to have a sample of this whisky in my kitchen is a bit of a story, but all you need to know is that it was sent to me unannounced and unrequested. Only through the increasingly rare quirk of the human condition, manifesting itself in the form of pure thoughtfulness, could this dram be in my palm today. This is not whisky you typically send to folk unless you’re getting something quite magnificent in return, but here it is, without warning, sitting on my table. I’m pressing the point because I’ve thought about this whisky for a long while and it’s arrived here in a puff of jiffy bag smoke and I don’t know what to do about it. I want to hug the sender and say thanks, but we barely know each other - which is another incredulity. I’ve met this person once and it was virtually.
The last time I thought about this whisky was in August 2021, after I’d found Glen Scotia through the 15 year old, followed by the Victoriana, then the bloody stoater of a single cask, the Callander Drinks Co. special. My admiration for Glen Scotia was maximum, and in the preceding months I’d checked out the 25 year old with intent - it was a not inexpensive £250, but I fancied it. However I didn't think I’d appreciate it properly given my immature palate, so I let it pass, vowing to return to it when I felt I could really enjoy it (and had saved enough to warrant the outlay). Well, I blew it, didn’t I? Because after the accolade, the whisky doubled in price and I got all tantrumy and stomped about for a bit. The opportunity to try the 25 was available recently through a Glen Scotia dunnage tasting pack, purchasable on their website, but despite all the other drams in the 5 dram set all being 25ml, the 25 year old was 12.5ml, and I don’t know about you but that is just not enough data to go on. It would touch the lips and evaporate, or I’d skitter it down my t-shirt. The 25yo as a viable option, therefore, was gone for me. Until today.
Review
2021 bottling, 25 years old, 48.8% ABV
£500, available online and via Glen Scotia directly
Instead of placing it on my shelf to gather dust, waiting for the day I feel special enough to open it, I’ve bucked the Dougie trend and cracked it open the very same day it arrived. It follows after a set of 3 Cadenhead’s Tasting samples that came as part of a 6-dram set, including a 45yo Petite Champagne Cognac from Distillerie Charpentier, a Bimber 4yo and an Ardmore 10yo Pino Noir cask - all decadent, rare-as-feck drams. It’s good company, therefore, to have a 4th wee lick of this 25yo Whisky of the Year 2021, and I feel suitably lubricated to do it justice. As Wally often says, you can’t go cold into these types of drams.
I tentatively, but accurately, pour a little into my stemmed glass and look at it for a moment - this is a moment I’ve thought about for a while. I get it - this isn’t the world’s most expensive whisky or the world’s most sought after either (Springbank 12CS FYI obvs), nor is it really all that big a deal in the grand scheme of things - it’s just whisky after all. It’ll go through my face end, down amongst my jumbled mass of thickly insulated body parts and out the other, more spicy end. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? We all have whiskies that we cross paths with, and affix to our internal “whiskies I’d love to try one day” pinboard, right? Well mine was Glen Scotia 25yo, and here it is now before me in my glass, so forgive me if I’m weeping in an unbroken line of salty tears onto my keyboard.
Nose
Very subtle and mineral - light lime zest with hints of toffee sweets in there. For some reason the vision of a late evening fairground walk is popping into my head - fresh coastal air with intermittent gusts of candyfloss, caramelised nuts and salted chips; all are present here but quick to move on. A damp wooden shed, creosote and flutter of smokiness. The mineral note returns and it feels cyclical.
Palate
A little delay, face shock, and then a bold punchy varnished wood furniture flavour washes completely over me. Wow. An old wooden toolbox found in an army surplus shop - musty and old. Wow. Bold, unequivocally old varnished wooden toys - old. This is rather incredible, it’s almost like I can taste the cask through the medium of liquid whisky. Oaky, spicy and, eventually, sweet. Old. Sucking an old pencil. Old. There’s caramel stuff in the background and some general almondy fruitiness, but nothing beats the overwhelming wood note.
A second tasting a few days later reveals a bit less of the wood influence and more uniform, musty perfume notes. I take the small sample bottle with me to Ireland, sailing, and a week on from my second tasting the old wood note has receded, but hasn’t been replaced in any way with something as potent. It’s light, floral and generally musty.
The Dregs
I’ve tasted things tonight that I’ve never tasted before in whisky. It’s incredible to me, to think that a simple set of ingredients - barley, water and yeast - can sit in wooden casks and come out tasting of something so unique that it takes a moment to process what it is you’re actually tasting.
The big takeaway here is that the nose of this Whisky of the Year 2021 is incredibly subtle, deft and fleeting. It pivots from one subtle note to the next - green citrus peel, to sweet, nutty and salty, to mineral pebbles and fresh sea air. Then back to citrus and so on. But the palate contrasts with hugely potent, old musty wood. Visceral mind’s-eye pictures of old wooden toys and abandoned derelict houses giving in to the years of damp neglect. Chewing on an old pencil, and other old wooden things. It’s powerful mental imagery brought to the surface through this quite remarkable spirit. I force myself to open a new browser tab and see what Glen Scotia makes of it, and what I read is a bit rudimentary “Coastal air, red apple and tangy orange peel with vanilla syrup and caramel sweetness.”
Every sip I take is another rapid deployment of mental imagery - a sea-battered lighthouse; the lightkeeper in his study writing his diary for the day on a flaking varnished wooden bureau by the gloomy flicker of oil lamp light. Ink spills and rough-edged papers. Another sip - a damp bookshop that’s been put up for let, selling all its old volumes of obscure poetry and rare Scottish wildlife annuals. Another sip - an old scout hall store-room with the plastic canoes and rusty crampons. All of these memories feature old, decaying wood.
I have to say that, despite my abject excitement at finally trying what could easily be described as a grail whisky for me (at this point, anyway), this isn’t what I thought it would be. I expected an extension of the Glen Scotia’s I’ve already tried - the Victoriana, 15yo, Double Cask, Single Casks and samples of various festival bottlings. Like those beautiful spirits, but more elegant, more refined or more…more; the final decree of what Glen Scotia should be. Yet this is nothing like I expected - it’s nothing in the realms of what I expected. It feels like I’m conversing with the oak vessel within which this spirit sat, sleeping, for all that time. It’s like I’m tasting the very fabric of that aged oak; battered and damp, dusty and dormant. It’s magical. It’s surprising. It’s unsettling and magnificent. I’ve never tasted anything like it.
However, would I say it’s a whisky that sets me ablaze? Would I put this in the same realms as my recent Benromach flavour tour-de-force experience? Would I say that it’s as gorgeously flavourful as the Victoriana or as potently decadent as the Callander Drinks Co 11yo? Does it resonate with me as all these other utterly beautiful whiskies have and is something I think you absolutely must try?
The answer is no. It’s fascinating and beautifully evocative, but as a whisky to make me pang for the next pour, it’s not quite there. A novelty - not in the cheap toy meaning that the word “novelty” seems to have taken on in common parlance, but as a quirk outside of the expected norm. I think it’s a very, very engaging dram, but not one I’d long to return to day in, day out forever. I’m blown away by this as a smell and taste experience, for being so unique. I feel completely in awe of whisky as a medium to deliver surprisingly visceral emotional experiences, like this one. But as a Whisky of the Year 2021, at £500 retail, I think it’s just shy of being something truly special. It’s a bit too uniform, a bit too singular on the palate - I’m not chasing old dusty, damp wood notes in my whisky, and I don’t gush at finding them either; for half of one thousand pounds Sterling, I think it has to provide a bit more than just the shocking potency of one flavour seam. After many further pours, the whisky does shift away from the musty profile quite a bit, and perhaps if I had a 30 year old whisky palate, I’d be gushing over this no-end…perhaps. But the fact remains: I’m not savouring this; it’s more an intrigue about the apparent bridge between me and the wood that this whisky was stored in.
I am, to be honest, relieved - I’ll not forget this experience, this whisky or this point in my whisky journey, but I can rest easier knowing I’ll never need to continue this journey with the purchase of a full bottle. I can move on knowing I’ve tried it, loved the experience but found it wasn’t the be all and end all of whiskies. An important chapter of my whisky journey has come to a close and I’m so much more learned as a result - if only to say that you should never expect anything in a whisky. For that and the other reasons set out above, I cannot reasonably go higher than a solid, very, very worthy score of 7 out of 10, even if the temptation is there to award this an extra point just for being so damned memorable.
Thank you for the sample, Julie. You are a legend.
Score: 7/10 DC
Main image credit Glen Scotia
Gallie’s Review
I have to admit – this is my first-ever Glen Scotia. I’m lucky enough to have tried a few malts from the other elusive Campbeltown distilleries, but this one has so far eluded me!
Nose
The first thing I notice is a concentrated sweetness, like a juicy, fragrant peach. That was not what I expected. Contrasting with that freshness is a slight synthetic note of varnish (not unpleasant). At first, this whisky bites in the nose like the briskest of sea breezes, then it settles down to become slightly salty and mineral. I am also thinking of lemon & honey cough sweets. After all this sweetness, the lurking savouriness increases over time, becoming almost like chicken broth. Then, dark caramel makes an appearance. I am certainly intrigued.
Palate
Okay, this is quite herbal. There’s a floral quality, like violets. It therefore reminds me of schnapps, grappa, even limoncello – that kind of thing. The mineral note is very reminiscent of a white wine on the palate – maybe a Riesling – and that gives the ‘coastal’ impression Glen Scotia is so keen to give. It’s still sweet, with a fennel-like finish which lingers significantly.
The Dregs
Even the empty glass smells unusual with this one: a bit cinammony, but also a bit butyric. Having little to compare this whisky to, I followed it with a few first sips of 10-year-old Glen Scotia, another sample I had on hand. It was strikingly different: all creamy, lactic new make-y vibes with notes of strawberry, yoghurt and honey. The comparison really brought out the 25 year old’s dryness and age. The latter really is quite nice, with the lightness and weirdness I tend to be drawn to. However, as Dougie says, it’s perhaps not half a thousand pounds’ worth of nice (at least not on my current budget!).
Score: 7/10 GM
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. DC