Invergordon 25yo
The Good Spirits Co. Glasgow | 51.4% ABV
Score: 8/10
Something special.
TL;DR
Too good to be true? Nope. It’s true. For now.
Always at the coo’s tail.
Some folk are just wired differently. I seem to be surrounded by those with their fingers directly on the whisky pulse; the type who know exactly when something is about to drop, or those who know what’s great at any given moment and, crucially, where to get it.
It makes me feel as if I’m bumbling around in a haphazard, oblivious fug. Anytime I actually happen upon something great it’s because of an appreciated tip from one of those-in-the-know, or a serendipitous stumble onto something that seems too good to be true. Oftentimes though, I’ll get to it just a little too late; either the last to board the busiest of hype-trains, or I’ll witness it depart without me.
Ah well, what’s for ye won’t go by ye, as they say. In any case, my nature is far more comfortable with a nonchalant shoulder shrug and lazily leaving things to fate. I can’t lament what I made no real effort to attain, and I easily settle myself with the realisation I can’t win them all. My whisky life is strewn with cracking bottles providing the most wonderful of moments and I really can’t complain. It would be an awful thing to be sipping a delicious glass of amber only to be distracted by the things I could’ve had in the glass, if only I’d been faster, sharper or fitter.
I seem to prefer to leave the biggest spoils to those who care and those who can, reassured by the sense there’s enough for us all to be sated and settled. Whisky is an off-switch for me, I don’t want to be always ‘on’. It needs to fit around me, my other life priorities and my hapless nature. Besides, sometimes, it’s not my fault; sometimes the good stuff doesn’t make itself immediately obvious.
Many years ago, Dewar’s had just released their newly branded Craigellachie and Aultmore, I remember being struck by their retro designs; the Victorian themed labelling and the odd numbers of the Craigellachie branding and the mid-century, clean and direct but light-touch approach of Aultmore’s “Foggie Moss”. My memory is that I felt they were pricey at launch, which would no doubt be laughable today, but this was a while ago. In fact a full nine years ago. I fancied both of ‘em.
I remember because I was passing through travel retail, back when the airport selection was still interesting, and they had fantastic deals on litre bottles of both. £35 each. No joke. I bought one of each and I opened the Aultmore while I was in Spain. But, oh dear. So disappointing. It was spirity, raw and sharp to the point I got through it mixing it with soda or ginger ales, dowsing tall mixed drinks with slices of citrus. After demoting it to the role of a €10 blend, I didn’t go back. I fared better with the Craigellachie, but not much, honestly.
Fast forward to more recent years and the Craigellachie, in particular, has grown in status and, in my personal opinion, has also grown substantially in quality. There’s a little more maturity, a little more cask involvement - never too much - but it’s all the better for it. The Craigellachie 13 in particular has grown into a modern day classic. I hope you’ve discovered this already, but it’s okay if you’re at the coo’s tail because there’s lots of it around and, while it’s a lot more than £35 for a litre these days, a handsome 70cl is regularly available for around £50 or so and very worthy of your time.
I’ve had a few occasions to try the Aultmore since that holiday almost a decade ago. In fact on one occasion, I was sipping it while purring loudly, declaring my love of this delicious ‘Clynelish’. Only to discover, in my bloviation, I’d made a mistake and it was the glass of Aultmore I’d been enjoying so much. It was a club night and I had the opportunity to go back and do a double-check from the bottle dregs. Sure enough, it was Aultmore 12 in its Foggie Moss branding, and it was a cracker. Mental note made.
And yet, with so much to try and buy, it was a long time before I actually got around to securing a bottle and yes, of course, the price was also much more than the £35 I originally paid. With close to fifty sterlings handed over, I was hopeful it would deliver as much in the quieter home environs as it had in the warm glow and conviviality of the whisky club. I can tell you it very much did. Ahh… the coo’s tale again, but as long as I get there does it matter how long it takes? Well, yes, as it turns out.
Currently, Aultmore 12 year old has apparently been discontinued for most European markets and is only occasionally available internationally and from Dewar’s directly, the few that remain, that is. A day late and a dollar short, again. But at least I got to enjoy my time with a bottle and if another comes along at a decent price, I’ll be happy to consider it. As always with this, I find myself wondering if it’s the whisky that’s changed in the intervening years, or me.
In order to try and find a correlation with my own experience, I search the Whiskybase scores over the years and, if I squint and try hard, I think I might be able to force an interpretation that others have found the same improvements as me but, generally, it makes little sense. At the end of the day, we need to make of it what we will, as individuals. Perhaps that litre bottle was every bit as good as the contemporary releases, but something else put me off - where I was on my journey or where I was on the planet. Who knows? In any case, if I’d spent the intervening years buying bottle after bottle of Aultmore 12, I’d surely have missed out on lots of other amazing bottles and sips so, c’est la vie.
I now know that every time someone loudly praises Aultmore’s official distillery 12 year old, I’ll suffer a flash of guilt as I nod in agreement. However, with gritted teeth and an earnest effort to learn a lesson, I double down on my mental note-taking to be mindful; when something comes along that I sense may not last forever, I must have words with myself. A simple instruction; take action Wally, or forever hold your peace.
Which brings me to today.
I know, without any shadow of a doubt, that come a date not too far in the future, someone in my company will utter the words “Remember when we could buy a banger of a 25 year old Invergordon for £75?” In fact, it’ll probably be me. For once, I am very aware that this coo is passing, the tail is in sight, but I’m still able to move with it, for now, without fear of only walking in whatever it leaves in its wake.
Even when a good single grain bottling is discovered, perhaps under the knowledge it’s a more specialist thing with a narrower audience, it is probably celebrated less, or in tighter circles. Well, I have one here today that needs to be shouted about. Even though I have friends who’d shout back at me for letting the cat out of the bag before they had a chance to grab a back-up.
Luckily, they can’t be sure who I am. Clever Wally.
Review
Invergordon 25yo, Single grain scotch whisky, The Good Spirits Co. Glasgow, single refill hogshead, 51.4% ABV
£75 some availability, direct from GSC
Invergordon is a post-war grain distillery. Built in 1959, it was necessary to provide bulk grain whisky to its then owners Invergordon Distillers, to meet the growing demand for post-war blends. Now owned by Whyte & Mackay, it is currently the only grain distillery in operation in the Northern Highlands. Loch Lomond’s grain distillery is another Highlander, but it lies very far to the South.
Of the nine grain distilleries in operation, seven are located in the well-connected Lowlands. You may consider these plants ‘industrial-scale’ whisky production sites, capable of producing around the same alcohol lpa (litres of pure alcohol, per annum) as all 130+ scotch malt distilleries combined.There are other distilleries capable of, and in the practice of, making single grain whisky, but they are doing so in a very specific batch style and not continuously.
Today, mature single grain whisky is still, just about, affordable for most whisky botherers. However, it may not be for everyone. Usually made from wheat, but occasionally corn, it often has a sweetness and a lightness to the palate that is less appealing to those who love their malts. On occasion, it can be simple, and also reminiscent of a more solventy-style; offering notes such as nail polish and PVA glue, but also sweeter notes like bubblegum, spun sugar and other sickly notes that can keep wider interest in bottlings in check. However, like anything, it takes effort to understand and when it’s good, it can be very good, and often cheap too, relatively speaking at least.
Despite in-the-know whisky types claiming, for years, it’s the next great thing, it has always lurked in the shadow of malt. It still does.
Score: 8/10
Something special.
TL;DR
Too good to be true? Nope. It’s true. For now.
Nose
Custard creams; creamy vanilla and dairy custard. Sugar mice, creme brulée and sweet lemon. White pepper, nutty; almond and hazelnut, white chocolate and a little floral sharpness, like cider vinegar maybe, or lemon Pledge.
Palate
Yes it’s sweet, but not sickly. Creaminess hits first; lots of vanilla and a flicker of coconut, hazelnut and praline, lots of custard, lemons and apple pastries. A little cinnamon on those apples too, but the general spice is along the theme of white pepper. In the development, and through the centre of everything is a sharp spear of acidic citrus, not vinegary but pronounced and searing, it’s welcome and offsets all the sweetness nicely. It’s this jag that keeps things moreish as it cuts through an otherwise silky, coating finish. Water, just a drop or two, at first sharpens the finish, while adding more softens everything but flattens things out. A fresh pour without water restores the definition. Better. It’s like a Kinder Bueno.
The Dregs
This could be corn whisky. I believe Invergordon is one of our grain distilleries that can handle corn. Not sure, certainly not sure if it was doing so in the mid-to-late 1990s, but it makes sense, especially how this plays in the glass and on the palate.
I wrote the preamble and tasting notes in sobriety, before the epic Wales vs Scotland rugby game in Cardiff, before a spicy chicken pizza and two hazy IPAs. It’s Saturday after all, and Scotland held on for a gripping and unexpected win, that ended up feeling, oddly, like a bullet dodged. Nerves stretched, I’m back at the keyboard to revisit this dram as it’s been on my mind through it all.
I’m at first shocked to find the glass empty. I thought I’d left some airing. I smile - the moreishness and the empty glass - the best demonstrations of pure enjoyment. I pour another and, since that’s gone before I finish re-reading my own copy, I now find myself on my fifth refill. This is Danger Whisky.
In this condition I’m tempted to just go daft and claim it as a 9/10, that’s how I feel about it right now. But I know from earlier tonight I was already delighted to discover it as a comfortable 8/10; Something special. Let’s stick with that and revisit the night before this review goes live, sometime in the week ahead. If I do change it, I’ll leave these notes unedited, for context and transparency. Regardless of the final score, it really is a terrifically bright and vivid old liquid. What a privilege.
I checked how many were on the shelf when I picked this up, there were at least a dozen I’d guess, but I guarantee there are less now, when you read this. Because in between me finishing this review and it being published, I’ve claimed, at least, another one. If my sweeter-toothed side wins through, perhaps two.
I am fully aware of what I promised myself; to be aware. The tail of the coo is about to appear, and I’m gonna grab it while I can, for fear of being left with nothing more than a fond memory of what once was; delicious, creamy, sweet, bright yellow whisky, a quarter century in the making, for £75.
Remember it.
Score: 8/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. WMc
-
Dramface is free.
Its fierce independence and community-focused content is funded by that same community. We don’t do ads, sponsorships or paid-for content. If you like what we do you can support us by becoming a Dramface member for the price of a magazine.
However, if you’ve found a particular article valuable, you also have the option to make a direct donation to the writer, here: buy me a dram - you’d make their day. Thank you.
For more on Dramface and our funding read our about page here.
