A side story about my favorite distillery. Unfortunately the Corona Crazy closed its doors prior to my ability to do a little tasting. The Bruichladdich distillery on the island of Islay, Scotland, closed its doors in the early 1990s. The newest owners bought the distillery and reopened the place in 2003. Quickly becoming the largest employer on the island. Its situated on the Western side of Islay, which is significantly less populated than the Eastern side with the bustling one-stop-light town of Bowmore.
Upon reopening, the new owners were looking through the wear-houses and noticed dozens of barrels, in the back, dusted over. Turns out there was aging whisky left behind. This whisky has finally been opened. And when checked, a few bottles were pulled—for quality assurance. Well on this tiny island, where everyone knows someone, bottles disappear. Later this year Bruichladdich will be releasing special, post thirty year aged whisky, at about a thousand or more U.S. dollars.
Kindly enough, when we pulled up to the distillery, a nice woman came running out with a small 200 millimeter bottle of the Classic Laddie for our troubles. Well the vacation goes on, and the amount of whiskies tasted continue to climb, not so unlike the cases of Corona—a pun probably made too soon.
We have managed to make a few friends given the forced extension to our stay. Specifically the owners of a farm on the Western side of the island. Humorously, to prove how small of an island, Islay can be. Our first, and almost our only, distillery tour was at Kilchoman just across the loch that sits in front of Ballinabby. Well we arrive and are the only tourists for the day. A nice young Scotswoman and a Frenchman provide the tour. About half way through, she asks where we are staying on the island.
« Ballinabby » we reply in the worst pronunciation possible.
« Wait, where? » she responds « No, thats where I live… »
Following the tour, all of the distilleries got together to decide as a group to shut their doors. This decision would change our day to day plans as we transitioned from day drinking to day hiking and night time drinking. The next place we visited post universal closure was Jura. A more barren rock you will not find. Thankfully, although no tasting were allowed, a free dram for each, made the visit a partial tasting of their best pulls. We purchased our second travel bottle of the trip and headed home.
We would become concerned that without the distilleries we would run out of whisky. Thankfully, with the help of our new found friends we were able to get their daughter to perform a small miracle (one of three from this family). She was then able to procure bottles for us from Kilchoman, in support of a much more isolated stay. In addition after a couple of conversations with her Dad. He kindly offered to come over and share a dram of whisky with us. With pleasure we accepted.
Two nights later we were tasting some heavily peated Octomore, and were excited to see what her dad would bring later that night. Well, he did not disappoint. An unmarked bottle of whisky with a black screw cap was placed on the table. No commentary, nothing. So, we opened and smelled the perfectly golden spirit.
It was fantastic, the sweet caramel nose pushed back all the way through the mouth. Filling your senses. The pour into the glass showed a medium body and strong golden hue. The taste was refined, in only the way really aged whiskies can. It was warming to the touch, starting sweet and topped with a perfect blend of smoke and spice to provide flavor. Subtle notes of grain and peat completed the taste. Truly perfection and we begin our inquires to how he managed to come by this golden delight.
« Sir, what is this, this is fantastic? »
« Well, let me tell you a story about Bruichladdich… »
What we had in our hand was a 35 year old cherry cask single malt scotch. It will be bottled later this year and put to the shelves. It is at this time, the best scotch i have ever had and look forward to being able to point at it in the stores an say that i have already tried it. Well, we drank almost all of it that night, leaving my friend and I slightly sideways, while the Scotsman was able to just walk away—none for ware. He returned two nights later for dinner, where, together we were able to finish it.
If there was a place to be stuck, and isolated, better than here, I have not imagined it yet.
Anonymous Africanus 