Glenfarclas 15-year-old 46% Dram #9

Sophisticated,

Luxurious, eccentric:

Quite a character.

It wasn't exactly love at first sight, but I worked at the relationship.

I had been desperate to try the offerings from this distillery which had always put me in mind of a secret glen: proud and aloof; quietly creating a dram of the first order. Eventually, with the squat, avuncular bottle open in my hand, I was better positioned to pass judgement, not just on the malt, but on my imagination, too. This was a period on my whisky journey where i had to rely heavily on seldon-challenged assumptions.

The original tasting note, tasted 5/7/08: COLOUR - Deep, old gold. Bronzy, peaty water. NOSE - WoW - Huge. Very floral with vanilla, honey and tannins. WW - Changes nature: harsher, fuller and more steely. Treated wood - sharp. More malty as you go down the glass. BODY - Robust, chewy. A heavy-weaight. A hammer's head. PALATE - Big Sherr hit to begin with. A gentle decay into liqueuer chocolates. Chocolate mousse, too. Mandarins, apples and skinned grapes. FINISH - Grape skins appear here, tannins, majorly oaky and lingering.

Taking my chance to propery re-evaluate the Glenfarclas, I was struck (most likely not for the first time) by its beauty. This time around i described the appearance as a strong terracotta orange with gold highlights.

Perhaps so long with so much air to contend with inside the bottle altered the make-up of the whisky slightly, for I wasn't bowled over as I was last year by the full, sweet Sherry woodiness. Then again, perhaps I have tasted other malts that take the Glenfarclas' crown for most extreme Sherry aroma, or I have simply developed the ability to compartmentalise it. Whatever, the first flavour to spring from the glass was that of cleanly assertive cereals under a warm mist of smooth Sherry. I also smelt the richest honey/ beeswax, perhaps worked into the sturdy polished oak note. Higher up in the aroma were ticklish citrus juices. A lovely, delicate sweetness drew me in somewhere between the malt and the fruit. It was a nice place to be. The finest gingerbread men were hinted at, as were semi-wild flowers. The balance and depth of character was extraordinary.

The personality shift that I had come to marvel at in the past when water was introduced did not occur to the same degree. Instead of noting the sharpness of treated wood, I felt the malt became sweeter and breezier with a firm ooze of caramel. Given time, the nose I was accustomed to emerged with hot honey and woody tannins. It grew in strength and Sherry was glugged liberally over a foundation of flowers and peat. Toffee maltiness and burnt vanilla lent their sweetness to a stunning and complex nose.

To drink it is to be charmed again by the forceful but agreeable distillery character. The body was full, round and dryish.

Flavour-wise, big and rich maltiness slid about on the syrupy Sherry, orange peel appeared as well as dark bitter chocolate and caramel maltiness. It had a plumy quality, too.

The finish is almost outrageously long with tangerine oakiness. There is a clean breathless tang like cough syrup - the work of the oak that even the 10-year-old exhibits. The younger sibling also has the same tasty leafy character.

And now it's gone! I don't think I shall see its kind for a wee while, at least until I get hold of the 105. I feel I gave it an appropriate send-off, however, re-marking it up to where it ought to perch: proudly in the "70s".

Glenfarclas 10-year-old 40% Dram #37

Who's been to Edzell? If you haven't, it's nothing major because I'm about to describe the smart little village near Brechin, or more particularly the walk which has the settlement as its base, to you now.

The route makes use of the banks of the North Esk, a river which, I believe, has a reputation for good fishing. It is even better for acting metaphorically as the Glenfarclas 10-year-old. I'll call it the Glenfarclas Garden. The easiest parallel comes in autumn as all those deciduous trees blush the same amber gold. However, I am more familiar with the place in early summer, a season which teases the best out of the area and comparisons with the whisky of today's post.

Driving from Brechin, you should actually ignore the village entirely, sparing only minimal attention on the plush residences visible from the main street. Following this road will see you cross a bridge, immediately beyond which is a layby. Park here. This is the sideboard from which you may pluck a number of drams: passing through a gate set in the wall will take you further up the river valley where you might access a very different whisky, perhaps the 105. Persevering on the road would lead you to Fettercairn and its malt. I'll be following the flow of the North Esk downhill on this occasion.

Make straight across the road where you will be confronted by a dense body of trees. These ones lend their needles, largely undisturbed by decay, to the forest floor. After finding the path between these, you meet the species which have most in common with our Glenfarclas: horse chestnut, beech; they offer a woody spiciness that sways quietly about them above the river. The nose adopts the dimensions of these trees, and newly-budded leaves are a sweet, fluffy texture. The abundant sun stokes the undergrowth into a mulchy fruitiness, roses and cherries. In the leaf mould there are the rich nut kernels, roots and earth. Periodically the path sidles to the edge of the gorge and the fast-flowing stream fills each nostril from below with the lively scents of light, air and peat.

Progress is gradual and pleasurable, the trees relenting to a single rank at the river's edge. On your left are fields - pasture and soon arable farming. Young grass lends its own herby sweetness to the life-giving air. A honey-like quality begins to develop and the cereal crops increase their aromatic presence with the shrinking altitude. Oak trees appear and theirs is a waxy apple influence.

The path, just as the suspension footbridge extends from either canopy, is allowed closer to the slackening river. It is now shallow, braided by white-pebbled eyots and supped at by the sycamores at its edge. I cup my hands in the current and lift to my lips. Some trick of the light tinges its purity: a coppery glow. It's a firm drink, massive malt and whole fruits: cherries and cranberries. The smoothness is hugely refreshing. While I dry my fingers and palms on my trousers I appreciate the soft malty reprise, embellished with vanilla, cranberry and dark chocolate. I recognise the 15-year-old in a gasp-worthy organic tang of Sherry oak, like rhubarb or mandarins in its heady tartness. It sustains me for my return journey along the opposite bank.

This is a really fine dram and quite astonishing value. I first tasted a Glenfarclas this time last year and so intense was the sweetness and so strong that oaky finish progress with it was slow for my novice taste buds. However, the distillery character is gratifyingly present here, and I hope it shall be with the other quite easily-available expressions in its core range. The very idea of the 25-year-old is dangerously wonderful, being, as it is, in the locality of £100.