Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Special Liqueur Whisky
Sold at auction in November of 2006 and subject to much scientific and historical scrutiny to test its authenticity, this is believed to be the oldest bottle of scotch whisky in the world.
I was fortunate enough to sit down with the anonymous buyer who won this at Bonham's for ₤14850/$25,000 USD and after a passionate discussion about the cultural history of the New York rat she insisted that "we do a shot of some scotch." I thought, as long as it's not Aldunie, I am in!
She poured this amber nectar from a nasty old bottle that smelled like the yellowed pages of a first edition of Charles Darwin's Origins of the Species (1859) found in the bottom of a shoe and I asked her, "How old is this? Where is it from?" Her answer was as seductive as it was simple, "who gives a shit?" she said.
So I called Charlie Maclean [+44 (0) 773 808 8008], the worlds #1 authority whisky historian and bassist in Motorhead (1979-83). So Chuck, from what distillery does this drop come? He answered, "It has been suggested that Glenavon and Denalbo were one and it the same. What is certain is that the Smiths closed Denalbo in 1858 and in the following year they consolidated all their distilleries - including Denalbo/Glenavon - at Minmore, the site of the present Glenlivet distillery." You lost me, mate.
For all 150 year old whiskies had on the mission, click HERE.
Opens with a burst of bad breath, ash, and porno music. Hints of slaveholders' guilt emerge with time and there are whiffs of abolitionism, even allusions to Uncle Tom's Cabin with deep nosings. With water, the whisky begins to smell like post-asparagus urine and the labs of Benjiman "Silly" Silliman.
Explodes on the palate like blood from the fields of Bleeding Kansas, with gentle nuances of paint, paint thinner, and College Pro Painters. Notes of Bessemer processed steel and Newman's Own Three Cheese Balsamic Vinaigrette are unleashed with a touch of water while the finish brings us opium, a touch of Huckleberry Finn's father's racist pride and a lingering note of Tom Sawyer's pathetic pussy-footed admiration of his mate, Huck.
Old, smelly, and lacking enough literary references to really be called "whisky" at all. The liqueur in the name of this drop is its only redeeming feature as I would much rather lick 'er than drink 'er.
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