When it comes to single malt scotch, is older better?

Tod Stewart shares his thoughts after experiencing a whisky tasting for the ages, courtesy of Glenfarclas

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Older the better when it comes to scotch, right? Sure. Common wisdom; but the truth is, most single malts have a “sweet spot” for maturation. Distillers know this. For Laphroaig, 10 years might be where it sits best. For me personally, The Macallan 18-year-old always seemed to be the most alluring. But what of the really old whiskies – the 25, 30, 35, 40-year-old numbers. Do they just get better and better?

Some scotch-o-philes will tell you that the whole age-designation thing is a contrivance of marketing departments. And they may have a point. Believe it or not, there was a time when you basically couldn’t give away brown spirits. So scotch producers sat on barrel upon barrel of whisky as it got older, and older, and older. How to offload it? Easy: convince consumers that older is, in fact, better, and price the liquid accordingly.

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Good solution in the short-term for sure. Until the brown spirits pendulum-swing. Suddenly single malts were the Taylor Swift of booze, and those old stocks went like her concert tickets. Now what? Enter NAS (non-age-statement) bottlings. Most have been stellar. Blending trumps age.

Anyway, I’m drifting from my initial question: is older better? I doubted I’d be able to determine this myself. First, I’d need access to a flight of very old whisky from a single distillery (apples to apples and all that). Then I’d need access to the above-mentioned person-du-jour’s credit card.

I dejectedly resigned myself to accepting that, though the truth may be out there, I’d likely never uncover it for myself. Then came the invite. An intimate lunch tasting with some whisky from the Glenfarclas Speyside distillery; and not just any whisky. I’d be treated to the 15, 25, 30, 35, and 40-year-old expressions. Older whiskies. Same distillery. I responded so fast my keyboard might have caught fire.

Officially licensed in 1836, the Glenfarclas distillery can likely trace its distilling legacy as far back as 1791. It was purchased in 1865 by the Grant family not because the family wanted a distillery (nobody in the family knew anything about distilling), but because the distillery came with a farm. Glenfarclas (“Valley of the Green Grass”) was seen as an ideal spot for cattle farming.

The distillery itself was initially leased to John Smith (of The Glenlivet distillery) until he left five years later to open the Craggannmore distillery. Distilling duties were eventually taken on by members of the Grant family who eventually sold off the farm to focus entirely on whisky making.

Today Glenfarclas remains very much a family-focused operation, with a staff of 34 men and women –- including a husband and wife and a father and son team. It is also a distillery with some unique features.

At one point all Scottish distilleries employed “direct fire” stills. As the name implies, the copper stills were heated via direct coal or gas fires. Gradually most distillers switched to alternate (more economical) methods such as steam and electricity. The few who stuck with direct fire claim it positively impacts the flavour and complexity of the whisky. In fact, Glenfarclas at one point switched to steam heating before switching back to direct fire, having been unsatisfied with what was coming off the steam heated still.

In terms of maturation, Glenfarclas is also unique in that it uses oloroso sherry casks exclusively (it works with a single sherry bodega to ensure all barrels have had sherry in them for at least four years to impart maximum character to the whisky). “A cask is quite expensive,” admits distillery manager Callum Fraser, “so we want to know that we can fill it three to four times and still get that reaction between the wood and the sherry,” adding that “good spirit in a good cask” is the key to good whisky.

The spirit is matured in a single cask only (standard practice these days is to mature primarily in ex-bourbon barrels, then “finished” in some sort of wine cask) and undergoes no colour correction. As far as Fraser sees it, colour is relatively unimportant, and suggests people taste with their nose and palate as opposed to their eyes.

Does all the effort pay off? From what I tasted, most definitely.

The flagship Glenfarclas 15-Year-Old offered up notes of buckwheat honey, hay, subtle smoke, butterscotch and vanilla on the nose, leading to a honeyed, slightly spicy, caramel-tinged palate that lingered on the long, memorable finish.

The Glenfarclas 25-Year-Old featured intense, floral-tinged aromatics hinting at cocoa powder, sultana, coffee, and amaro aromas that led to a flavour profile that suggested dried fruit, toasted nuts, malted grains and just a bare hint of smoke.

Profoundly long on the finish, the Glenfarclas 30-Year-Old sported a nose of polished wood, citrus (candied orange peel), marzipan, caramel and baking spice, with intense, complex flavours suggesting leather, spice, fruitcake and dark chocolate.

With aromatics leaning towards ginger, banana, hard toffee and red apple, the Glenfarclas 35-Year-Old was full, dry, and assertive in the mouth, with flavours of banana loaf, green apple, and a grind of white pepper that replayed on the (once again) amazingly long finish.

Finally, the Glenfarclas 40-Year-Old. Marshmallow, baked apple, milk chocolate, and cinnamon were but a few of the discernible aromatics nestled among a potpourri of complex nuances. Rich and viscous in the mouth, I could detect traces of maple, ginger, mocha, fudge, toasted oak, and oloroso sherry.

All are packaged in 700ml bottles, with prices ranging from $175 to $2,310 per.

So, did the expressions get “better” with additional age? I found each to stand on its own merits. Better? Not necessarily – all were exceptional. One astute taster felt the 15 and 25 shared some traits, as did the 30 and 35-Year-Old expressions, with the 40-Year-Old occupying its own unique space.

One thing was certain: none of these expressions showed even the remotest hint of being tired or “over-wooded.” In fact, it seemed as though they could age almost infinitely. Keep your eyes peeled, there may be a few bottles of the limited release of Glenfarclas 70-Year-Old out there…somewhere.

 

– Tod Stewart is a contributing editor with VineRoutes, and is a judge for the Canadian Artisanal Spirits Competition