Gordon & MacPhail Dailuaine 1963 18yo
Independent Bottling| 40% ABV
Wanted: Astrophysicist With Firm Grasp Of Engineering To Help Build Time Travelling Device
Confession time! I may need to plead guilty on charges of indecisiveness. There’s a good chance that sending out mixed messages and a hint of hypocrisy could be added to the growing list of charges.
You see, I am fully convinced that the present is the best time to be alive when it comes to enjoying whisky. The industry is at an all-time high, the choice we have is pretty much unprecedented and as a result (at least, I like to think it’s a result), the quality of what is being distilled, matured and bottled in this 21st century of ours, is second to none. Therefore I often need to suppress a rather strong urge to start rolling my eyes whenever I stumble upon the know-it-all ‘expert’ who insists on stating something down the lines of ‘today’s stuff is decent, but it’s nothing like what we used to be able to get’. These men (you can bet your house on it being men) are utterly convinced that the whiskies from 30, 40 years ago were superior by a mile to what’s available today. They’ve been around the block, probably more than once, and they’ve seen (and tasted) everything there is to see (and taste) and insist on spreading their sheer infinite knowledge and wisdom – preferably at festivals and tastings - onto anyone who has the misfortune of stepping into their crosshairs.
On the other hand, one of my favourite things to do when visiting a festival, is tracking down the stands where they offer yesteryear’s whiskies. I remember vividly trying for the first time a 1960s Bell’s for virtually peanuts at a festival, as I was taken aback by how impressed I was with the quality. Further investigation into the matter seemed to back this up, leading me to conclude that if this was the stuff the budget aware consumer had to settle for 50 odd years ago, they had nothing to complain about. And while of course there also were old-school whiskies you could only describe as ‘utterly vile’, worthy only of cleaning your paint brushes with, it seems those self-proclaimed experts might be onto something. As is so often the case: just because someone is right, doesn’t mean they can’t be an absolute pain in the back.
Hence me being guilty of indecisiveness, as my inner Vicky Pollard keeps going ‘Yeah, but no. But yeah…’ What inspired me to today’s review, was actually a feature by our esteemed colleague Dallas Mhor, who recently posted his article on leprechaun whiskies. His praise to some of yesteryear’s Irish pot still whiskies reminded me of a sample of a 1963 Dailuaine I had in the cabinet, kindly sent to me by someone in the community. Being gifted a sample of a whisky that was distilled years before I was even born deserves to be treated with all due respect. So one fine Saturday evening, after the kids were off to bed, I switched off every electronic device in my vicinity (yes, you can actually do that, dear marketing people at Iain Macleod) and made an evening out of my time with this relic from a previous century.
Review
Distilled 1963, 18yo, 40% ABV
Only on auctions and secondary for around £600
It’s hard to imagine anyone today releasing an entire series of whiskies the way G&M did in the eighties. Their ‘brown label’ releases may be held in high regard these days (with the price tag to match them), but in hindsight, presenting your bottles in what can only be described as ‘50 shades of brown’, probably didn’t help relieving whisky from its image of being an old man’s drink. While all the cool kids were sipping flashy and colourful cocktails with cute little umbrellas, a brown liquid in a brown bottle sitting in a brown cabinet would make you about as uncool as you could possibly hope to become. I may be putting the cart before the horse on this one, but when big companies like G&M failed to notice the flaw in this marketing strategy, little wonder then there was a whisky loch going on. I mean: how would you expect to sell any bottle at all if they matched your grandparent’s wallpaper? On the other hand, and I’m probably over- romanticising things here a fair bit, I find it also rather endearing, as this conservative, borderline naive presentation is also somewhat of a testimony of a more innocent time, where marketing was something that happened to things like luxury cars, designer shoes and other desirable products rather than whisky.
But I digress. I’ve tasted quite some Dailuaines over the years, and I really do like their style. From my experience, I find it can be subtle and layered when it’s being put to rest in refill bourbon casks, while it also shines as a big and bold malt when matured in sherry casks. It seems that no matter what cask you throw at it, there’s always flavour, depth and complexity to be found and, while having this ‘chameleon like’ adaptive character, it has rarely (never, come to think of it) disappointed me. So it’s safe to say I was eager to spend some time with this blast from the past, and the leprechaun article was just the thing to convince me that I shouldn’t save this for a special occasion, but rather live the moment and enjoy this now.
Nose
Oily and ‘old-school’. Raisins and grapes (almost going cognac, in fact), wax, stewed fruits and dried fruits and a faint lemony freshness. Burnt sugar, making for a tart/ Crème brûlée note with some confectionery sweets. Soft wood with some autumn forest notes in there as well. Absolutely and utterly fantastic, to be honest.
Palate
Demerara sugar. Viscous, woody with a medium mouthfeel, some bitter and dark chocolate. Hints of vanilla and cocoa as well. Drying towards the finish that’s driven by red fruit and wood.
The Dregs
This was a sensory trip back in time, and a lovely, memorable experience. The nose is, simply put, out of this world. Gorgeous in fact. The palate might be a bit less impressive, preventing this from cruising its way towards a 9/10. But nonetheless, this is an old-school, wonderfully balanced, rich, sherry cask influenced whisky, possibly from the days when sherry casks were actually still sherry casks. There is a fair dose of Old Bottle Effect (OBE) here I believe, but if anything, it didn’t hurt this whisky one bit – quite the contrary in fact. Gosh, I hate it when some people are right…
Score: 8/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. EA
Photo Credit: Glenn Duncan