Adelphi Glen Garioch 11yo
AD/Venturers Release No.2 2023 | 59.4% ABV
Score: 9/10
Exceptional.
TL;DR
A golden nugget of vivid, opulent magnificence.
Mining for gold often means disappointment
It has been said that my attitude to whisky discovery is quite addictive, for when I find something I like, my entire focus shifts to that one place.
It’s happened with Ardnamurchan, obviously. It’s happened with Kingsbarns, but it’s also happened with specific bottlers too. I was so impressed with the first Alistair Walker bottling I tried that I sought out many more from that brand in quick succession. When I thoroughly enjoyed the Cadenhead’s Warehouse Tasting Tour in the summer of 2022 and realised how abjectly brilliant the whisky being bottled by Cadenhead’s is, and for incredibly reasonable prices as well, I couldn’t help but seek out as many as I could from that label, regardless of distillery.
A wider appraisal of my personality would see evidence of this behaviour in most areas of my life, and it could almost be encompassed inside a “bracket of trust”. If I see, hear, taste or try something I really enjoy, I place trust in that the same quality, standards or sentiment will continue through whatever the original source of that joy is. I naturally want to extend the experience as far as I can, doing whatever is within my limited power to share that experience with like-minded people, give positive feedback to the makers of that stuff so they know they’re appreciated, or just enjoy the thrill of finding something new.
At the start of my Ardnageddon “research” I found a club called the AD/Venturers, created by Adelphi Distillers to bring together people of like minds to share in exclusive events, bottlings and connect with a community of passionate people. When I discovered the club was closed to new memberships, capped at 300 for the foreseeable, I asked to be put on the waiting list despite being warned it could be a long hold. Rumblings of more memberships being made available never seemed to materialise and I made do with being clubless, patiently holding for when the AD/Venturers club would once again be draughting.
In the interim I enjoyed many bottles of whisky from around these saturated lands, in particular a rarely discussed distillery called Glen Garioch. A small 5cl sample was given to me as a Christmas present and it opened my eyes to the Geery and the glorious purple firework display that has since captured my heart. From that first full bottle of 12 year old, through many independent bottlings of various provenance, to the latest auction win of a Cadenhead’s Warehouse Tasting Glengarioch (sic) 9yo Tawny port bottled for the Drambusters Club that apparently has, due to the cloudiness of the whisky, all of the cask still inside the bottle; I can’t get enough of the Oldmeldrum spirit.
Just before the turn of the year within what seemed like the span of mere minutes, the AD/Venturers club began accepting new members. I knew of this development not because I had my ear to the ground, but from the flood of messages I received from the whisky community alerting me to the turn of events. What a lovely feeling, for people to think of you because they don’t want you to miss out. As it happened, I hadn’t seen it but nothing moved as quickly thereafter than my fat fingers to get over to the Adelphi website and chuck my name into the hat like an Exocet missile. Soon I was the proud custodian of a membership card, a wee pin badge (SMWS watch out) and granted access to the AD/Venturers Facebook group.
Apart from a few posts and pictures appearing on the group chat, the noise from the AD/Venturers team was low, until Connal Mackenzie dropped a little hint of a new AD/Venturers bottling in the works: it wasn’t an Ardnamurchan-shaped label. In fact, it was an Adelphi shaped label - the independent bottling arm. A few weeks later and more hints but nothing concrete. Then it was finally revealed that for the sophomore AD/Venturers exclusive bottling we’d have access to a Glen Garioch 11 year old, bottled by Adelphi and offered to us at £65.
Excitement in whiskyland is quite common for there’s always something happening that resonates with someone, somewhere, but if there’s a comparable level of energy release to which I exhibited that morning, it would be circa 16th July 1945 at Jornada del Muerto, New Mexico. How perfect it was: one of my most enjoyed distilleries bottled by one of the most renowned independent bottlers for quality whisky, exclusive to this small group of whisky exciters that I’d just joined, at a price point that is accessible to me. I’m relieved there was no-one around to witness the frantic hand clapping and stream of tears flowing down my ballooning beetroot face.
Review
Adelphi Glen Garioch 11yo, Adventurers 2023 Release, No.2, 59.4% ABV
£65 paid. Only available to Ardnamurchan AD/Venturers
My bottle of Glen Garioch arrived the following week and I vowed to wait until the Thursday evening Aqvavitae V-Pub before opening it, but curiosity and impatience got the better of me. Releasing the stopper and inhaling the first vapours to escape, I knew almost immediately this whisky was for me. The bold purple spicy Geery character was present, but it was laced with a very vibrant buttery biscuit note.
The Adelphi bottle is tall, but thankfully not too tall for the illuminated super shelf. It’s a simple affair with the majority being unobstructed refractive glass through which to observe the colour of the spirit within, in this case one of the most vibrantly rich golden tones of amber I’ve seen. Tutankhamun would’ve picked this out from an array of colour swatches for liberal deployment on his funerary mask, it’s that gold. I want to dangle this from every light fitting around my house and bathe in the visual opulence of it. This appearance would resonate with what’s to come.
The wee label is efficient in its information, letting me know that this is Glen Garioch of 11 years age, distilled by the Oldmeldrum stills in 2011, bottled in 2023 from a refill American oak ex-Oloroso sherry butt matured Cask 2372, exclusive to AD/Venturers and limited to 452 bottles worldwide. The ABV is 59.4% and I’m delighted to have the ability to tamp it down should I need it. This is everything I could ever want in a whisky, designed almost exclusively for me. It’s like Connal reached into my brain and asked, if I could have the perfect whisky designed for me right now, what would it be? This exact one, please.
After my wee girl was tucked up in bed I raced downstairs, flicked on the illuminated supershelves and poured a wee measure into a copita; my analysis glass. I left it for 10 minutes, because teasing myself seemed like the right thing to do; maybe I was a bit apprehensive too. The quick sniff of a freshly-popped whisky bottle neck doesn’t mean anything. Instead I reached for the camera and witnessed, through amber prism and Dougie Crystal’s wibbling eyeball, the stunning colour of this whisky inside bowled glass illuminated from behind - all it needed was a mosquito suspended within and I’d be affixing it to the top of a walking cane.
It was time to wrap my quivering lips around it, and see if the Glen Garioch fanaticism would continue on, or if the seam of golden wonder would cease henceforth.
Nose
Purple. Wet sand. Cream crackers. Red wine gums. Black pudding! Sweet salty popcorn. Chip shop chips. Day old sock. Salted caramel buttery shortcake. Oil paints. Hairspray. Charred pineapple? Balsamic. Toast almost about to burn. Hint of mint. Swimming pool. Strawberry laces. Bready waft.
Palate
Purple. Wave of sweet sour purple, yellow and pink fruits. Salty. Maple syrup. Buttery shortbread dipped in milk chocolate. Earthy. American pancakes with maple syrup and blueberries, small side of whipped cream and a few grains of sea salt. Bit of balsamic. Very small hint of dark smoke. Salty fudge. Tropically vivid, potent fruit.
Drops of water - relaxed toasted heather. Herbal. Sweet tea infusion. Balsamic dipped buttery crumpet. Mint.
The Dregs
I had the time of my whisky life at the Fife Whisky Festival 2023. Invited by the TAIBS boys (Taps Aff International Bottle Split) to their rented lodge up on the hills overlooking the valley of Balmeadowside, I arrived to find them bristling with excitement. There was an electric energy fizzing about the room and it was soon clear why - they had brought, along with many more exceptional whiskies, their latest bottle split for the group to open tonight: a 1988 Glen Garioch bottled in 2022 by Berry Brothers & Rudd; 34 year old Geery. I was handed a dram of it. There’s something said quite often in whiskyland by selfless, uber-generous souls like the TAIBS boys: “That’s what whisky is all about.” Well let me tell you, that was what whisky is all about, for the next dram continued with the bar remaining as high - a 28yo Springbank society bottling was opened and enjoyed together before we all headed down to the festival.
I spent the next five hours in the company of countless lovely people who knew whisky inside and out, who were able to appreciate the nuances of big ages as well as the youthful vibrance of smaller ages - all various shades of great and all were cherished, feeding into the growing knowledge base of our own smell and taste experiences. Being a (semi) anonymous person, I was able to mooch around between the TAIBS boys and the Glasgow Whisky Club group, of whom I knew a few folk, as well as just stand and observe in obscurity the goings on of the evening session. Dipping in and out of these circles, listening in to the discussions they were having, marvelling at the extolling of whisky virtues from far more experienced palates than mine and recognising that I was finding similar things - it was as much an education as it was affirmation. Drinking whisky inside a mass throbbing mind-hive like the Fife Whisky Festival is an utterly magical place to exist, especially if one of those throbbing mind-hives is The Whisky Alchemist at the Kilchoman stand.
One of the core memories generated from my time at the FWF was that of chatting to one of our beloved editors Clyde at the Scotch Malt Whisky Society stall. This was the first time I’d met Clyde face to face, but I felt like I’d known him forever - a more beautiful, kind soul you shant meet, anywhere. We both had SMWS 26.196 “Comfort and Joy” Clynelish in the glass, which was symbolic, and the topic of conversation was my unfettered enthusiasm when it comes to new things, chasing any and every permutation. Laughing, he said that we’re all shades of that person in some way, chasing down whisky that we find resonant with our own palates. I wanted to test a theory, or rather an analogy on him to see if he felt the same way, or at the very least saw value in the plot device for a review in general. His reaction was enough to send my heart into overdrive, as he lit up the more deeply we discussed it. So here it is.
Whisky for me is like standing before a towering cliff face. As I approach the glossy black rock it feels more and more ominous, looming over me and giving me the willies at the prospect of climbing it. A rock hammer rests in my palm and instead of climbing, I use the sharpened tip to chip away at the rock, gathering and analysing the chunks that fall away, honing my mining skills as I go until soon a sparkling nugget appears. Careful to extract it without damage, the nugget reveals another behind it - a potential seam of gold. The hammer swings quicker now, keen to follow this seam as far as it goes, delicately placing the pebbles that I uncover into my pocket. More often than not the seam of gold ends abruptly, oftentimes only one or two nuggets are found. Other times I burrow quite far into the rock face, enough that the light has started to dim around me and the shimmer of gold keeps my eyes locked dead ahead. But inevitably that seam ends before long and, tracking back into the light of day, I take a moment to gather my thoughts, and my nuggets, so as to appreciate it all in the grand scheme of things.
Once in a while I’ll chip away what looks very much like gold but instead falls into my hand as pyrite. Sometimes I toil at the rock face without finding any gold at all. Countless potential seams have resolved as nothing more than little flurries of excitement, but others have continued to lead me deeper into the rock face. Ardnamurchan is a thick seam that I’ve been mining for a while now, the tunnel deep and wide and the embedded gold more enticing than ever. I periodically journey back into the tunnel, observing the marks I’ve made along the way reminding me of my journey such that, by the time I arrive at the open face, I’m ready to throw my hammer more exuberantly than ever before. Kingsbarns is a seam that started promisingly but has hit rock again. I’ll still chip away at it with hopes of revealing more nuggets, but for now that seam has ended. Various tunnels now exist in my whisky cliff, each one of differing depth and it’s healthy (and wise) to come back into the light now and then, back into the fresh air and take stock of what has transpired.
At times the cliff can feel infinite and it can be overwhelming if too much of that rock is exposed in my view. The pull of a persistently providing seam can blinker me from discovering other, larger, nuggets or even better quality gold. I have mined enough now that I could smelt it all down and make something nice, but the draw of unmined gold is too great an urge to resist; without further thought my hammer is once again smashing rhythmically into that dense rock, regardless of how heavy the purse is becoming. The Fife Whisky Festival and the preceding time at the TAIBS lodge uncovered loads of little nuggets here, there and everywhere, all over the cliff face and with varying sizes and qualities; all of them placed into the expanding purse of experience. The 34 year old Geery was a big old hunk of misshapen, ancient gold that fell out of the rock face without much effort at all, the nugget disappearing before I had a chance to stash it, but just to hold the thing was enough for me.
This Adelphi Glen Garioch is one of the biggest, purest and most vividly striking nuggets I’ve found to date. It’s the size of my fist, heavy in hand and glistens so beautifully that my eyes are transfixed to its pliant surface. It dwarfs my other nuggets in size so completely that I almost forget that I have them, and shifts in appearance with each turn of the hand. Despite tucking this giant nugget into my purse so that I can move on, the sheer weight of it is constantly reminding me of its presence, and calling me to hold it once more, if only to catch a glimpse of its faceted extravaganza.
The magical thing about the whisky cliff is that only I can see it. Only I can approach it and touch it. Only I can plant my hammer into it and gather the nuggets to which it produces. Your rock face is different to mine and what’s gold in my hand might be rock in yours. I can only say that this is my first showstopper. I have been halted in my tracks by its discovery and I can’t think of anything else right now other than how desperately fleeting it is. I’m so fully aware of the transient nature of this single bottle of whisky that I feel a frantic edge of desperation setting in yet, despite its rapidly depleting level, I can’t stop depleting it.
My hammer has been temporarily laid down in deference to its dutiful companionship that has rewarded me with a triumph of spirit and cask. I’ll take this gold and cast a worthy crown to which I’ll rest upon the eventual empty vessel in a marked ceremony, commemorating the ephemeral life of a whisky that changed what whisky means to me. If you are despairing that there’s no “primo casks” around, or that the only good whisky is old whisky, then do not fret fellow miners. The golden age of whisky continues to reveal itself in abundant resplendence, if only we swing our hammers in the right places.
Score: 9/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. DC
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