Ben Nevis 10yo (1996)
Forgotten Bottlings Single Cask OB | 46% ABV
I went to Glasgow’s Whisky Festival and I’m still not over it.
I went to Glasgow’s Whisky Festival in November last year (how has it already been so long?). It was my first whisky festival and it was just part of a rather heady weekend during which I met lots of lovely people, including a good chunk of those involved in this website. Selfies (which I normally detest) with whisky greats were snapped. And much — too much — whisky was consumed.
I noticed something at the festival. This may sound controversial, but I think whisky festivals might not actually be all about the whisky. Maybe I’ve not got the strength of palate quite yet, but I was just not prepared for the onslaught of, er, whisky. With hundreds of fascinating drams on offer, how could I choose? How could I sensibly narrow it down? I was using the spittoons more than anyone else — or so it seemed — but I could still barely keep track of what I was tasting, and much less give it detailed thought.
Then I realised how people all around me were shaking hands, embracing the exhibitors behind the stalls, calling across the room to each other: everyone seemed to be greeting old friends, catching up, and exchanging thoughts about this year’s crop of bottlings versus last year’s. It was only my first time at the festival, but I was immediately inspired to come back — if only to be part of those relaxedly in-the-know folks next time. It seems that in events and festivals as in sipping (and even purchasing), whisky rewards quality time and dedication. Well, I didn’t need an excuse to go back, but now I had it.
In terms of what I actually tasted at the festival, well… the Ardnagherkin was the most memorable. I liked it, before you ask! I tend to enjoy anything funky and weird. In this context, it was just that it was different. By the same token, I also still remember the 30-ish-year-old Cognac I tried from Single Cask Nation, as well as a Hampden Estate rum. The new-makes, too, stuck in my mind: they were generally hidden in plain sight on the display tables, often unlabelled, but one only had to ask. The creamy, fishy, tropical, even slightly vomity weirdness of those young spirits couldn’t but stick out among a sea of finished (pun intended) whiskies, however delicious.
Coming back to my tiny whisky collection at home was a sort of comfort, a relief from time-pressured choice paralysis. My shelves aren’t nearly as stocked as those of some people in this community, but that just gives me more time to really sit with each bottle. My ‘problem’ (other than money — that old chestnut) is that I’m also very interested in other kinds of drinks, from fine cider and calvados to wine — especially wines which are natural, oxidised, or from lesser-known regions — and there’s only so much liver space in a day. I’m also not blessed with a Scottish constitution. All of this is to say, I take my time with the old uisge beatha. Including — you guessed it — with this Ben Nevis.
My ‘forgotten bottling’ of Ben Nevis is a whisky I keep coming back to, eking it out. After the experience of tasting far too much at one time in November (did I mention the whisky festival was followed the next day by an amazing Aqvavitae blind challenge meet up that went on into the night?), and after taking my time to mull this whisky over since then, I’m more easily able to characterise why I like it so much. I used to dislike being asked what kind of whisky I enjoyed, feeling at a loss for a pithy description and not wanting to nail myself down. Now, I see that this expression’s toothsome texture, savoury edge and dirty, oxidative complexities — all in a still reasonably subtle package — are a sure winner for me. (Recommendations for similar drams are welcome!).
I haven’t had any other Ben Nevis yet and this is quite a one-off from a series of single casks whose liquid have gone through unusual journeys during maturation, so you can take or leave how representative this review is. For something more useful on that front, look to recent Dramface comparisons of various Ben Nevis official bottlings and independent bottlings. Also, I hear 1996 was a special year with regard to this Japanophile distillery — lucky me.
Review
Ben Nevis 10yo, Forgotten Bottlings single cask, refill butt matured, bottle 60/156, 46% ABV
Occasionally available at auction
This is one of those strange one-off bottlings with a backstory. It seems it was filled into a refill sherry butt in September 1996 before being bottled in 2007 for a private client. Unknown events meant it hung around in glass for six years before Ben Nevis released it in 2014 as part of their Forgotten Bottlings Series.
Nose
There’s something different about this whisky. It smells not like sherry-finished whisky but rather like actual sherry. It’s that deep savoury nuttiness and slightly funky saline quality. If there’s any raisin, it’s been sapped of all its sweetness and left as a deliciously mushroomy, vinous husk. And there is something slightly of the mouldy wine cave or dunnage warehouse about this: that’s right, it’s durrrty. Looking for lighter notes, I come up with white peaches (or ‘vineyard peaches’, as they are known in some places — fun fact). More sniffs reveal parmesan cheese rind, Spanish vermouth with olives, soy sauce, slight wood smoke, and boozy festive desserts. This is nice.
Palate
It’s sweeter on the palate than on the nose (I find this is often the case — maybe Tyree can enlighten me). The texture is lightly oily but not overly full. You get the nuttiness along with something slightly menthol. The vinous quality is more pronounced, and there’s red berries and barley sugar along with cinder toffee, burnt toast, and very mature Gouda.
The Dregs
An impression of oloroso-soaked chocolate lingers. I’m reminded of Ralfy praising dirty, complex, old-fashioned whiskies. I love a clean, bright, fresh bourbon cask as much as the next person; this is different. This dram reminds me of the amazing truffle negroni I once tried in an overpriced London restaurant, and I imagine it would indeed be amazing paired with truffle. Google informs me that truffle bitters exist… Hold my Ben Nevis!
Score: 8/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. GMc