Among the props used during the tour at Aberfeldy are a series of casks with glass heads to illustrate liquid lost to evaporation during maturation: the angel’s share (and this would be a great place for a photo of said prop had I thought to take one). Not much is left in a typical hogshead after forty years, not unless someone has carefully combined sibling casks over the years or found just the right spot in a warehouse for the cask. I was still shocked that the Aberfeldy 40 Year retailed for about $2,000, and no less shocked when I found out they were single cask releases (and handfills at that, done in a small secret room at the distillery). So, when I had a chance to snag a pour at the distillery tasting bar, I went ahead and splurged for a modest sample; YOLO I told myself, it’s for historical research!

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Whisky: Aberfledy 40 Year (1978) Cask 5030

Country/Region: Scotland/Highland

ABV: 47.3%

Cask: Bourbon Hogshead

Age: 40 Years (Distilled 1978, Bottled 2019)

Notes: The aroma was remarkably grungy as a dirty vein of garage floor stains and used auto shop rags ran along fresh meadows of green grass, white flowers, and grazing sheep. Lanolin and antique wood squared off against aromatic resins, old newspapers, and clay— a bit like stepping into the backroom of an archive. Fruits lingered further in, almost wine-like at times, with a Manuka honey sweetness and floral-citrusy pomelo. Medium-bodied with an oily, then waxy texture, that spilled across the palate with honey, grass, lanolin, and peppery wood. It was all antiques in a country cabin with soft white flower notes against old oil lamps, cast iron patina, old newspapers, and an old coffee maker— a vein of musty, almost grunginess. Beeswax and grass shoots lay further in with resinous woods and antiques. The finish was very long with beeswax, wood, dried fruits, and pepper.

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Score: 9 (93)

Mental Image: Forgotten Rural Sheep Collective Archive

Conclusion: What a wild experience— this was remarkably different, and yet similar, to the modern twelve year. Some of the same DNA and qualities were present, but turned up to eleven with an old-fashioned grunginess.  The whisky felt archaic, a time capsule from a forgotten era, that was remarkably well-composed and coherent; the wood and malt were in perfect harmony despite the long maturation. I could sip on this every single day if only I had a vault like Scrooge McDuck, until then I will just have to settle for just a small takeaway pour.

Image Credit: Aberfeldy Distillery