The Final Act of Creation was Bruichladdich’s final tribute to the career of Jim McEwan, one of the pioneers that returned it to life. He was at the forefront of the single malt revolution that gained steam in the early 2000s and established Bruichladdich as a leader. I have known several who chased this bottle to the ends of the earth— by reputation it was McEwan’s favorite creation, dubbed his “Princess Diana cask,” and bottled at 52% to mark his 52 years in the industry.

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Whisky: Bruichladdich 23 Year (1992) The Final Act of Creation

Country/Region: Scotland/Islay

ABV: 52%

Cask: Château Latour Wine Cask

Age: 23 Years (Distilled 1992, Bottled 2015)

Notes: Soft and mellow, the aroma called to me to sail away, sail away (cue Enya and 90s New Age), with waxed sails, soft brine, pears, champagne gummy bears, and a cargo of tropical citrus. Waxy tangerine, grapefruit, and jabong (pomelo) continued to develop with old olive trees and rocky sea cliffs. It was all turquoise water and soft filters, an aroma something like a relaxing karaoke background video with a hint of floral carnations and plumeria. Medium to light-bodied, the flavors were rich and varied with an initial explosion of citrusy extracts, honey, and syrups— tangerine, jabong, lime, and more grapefruit (though not an especially bitter one). A soft brine and nibble of pepper continued with wood resins, herbal tisanes with orange rind (almost jasmine and mint at times), chamomile, pear tart, and a kiss of milk chocolate. The finish was very long and slightly drying with waxy citrus rinds, hessian, and milk chocolate.

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Score: 9 (92)

Mental Image: Tasting the Orinoco Flow

Conclusion: A superlative whisky— nothing but good vibes; you can almost taste the optimism of 90s New Age music in the glass. There was dream-like quality about it, from the soft and slow to emerge aroma, to the waxy richness of the flavors and pillowy quality of the mouthfeel on the palate. If you can stand to read me quibble about this whisky, I wish this was heavier and that the aroma were stronger— it was almost fleeting at times, though perhaps that was part of its charm. It was a whisky that demanded patience, but disappeared from the glass so fast; I suppose that’s a metaphor for something, but I need to go find a hammock and day dream.