Tuesday 14 February 2012

First Post/Glenmorangie 10yr old

It was in the face of the frozen chaos set to engulf the UK over the weekend just passed I decided that clearly the best thing to do would be to cloister myself in a small village nestled on the edge of the Peak District; a stone's throw from the staggeringly historic and, more importantly, very pretty Derwent Valley. It was in this village - a tumbling chaos of crumblingly ancient gritstone and sprawling 70's houses - which provided the infinitely charming backdrop for tasting the whisky.

We're starting quite solidly in the mainstream for this post with a 10 year old Glenmorangie. Supposedly perfected by the Sixteen Men of Tain Glenmorangie is an unremarkable but very pleasant single malt readily available from, well, basically anywhere which serves alcoholic fare of any real quality. By which I essentially mean everywhere that doesn't cater to students or BNP members. You should be able to find it in most pubs and even, I hear, in larger examples of Asda. Not that I've actually been in an Asda for years, it's something to do with all the green. It just doesn't seem all that inviting.

As a Speyside malt Glenmorangie has a smooth and light body and is, to my very untutored palette, a sweet, smoky and very easily drunk malt. This is a scotch which you can reasonably claim possesses hints of apricots and honey and nobody will look at you with the same scathing judgement they might use if you had just burst into a room wearing a beret and insisting that the lurid crimson vinegar you're swigging straight from a flat-bottomed, screw capped bottle contains 'a tantalising hint of wild red berries'. To put an end to this fairly awful metaphor this is as solidly unpretentious an expression as you're likely to find and is, in contrast to the fiery rawness of the Highlands or the wondrously complex and ever changing amber depths of Islay, about as inoffensive a malt as may be found. In fact, I challenge you to find a person with an even passing taste for scotch who doesn't admit an affection for this bottle. In this case inoffensiveness is positively high regard. Honest.

James

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