Glenfarclas 25 Year

GLENFARCLAS SHOWDOWN Glenfarclas 10 Glenfarclas 17 Glenfarclas 25 Continuing to work through whiskies in my collection that I’ve not yet reviewed: and while these are each quite different expressions, and thus should contain noticeable differences, they are the only Glenfarclases I have in my collection, and the “Glenfarclas” aspect is a common denominator for comparison. I’ve tasted each of them previously, several times, and my recollection is that Glenfarclas is somewhat subtle across the board, which is a bit unusual for a sherried whisky. Let’s see if my recollection is accurate. Glenfarclas 10 Color is a clear Pantone 153. The fragrant nose was immediately apparent upon pouring, with clear sherry notes: dark plums, carrot cake, dark butterscotch, and warm mulled cider. There appears to be a very thin, almost parrafin-waxy mouthcoating aspect in the mouth. The palate has some honeyed sweetness, some char, and a surprising spice for the 40% ABV. There is an almost smokey burnt orange on the finish, which is in-between short and medium in length. But keeping the mouth closed, inhaling and exhaling through the nose, an almost petroleum, tar-like phenolic element appears much later: subtle, but lingering very long (the aforementioned paraffin wax is also a derivative of the petroleum process; obviously there’s no petroleum here, but the two may be related in some way). I’ve written many times about the economics of 80-proof whisk(e)y: it is the bare minimum proof that is allowed. A distiller dilutes the distillate from the barrel with water to reach a particular proof (ABV); thus an 80-proof whisky will give the largest amount of whisky allowable from the same amount of “raw” whisky, thus increasing yield and number of bottles. That being said, this is Farclas’s entry-level whisky, and given the bottle’s age statement and the brand’s otherwise traditional, old-school craftsmanship, I can look past this shortcoming a bit. Would I prefer the more standard 43% ABV / 86 proof? Unquestionably. But as is, the whisky is complex, aromatic, and flavorful. It is without a doubt the best 80-proof whisk(e)y I’ve ever experienced, and far more complex than I remember. This is a whisky which, like Oban, would appeal to the entire spectrum of consumers, from neophyte to connoisseur; it is approachable, pleasant, and yet complex. Widely available, and priced around $50. Would I buy it again? Without question. Solid 4.0 on the Distiller scale. I feel certain that I’d rate the 12-year higher, given its 43% ABV. I can’t wait to try it. Chill-filtered; uncolored; 40% ABV. Glenfarclas 17 Surprisingly, the color of the 17 is a clear Pantone 153, despite the longer maturation; perhaps the sherry-cask aging component is of the same length as the 10-year. The initial impression is similar to the 10, but a bit more muted on the nose: it begins with both pomander and stewed cinnamon apples, unexpected strawberry jam, Christmas cake, vanilla, and dates. Whereas butterscotch was evident on the 10, it’s not nearly as noticeable here. The entry is smoother, with some caramelized sugar sweetness and a gentle espresso bitterness, and the higher alcohol is kept in check. The finish is medium in length, with a soft, wet-oak element, and a smidgin of woody tannins; but it lacks that lingering petroleum aspect that was evident with the 10. The 17-year-old Farclas can be found for around $125. It is a different whisky than the 10-year, as it should be; but the overall impression is one of more subtlety and smoothness rather than overt “betterness” per se. Would I buy it again? Not as quickly as I would the 10-year, but I’d like to think that I would, despite the significantly higher price. The extra age is always a positive, even if only intellectually. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. Chill-filtered; uncolored; 43% ABV. Glenfarclas 25 The clear Pantone 153 color is identical to the 17 and 10, which seems unusual given the older age. This is different: the tar that I noted on the 10-year has returned, this time on the nose, along with dark honey, apple cider, and warm spice cake—with a pat of now-melted butter (perhaps the extra wood exposure introduces some diacetyl). Like the 10-year, the butterscotch has returned, but this time it’s not Brach’s candy, but some sort of imaginary artisanal, rare, perfected butterscotch—if such a thing exists. Cocoa. Vanilla. Espresso. Chocolate-covered cherries. There’s no real viscosity on the palate; the smoothness is not in the creaminess of the mouthfeel, but rather in the flavor integration. Sweet, but not cloyingly so. Lots of sherry on the finish, as well as some drying, leathery notes. The closed-mouth, inhale-exhale tar aspect returns, having skipped a generation (the 17-year), though not as pronounced as the 10-year. There’s something special about drinking a 25-year-old whisky. Time cannot be substituted or rushed. I purchased this particular bottle a few years ago, and who knows how long it had been sitting on the shelf; the combination of these three items mean that it was distilled well before the millennium. The Farclas 25 drinks like a 25-year-old First-Growth Bordeaux: the age is apparent, but there’s plenty of gas in the tank. It’s the same “iron fist in a silken glove” that is often applied to a quality, aged Cabernet or meritage blend. Glenfarclas has 40- and 50-year old expressions available; and while I don’t know if I’ll have the opportunity to experience them, I’m willing to bet that my overall impression with be similar—a combination of youthful exuberance and aged experience, imparting the best of both worlds. Would I buy it again? I’d like to, though I’ll savor this one for some time. I’ve shared it with one or two friends on special occasions. I don’t recall exactly what I paid for it—I think it was around $150 a few years back. An Internet search reveals that it can be had for $200-250 currently. That’s certainly not inexpensive, but if you can swing it, and can take the time to delineate complexity from ostentatiousness, the answer is a resounding yes. 4.5 on the Distiller scale. Uncolored; 43% ABV. Overall summary Glenfarclas is a traditional, family-owned, old-school distillery. To my knowledge, they don’t produce NAS whisky. They also don’t employ the marketing hype or fancy packaging of some other distilleries; they just produce damn good whisky that achieves an objective goodness on its own merits. It is priced relatively lower than other whiskies with similar age statements; perhaps that’s a function of not being owned by one of the corporate behemoths like Diageo or Pernod Ricard. I’ve not enjoyed any of my three Farclas bottlings in some time—a lapse in good judgment that I’ll rectify in short order. Each of these expressions is outstanding—the 10-year in particular, given the 40% ABV, and the fact that it is the youngest of the three. Given the quality of the 10-year, I would actively seek out the 12-year: while it only possesses two extra years of aging, it has the higher 43% ABV, and I would expect an even more enjoyable flavor profile. And I’d love to have the Glenfarclas 105 cask strength, which I see rarely in my neck of the woods, and have yet to purchase. I’ll be keeping my eyes out for it. The Glenfarclas range, or at least these three bottlings, represents a different sherry-cask influence, in my experience: they’re a bit more youthful. Whereas a whisky connoisseur commonly associates dark fruit, stewed fruit, and more intense baking spices with sherry-casked drams, each of these Glenfarclas expressions emit a younger fruitiness. These aren’t sherry bombs like Aberlour A’Bunadh (which I adore) or Edradour (which I also love); nor do they exhibit the refinement of a sherry-finished whisky like Macallan 18, which, while expensive, is nevertheless a high quality benchmark. Glenfarclas to me is a bit more rustic, though certainly not rough; think “gentleman farmer” to Macallan’s urbane refinement. There was a time a few years back in my drinking experience where I was purchasing every release of Aberlour A’Bunadh, which is a cask-strength offering. Perhaps its high-octane experience jaded my palate somewhat to Glenfarclas when I would taste it (not side-by-side, but sporadically during the same period). Glenfarclas represents old-school balance—think pre-Parker overextracted wine, or pre-whatever overhopped IPAs—and is a benchmark of what a sherry-finished Highland single-malt should be. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

Number 7 in the countdown to 300. I must have walked past Glenfarclas 25 a dozen or more times in my early foray into whisky. AUD$350 in my big liquor store. I often thought to myself how rubbish it must be, $350, Highland Park 25 is around AUD$1000. This Glenfarclas must be cheap slops. I have learned since then. Not a lot, but enough. I am very pleased to be moving into some nice age statements as I edge ever closer to 300. N: A few harsh whiffs of what I can only chalk up to sulphur notes and then into the good stuff. There is a nose opening menthol or wild mint early on for me that allows a rich and oozy bouquet to unravel. Rich figs, espresso, treacle, bitter marmalade. It’s all going on, and then some. A gentle warm spice profile is present and made of equal parts crystallised ginger, cinnamon, with tobacco and leather laden wood tannins. P: Surprisingly juicy, creamy, and gently textured. The mouthfeel is an excellent canvas here. No hint of sulphur, just a whistle clean profile. Sherry, sure. Strawberry, cherry, mocha, leather, a little herbal mint and cardamon. Almonds. There is a creamy barely though, the malt is not lost to aggressive sherry casking. I think honey is carried through with that barely cream presence too. Lovely. Over time the wood develops and unfolds; wood shavings are dark as if stained by leather and tobacco smoke. The tannins are tempered by the darkness and come with more ginger, maybe cinnamon and clove. Milky chocolate runs the background unifying thread. F: Long. The full palate is here, but it leaves a lasting bright juiciness, rich creaminess, and ultimately goes out to plain chocolate and the suggestion of jam on toast. This is undeniably a classic sherry cask profile, but age has tempered this from what could have been a sherry bomb into a more demure and considered dram with subtleties and nuance. The initial off-putting sulphur quickly subsided, I rarely like sulphur notes (Mjolner excepted) and but moments in the glass were enough to see it off. The palate is somehow walking a razor thin line between bright and juicy and rich and dark. A deft hand crafted this whisky. I’m an hour into this dram, admittedly it was a large 50 ml pour, but having fully merged with my arm chair I am feeling deeply satisfied with this liquid. This is not a magical transformative experience. It is not a revolutionary dram that rocks the boat or excels at anything in flamboyant fashion. This is a quiet, understated and magnanimous whisky that affords enjoyment to, I suspect, the beginner through to the expert. I have found quiet peace in the bottom of this dram and that surely is worth more than the meagre price point of this 25 year old gem? Distiller whisky taste #294 [Pictured here with one of my singular favourite rocks: a banded metagabbro-eclogite from Lago Superiore in NW Italy. This rock is from part of a 35 km long shear zone through a metaophiolite complex in the Piemonte area of Italy. These metamorphic rocks represent complex geological histories and originate from cumulate (layers of crystal mush) gabbros found deep at the base of oceanic crust later thrust onto the earths surface as an ophiolite after being metamorphosed during subduction processes at around 550 degrees C and up to 2.8 GPa and then further altered by retrograde processes on the way up. Light bands are comprised of retrograde epidote, actinolite and plagioclase. Dark bands are comprised of predominantly prograde omphacite. The banding reflects original igneous layers enriched in Fe+Ti (light green) and Mg-Al (dark green)].

For my eldest son’s nuptials, back in September, I wanted to get something special to commemorate and share with friends and family. Something of this age is not very common for most, which only makes it extra special. That day was extra special. This scotch will always invoke those warm feelings and remembrances. So now, I find myself quietly free to really taste this and put on an analytical hat. Upon initial pour and nosing, a light, sweet and fruity aroma awakens the senses. A fruit bowl potpourri. As time progresses, the nose blossoms and encompasses. What emerges is warmed fruit cake and a big bowl of brown sugared raisins which all other aromas are influenced by. Cinnamon, vanilla, French toast, maple syrup, pecans, sticky dates and figs, apricots, confectionery sugar and honeysuckle. Sticky sweet and fruity. A slight bit of wood spice and leather which gives the overall nose a sense of vibrancy. As it really settles in, after a serious amount of time, the must of old library books really reinforces the age. A wonderfully busy and full aromatic nose. The scotch enters the palate like an aged person. Delicately, light and with a bit of vim. Dark chocolate with the slight bitterness that has been laced with orange zest coats the palate. Fruity raisins, Concord grapes and sugary plums which then segues into more earthy walnuts, almonds and oaken wood. A bit of vibrancy emerges as it works towards the finish. Cinnamon, cloves, white pepper, pickled ginger all cause the tongue to prickle. The finish extends for a fair length of time. Wood spice, milk chocolate, raisins (think Raisinets) , red grapes, orange zest, leather and almonds all lightly and slowly fade yet seem to linger. Glenfarclas: often overlooked and passed over for Macallan, Dalmore or Glendronach. This 25 is quite a pleasure, through and through. The full nose, the dynamic palate and the relatively lengthy finish all make for a quality dram. If you have a pour and can get two of the three stages with some breadth, you are pleasantly satisfied. This will not disappoint. How Glenfarclas can produce quality scotch, carefully crafted and at a price that is more than reasonable, I haven’t a clue. But for those who overlook this scotch, please continue to do so, selfishly leaving me with a large pool of inventory that can always be found. [$179][95/100][Tasted: 9/25/21; 12/17/21]

- Purported operational since the late 1700s, Glenfarclas was first licensed in 1836 then acquired by John Grant in 1865. Since then, the business has successfully navigated through six generations of family heirs. Similar to Springbank’s Mitchell family, the two distilleries are Scotland’s only to remain family-owned-and-operated for over 150 years. Both companies still utilize the time-cherished method of dunnage style warehousing and both seemingly demand a commitment to excellence necessary to carry on a noble legacy. In this current era of high demand, quality European oak ex-sherry casks have become harder to source for aging scotch, especially since most sherry producers use a solera system for maturation where casks are rarely parted with. Also, since 1986 distilleries access to transport casks dried up, and they have resorted to using sherry-seasoned American & European oak to make up this shortfall while still maintaining a high level quality. However, Glenfarclas obtains European oak ex-oloroso sherry casks directly from a family-operated bodega in Spain to guarantee superiority and authenticity in craftsmanship. All this translates into a superb 25 year old whisky, available for a fraction of what is customary for a bottle in this age bracket. The latest publication of @whiskyadvocate quotes a price of $160 (US); however, $229 was the least expensive found in the Boston area. Everything about this whisky speaks to the ex-oloroso sherry casks exclusively used for its maturation. Presenting light amber in the glass, the viscous spirit produces hard-forming legs. An antique, varnish-like nose is heavenly and corroborates the story of time spent in the barrel. Drank neat at 43% ABV, the first hit on the tongue is effervescent and a good indicator of quality casks. The palate is vibrant and dominated by nutty vanilla, dried fruits, and spice that continually builds into a long dry and hugely satisfying oloroso finish. Simply outstandingly!

Stamped 3 15 25 BB, if that’s relevant. Nothing impressive with the packaging and with a crack and first whiff - just sweet malt character. The color is a golden amber and appears viscous in the glass, more so than the 43%ABV would lead me to believe. There is a sweet, almost maple wood note that leads with cherries and baked goods (vanilla frosted cinnamon roll) in support. There’s a bit of cerasote as well but not smoke and certainly not peat. Bits of chocolate cake, raisin, cigar box, marzipan and an almswood like spice. Just fantastic the more I take it in and breathe it out. It just rolls out slowly, nothing about this is in a hurry. No sharp turns, no surprises. A burst of roasted, caramel iced malt cereal rolls into raisins and vanilla. The palate is oily and the viscosity takes a moment it make itself know. A bit of heat and baking spice show up late alongside stewed apples, more floral vanilla, a bourbon-esque dried oak note and a well seasoned resin pipe tobacco. It’s every bit as aged and sweet/earthy and satisfying as some of my favorite well aged bourbons if not more so . Simile heat, similar body and similar finish. The beginning is quite different. Whereas this starts bright with malted grain most bourbon tends to lead with oak thanks to the new American oak barrels. More than a few seconds in though... the dried fruit, subtle spice, earthy sweetness... wow. One bottle of Noah’s Mill from 2018 had similar features but younger and not as layered or complex. Honesty very close in finish to another age stated bourbon I will not name. Exceptional. This drinks like it’s 107 proof as well, not 83. While there is no bite there is a nice heat and tingle in the mouth during the long and lingering finish. Almost like I just downed maple-raisin oatmeal from a wooden bowl before it could cool. So, don’t buy this. I think that’s what I’m actually trying to say. Stick with bourbon. Thanks.

After reading many great reviews that this is probably the best VFM 25 year old here on Distiller, I am finally getting around to trying this legendary whisky. The nose is very rich starting with a sherry grape mustiness alongside roasted nuts of almond and macadamia. After the initial sherry notes, comes floral notes of orange blossom, honeysuckle that transitions to fruits of honey dew, apricots, lychee, dehydrated apple chips that slowly fades to light spices of ginger, cinnamon, leather and old polished mahogany with light ethanol burn. The taste starts with a rich and viscous mouthfeel with sherry notes of dark chocolate covered raisins, then roasted nuts, leading to fruits of honey dew, oranges, apple chips, apricots and lychee before a slow transition to light spices of ginger, cloves, cinnamon sticks, leather, and old polished mahogany with light ethanol burn. The finish is medium length with a sherry blast first with dark chocolate covered raisins and musty grape then orange peel, candied ginger, peach ring candy, toasted walnuts, macadamia, cloves, leather and old polished mahogany. After having the 17, I was worried for another bitter fruit zest finish, but the flavors are integrated wonderfully with the sherry notes leading before a harmonious mix of floral and fruits that finishes with light barrel spices and well-aged leather and oak notes. Unfortunately, it appears I found out about this too late, as the Virginia ABC is now selling these for 245 instead of the 170 it was prior. It's still a good VFM whisky compared to other 25 year olds and thanks for the generous sample @ContemplativeFox.