Lads:
I had planned to drink the entire 4 day weekend, since Larry was coming in and wouldn't have it any other way. But given I was the one cooking the Bird on Thanksgiving and we all had a thousand last-minute chores to do when preparing for relatives (pull the skeletons out of the closet and hide the best silverware), catching a clean moment for a wee dram was going to be rough. A few weeks ago, I bought a bottle of Ardbeg 10yr in Hoboken at 10% off (why, cause it was 'old'?) and it was now sitting under the desk in my office, taunting me the way Laurie T. did in 8th grade: waiting to be opened, but I just wasn't ready, dude. Now that I think of it, there was a certain "peatiness" to Laurie and she sure was smoky for a kid. But try as I might, I don't remember her being under my desk.
I hadn't had the Ardbeg, or Laurie for that matter, and picked November to try it out. What better time for the warmth of an Islay than when the first cold winds of Autumn are whipping down your neck, getting underneath your shirt making your nipples har...wait, that was Laurie again. I ran into the Ardbeg at the latest WhiskyFest in October and waited till the end of the evening to approach, after the sweetness of the Spey's had faded and that disappointing Glenfiddich 21 year finished in Rum Barrel was a bad memory. For some reason, Ardbeg's not been getting a lot of good press on the wires, and that's precisely why I wanted it: it was the underdog and I'm a natural contrarian, and most people don't know how to really appreciate an Islay in the first place. For godsakes, laddies, this is a rrreal Scotch herrrre. Scott's been wanting to taste it for a while now, because its an "A" whisky in the front of Michael Jackson's 5th Edition and he passes the gatekeeper each time he reads it cover to cover (what is it now Scott, 7 times through?)
I forgot that Larry was a beer and cocktails guy and he loves the Jagermeister, and when was the witch of November to come stealin'? It's 65 degrees and sunny, I'm looking for the Pimm's Cup and mojito recipies and the Ardbeg's sitting under the desk so long the Hoboken guys called to take another 5% off. I'm thinking this baby may never get its seal cracked, which made me wonder what Laurie's up to in 2007.
However, we had a break. It was still cool enough to light up the backyard wood furnace and with Larry volunteering to earn a Visiting Brother-in-Law Merit Badge by getting and keeping the homefire burning, I see my chance so off I go for the tasting glass and the Ardbeg. I sit a while at the small round table, getting a whiff of conversation and a waft of burning logs. Then the 'snap' of the seal being cracked.
She comes into the glass pale and soft, yellow like straw. The first nose is a gentle smoke, different than the flaming wood fire and Larry's shirt sleeve. There's the peat, again a gentle waft of smoke up the side of the nostrils, similar to the flames climbing up Larry's arm toward his shoulder. I picked up pine cone and a little aromatic wood and some flower. Slightly phenolic but not overwhelming and mixed with some chocolate. Hard to concentrate on the delicate aroma with Larry yelling and waving his arms wildly at the edge of the yard.
The feel is round and soft at first on the tongue, and like most Islays, spreads out warm, bit of oil, then comes a slight astringency on the edges. Primary taste is smoky wood, mildly medicinal with that chocolate again, following. Nicely balanced. This is one to chew on, swirl around. Finish is wonderful, maybe the best part of the tasting: long, smooth, lingering smoke and warm. Let it linger in the back of the throat for a few minutes and I swear there was some toffee there on the tip of the tongue. This is a wonderful Islay, has the character you'd expect from this island, but nothing big or over-powering, unlike Larry, who is now rolling around on the ground and hollering, banging his arms on the ground as if he were a holy man on a 3 day bender. If only he was a Scotch drinker, he wouldn't need to get all hot under the collar.
As I look at the glass, the legs are still lingering on the inside, attesting to its strength of character. I wish I could say the same for Larry, who is now bothering our neighbors about giving him a ride to somewhere, I think I hear hospital. He's from out of town, who would he be visiting?