Even our dear Prime Minister David Cameron
is not immune from such forgetful behaviour, though it has to be said leaving your child in a pub after a
Sunday lunch and not realising until after you’ve driven halfway home is slightly
less forgivable.
Now given its rotundness, weight and prominence you would think a
whisky cask would be one of the last things that could be easily forgotten or
mislaid. Well you would be wrong and for 40 years a few casks from the Bunahabhain
distillery were just that.
Infact if it wasn’t for Master Distiller Ian MacMillan,
these casks may have gone on to be forgotten, but after recently perusing the
distillery ledgers in some detail, he miraculously came across the said forgotten
bounty, which was hidden away in the distillery warehouse.
Now found and bottled the Bunnahabhain 40 Year Old has been launched with a limited 750 bottle release, and after being very fortunate to sample it, I
can confirm that it well and truly is a little drop of Bunnaheaven, and
proof if proof is needed that some things are best forgotten, well at least for 40 years anyway.
The nose kicks off with a cosy calorific cavalcade of warm banoffee
pie, crushed digestive biscuits, squares of Fry’s chocolate orange cream and a couple
of the strawberry creams from a box of Thornton’s Continentals.
Opulent and far from becoming overpowering bouts of oak
continue the nasal proceedings, along with hints of black cherry, beeswax, heathery
honey and all the splendour of an early morning forage in a forest.
Verbena leaves and dried Turkish rose petals make for the
next set of delights, along with an infusion of winter spice, macadamia nuts
and a subtle whiff of the coast.
The palate kicks off with a harmonious huddle of honeydew
melon and a cracking cranachan that exudes all the exquisiteness of peak season
autumn raspberries. Followed slices of grilled pineapple and banana, dribbled
with melted dark chocolate.
The inhaled wares from a spiced orange Yankee Candle make
for the next set of palatable protuberances, along with some oozing oak infused
vanilla and some damp garden earthiness.
Those digestives make reappearance, as do the macadamias,
only this time they’re toasted and accompanied by a conservative sprinkling of
winter spice and a subtle coastal wisp.
Once all the nosing and tasting hurdles have been jumped, or
in this case effortlessly enjoyed, this dramspanking drop of drammage completes
one final flourishing lap of honour, by delivering a finesseful finish that
doesn’t over linger or under deliver.
This is a bountiful balanced Bunna from start to finish, which in many respects is much more youthful than either the nose or palate suggests. But for the price you may want to check that off shore Swiss bank account that you may of forgotten about.
This is a bountiful balanced Bunna from start to finish, which in many respects is much more youthful than either the nose or palate suggests. But for the price you may want to check that off shore Swiss bank account that you may of forgotten about.
