Brora 21 y.o. Rare Malts

56.9% abv

Score:  92/100

Let’s do another Brora.  This time from the Rare Malts line released by Diageo (then UDV, I believe…or maybe just having become what is now known as Diageo?) back in the late 90s.

The Rare Malts line-up ran for a decade or so, from 1995 through 2005, before ultimately the decision was made on high to discontinue the branding and concentrate exclusively on the parallel annual releases, which were being bottled to similar standards and strengths.  The Rare Malts releases are now secondary market fixtures, highly sought after by collectors and connoisseurs.  If the opportunity does arise for a taste, do try.  It’s like drinking a piece of history.

Whisky in its late teens or early 20s tends to fall right into a bit of a sweet spot for me.  There’s just something so vibrantly alive in Scotch within this age bracket, yet at the same time they tend to be sophisticated, complex and able to wear the years with grace.  This Brora is no different.  In fact, it’s a shining example of just that.

Any contemporary releases of Brora (while few and far between) are now hitting the shelves in their early 30s, sue simply to the fact that this Highland distillery was mothballed (and subsequently partially cannibalized) in 1983, a solid three decades ago.  Having gone through a couple of the more mature variants recently, it seemed about time to look back a little and see what this distillery can boast of in its younger incarnations.  As it turns out…quite a lot.

This particular release is cask #2758 from 1977, and it’s a different kind of Brora.  Lighter and sweeter than I’d expect.  There’s a home-iness about this one that rings true and rockets it up my list of favorite drams.  Very clean.  Very defined.  Great personality.  It makes me think back to farmhouse kitchens (and yes…when I was wee I did spend a LOT of time in ’em), with a profile hinting at back-to-the-earth farmy characteristics well met with the pleasant memories of home baking.  While those are my immediate olfactorily driven connotations, it ignores the fact that this is a hefty dram at nearly 57% abv.  That should tell you that, while I refer to it as ‘pleasant’ and ‘gentle’, it is certainly not one for the faint of heart.

Great whisky from a distillery we miss very much.*

Nose:  Orange and nutmeg.  Some lovely cherry notes and warm leather.  Fresh hay.  A little peat, yes, but surprisingly tame here.  Soft, gentle and beautiful.  The comfort of warm caramel pudding.  Wonderfully sweet and balanced.

Palate:  Smoke now.  Grainy and farmyard-like.  Citrus tang and some fruit skin flavours and feel.  Anise.  A whiff of eucalyptus.  Bold delivery belies the softness of the nose.  Gorgeous.  Simply gorgeous.  I would think this was older than 21, to be honest.

*Do note…last I read the stills and such were still in place.  One can only dream of a Lazrus act, no?

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Brora 30 y.o. (DL Old & Rare Platinum Selection)

57.5% abv

Score:  93/100

Oh boy.

This is a special dram.  Like…really special.  Just sitting down with a few drops of this is immediately one of those truly unforgettable whisky moments.  Being able to do it more than once is like marrying the prom queen.

The concept of Brora fellation is not new.  For years the hype has been building from one of an undercurrent flowing through the blogs and forums to a crescendo of deafening despair for lost opportunities and being born years too late.  It’s ok, friends.  I’m wailing along with you.  It’s whiskies like this that lend credence to the argument that these lost distilleries were something really special.

This 30 year old Douglas Laing (bottled years before the Laing brother break-up) was packaged under the Old & Rare Platinum Selection Single Cask Series.  You always have to wonder whether or not a single cask is the best representation of the distillery, but in this case it doesn’t even matter.  This is a beautiful whisky irrespective of brand, providence, marketability or price point.

Born in the mid seventies (a couple years prior to the birth of your ‘umble narrator), this spirit left the comfort of cask and made for the big time via bottle in 2007.  That a few last bottles lingered on shelves until just weeks ago speaks not to the quality of the whisky in any way, but simply to the sad fact that the powers that be have more intellect than we’re wont to give them credit for, and have priced the dram accordingly.  (About $800CA give or take, if memory serves).  The thing is…money comes and goes.  Whisky like this however?  Well…it just goes.

I should note…a mate of mine with exceptional taste in whisky didn’t find this one quite up to the standards that I did, but it brings me back to one of the greatest sentiments I’ve ever heard expressed regarding differing opinions.  For the life of me, I can’t recall who said it, but I’d love to give credit where credit is due (was it on Connosr somewhere perhaps?).  It went something like this:  “Thank God we all have different tastes, otherwise everyone would be in love with my wife.”

Not 100% certain, but this is quite possibly my favorite Brora yet.  Exceptional.

Nose:  Peat and farmy notes collide up front.  A lot of moist lovely tobacco.  Dark cherry.  Rubber and billowy smoke.  Man…what a glorious collision of peat and fruit…simply magic.  Some mixed fruits atop warm cream of wheat.  Wet rock.  Caramel.  There’s more here, but now I just need to sit back and enjoy with eyes closed.

Palate:  Some impossibly beautifully sweet notes.  Peat and smoke.  A little but wine-ish.  Overwhelmingly intense mouthfeel.  Salt and pepper meet lemon.  Gooey orange and possibly raspberry.  Touch of Amaretto, brings together some sweet fruits and drying nutty flavours.  Wow.  Just wow.

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt

Brora 30 y.o. 2009

53.2% abv

Score:  91.5/100

As Brora becomes more and more scarce on the scene, the odds of most drammers having an opportunity to taste it are becoming more and more stacked against us.  It’s a sad fact in a world ruled by free market and supply and demand.

The good news, however, is that we’re in an age of more potential ‘Broras’ than ever.  Not in the literal sense, of course, but figuratively speaking.  Back in its day, Brora was just a peated spirit from yet another Highland distillery, and not necessarily recognized as the legendary elixir it is now often given to be.  As we speak, there are well over a hundred operational distilleries in Scotland and apparently a whole bunch more in the early stages of planning, permitting and construction.  Where I’m going with this?  There are many opportunities to discover the ‘next Brora’.

Any folks out there who may be wanting to approach the flavour profile (as near as I can figure it) but are unlikely so score their own bottles of Brora…I’d suggest maybe saving your money for older Longrow releases.  The oldest OB Longrow released to date has been an 18 year old, but fingers crossed that at some point we see 25 and 30 year variants.  I think they’ll reach a similar profile.  These and maybe Port Charlotte when it finally approaches its early 20s.

For those not in the know, Brora was a Highland distillery that closed its doors in 1983, amid the rash of distillery closures tied to whisky world’s version of the Great Depression.  I’m not sure what the young Brora malt was like at that point, but what little was left to slumber in the warehouses gradually took on a flavour and mystique of epic proportions.  It was also generally bottled at a healthy two or three decades of age.  Rightly or wrongly this is the standard to which Brora is held to today.  You can see the unfairness of holding what we contemporarily think of as a standard Brora (if there is such a thing) in the same league as most other distilleries on the menu, which are usually served up at a whopping old age of…12.  Or if you’re splurging…18.  Hmmm…if all whiskies were allowed to hit 30 years, I’d bet the farm we’d see a lot more ‘Broras’.  Just my speculation.

Anyway…these annual Diageo special releases are probably the most accurate representation of true Brora, as they are a vatting of multiple casks, whereas most of the others you’ll find (if at all) are liable to be single cask variants by the independent bottlers, and highly subject to variations.  Make no mistake due to the rambling nature of my lead-in, though…this is Brora.  And it’s fucking awesome stuff.

Nose:  Much lighter than the only other 30 year old OB I’ve tried (2005 edition)*.  White pepper.  Lightly aromatic farmy, peaty and smoky notes.  Musk.  A perfume-iness meets some floral influence.  Vanilla is fairly up front.  Orange and lemon.  Fresh ground spice (dry, dusty and somewhat exotic…shorthand for ‘I can’t quite put my finger on it).  Paraffin.  Soft, chewy cookies with mild baking spice.

Palate:  Quite some peat and dry pepper are mashed up with some syrupy sweetness.  Anise and flint notes follow in step.  Peat and heat follow a moment or two after that.  Smoky, as to be expected.  A neat little bit of tartness.  Utterly delicious.

*Oops…that was a lie.  I was one of the guilty few at Andrew Ferguson’s place who helped speed up the evaporation rate on a bottle of the 2010 edition.  It wasn’t my fault though!  Blame the Maltmonster.

– Reviewed by:  Curt

– Photo:  Curt