Glenfarclas 25 Year

GLENFARCLAS SHOWDOWN Glenfarclas 10 Glenfarclas 17 Glenfarclas 25 Continuing to explore 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, and the “Glenfarclas” aspect is a common point 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 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 waxiness 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 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 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 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 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, 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.

This is the eleventh bottling in my journey to three hundred. I must have bypassed this expression numerous times in my initial exploration of whisky. It costs a considerable amount where I shop. I frequently considered how poor it must be, given the price. I have since learned better. Not by much, but enough. I am very happy to be sampling some nice aged statements as I move ever closer to three hundred. Nose: A few sharp whiffs that I can only attribute to sulphur notes, then into the pleasant characteristics. There's an initial menthol or wild mint scent for me that allows a rich and syrupy bouquet to unfold. Rich figs, espresso, molasses, bitter marmalade. It's all happening, and then some. A gentle warm spice profile is present and consists of equal parts crystallized ginger, cinnamon, with tobacco and leather-infused wood tannins. Palate: Surprisingly succulent, smooth, and gently textured. The mouthfeel is an excellent base here. No sign of sulphur, just a clean profile. Sherry, certainly. Strawberry, cherry, mocha, leather, a little herbal mint and cardamom. Almonds. There is a creamy malt though, the grain isn't lost to aggressive sherry casking. I believe honey is carried through with that malt cream presence too. Delightful. Over time the wood develops and reveals itself; wood shavings are dark as if stained by leather and tobacco smoke. The tannins are softened by the darkness and come with more ginger, perhaps cinnamon and clove. Milky chocolate runs as the unifying background thread. Finish: Long. The full palate is present, but it leaves a lasting bright juiciness, rich creaminess, and ultimately concludes with plain chocolate and the suggestion of jam on toast. This is undoubtedly a classic sherry cask profile, but age has mellowed this from what could have been an overpowering sherry experience into a more subdued and thoughtful dram with subtleties and nuance. The initial off-putting sulphur quickly subsided; I rarely enjoy sulphur notes (excepting one specific example) 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 skilled hand crafted this whisky. I’m an hour into this dram, admittedly it was a large pour, but having fully merged with my armchair I am feeling deeply satisfied with this liquid. This is not a magical transformative experience. It is not a groundbreaking dram that disrupts the norm or excels at anything in flashy fashion. This is a quiet, understated and generous 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 modest price point of this aged gem? Distillery whisky taste #294 [Pictured here with one of my singular favorite 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 wedding in September, I wanted something special to mark the occasion and share with loved ones. An expression of this age is uncommon for most, making it even more memorable. That day was truly special, and this scotch will forever evoke warm sentiments and recollections. Now, I have the quiet opportunity to truly analyze and appreciate its qualities. Upon the initial pour and aroma, a light, sweet, and fruity scent arises, reminiscent of a potpourri of fruits. As it develops, the nose expands and becomes more encompassing. Warmed fruitcake and a generous serving of brown sugared raisins emerge, influencing all other aromas. Notes of cinnamon, vanilla, French toast, maple syrup, pecans, sticky dates and figs, apricots, confectioners' sugar, and honeysuckle are present. It's sticky, sweet, and fruity. A subtle hint of wood spice and leather adds vibrancy to the overall aroma. As it truly settles, after a considerable time, the aroma of old library books strongly reinforces its age. It's a wonderfully complex and full aromatic profile. The spirit enters the palate with the delicate character of an aged individual, light and with a touch of spirit. Dark chocolate with a slight bitterness, laced with orange zest, coats the palate. Fruity raisins, Concord grapes, and sugary plums transition into earthier notes of walnuts, almonds, and oak. A hint of vibrancy appears as it moves towards the finish. Cinnamon, cloves, white pepper, and pickled ginger create a slight tingle on the tongue. The finish endures for a considerable duration. Wood spice, milk chocolate, raisins (akin to Raisinets), red grapes, orange zest, leather, and almonds gently and slowly fade, yet seem to linger. Glenfarclas is often overlooked and bypassed in favor of Macallan, Dalmore, or Glendronach. This 25-year-old is a thorough pleasure. The full nose, dynamic palate, and relatively long finish contribute to a quality dram. If you experience two out of the three stages with some depth, you'll be thoroughly satisfied. This will not disappoint. It's baffling how Glenfarclas can produce quality scotch, carefully crafted, at a more than reasonable price. However, for those who overlook this scotch, please continue to do so, selfishly leaving me with a large inventory that is always accessible. [$179][95/100][Tasted: 9/25/21; 12/17/21]

Reportedly in operation since the late 1700s, Glenfarclas was first licensed in 1836 and then bought by John Grant in 1865. Ever since, the company has successfully passed through six generations of family owners. Much like Springbank's Mitchell family, these are the only two distilleries in Scotland to remain family-owned and operated for over 150 years. Both still use the traditional dunnage style of warehousing and both seem to require a dedication to excellence to continue a distinguished legacy. In today's market with high demand, quality European oak ex-sherry casks have become more difficult to find for aging scotch, especially since most sherry producers mature their spirits using a solera system where casks are seldom relinquished. Furthermore, since 1986, distilleries have had limited access to transport casks, leading them to use sherry-seasoned American and European oak to compensate for this scarcity while still upholding a high standard of quality. Glenfarclas, however, sources European oak ex-oloroso sherry casks directly from a family-run bodega in Spain to ensure superior quality and authentic craftsmanship. All of this results in an excellent 25 year old whisky, available at a significantly lower price than is typical for a bottle of this age. The most recent publication from lists a price of $160 (US); however, the lowest price found in the Boston area was $229. Everything about this whisky reflects the exclusive use of ex-oloroso sherry casks for its maturation. Displaying a light amber hue in the glass, the thick spirit forms distinct legs. An aged, varnish-like aroma is divine and confirms the time spent in the barrel. Consumed neat at 43% ABV, the initial taste on the palate is effervescent, indicating the use of quality casks. The flavor is lively and characterized by nutty vanilla, dried fruits, and spice that continuously develops into a long, dry, and exceptionally satisfying oloroso finish. Simply outstanding!

Stamped 3 15 25 BB, if that's relevant. The packaging isn't impressive, and upon the first whiff, there's just a sweet malt character. The color is golden amber and appears viscous in the glass, more so than the 43% ABV might suggest. There's a sweet, almost maple wood note that leads, with cherries and baked goods (vanilla-frosted cinnamon roll) in support. There's also a hint of cerasote but no smoke and certainly no peat. Bits of chocolate cake, raisin, cigar box, marzipan, and an almswood-like spice are present. It's simply fantastic the more I experience it and exhale. It unfolds slowly, with nothing about it being rushed. No abrupt changes, no surprises. A burst of roasted, caramel-iced malt cereal blends into raisins and vanilla. The palate is oily, and the viscosity takes a moment to become noticeable. A bit of heat and baking spice emerge late, alongside stewed apples, more floral vanilla, a bourbon-like dried oak note, and a well-seasoned resin pipe tobacco. It's every bit as aged, sweet/earthy, and satisfying as some of my favorite well-aged bourbons, if not more so. Similar heat, similar body, and similar finish. The beginning is quite different. While this starts bright with malted grain, most bourbon tends to lead with oak due to new American oak barrels. However, after a few seconds, the dried fruit, subtle spice, and earthy sweetness are remarkable. A 2018 bottle of Noah's Mill had similar characteristics but was younger and less layered or complex. The finish is honestly very close to another age-stated bourbon I won't name. Exceptional. This drinks as if it were 107 proof, not 83. While there's no bite, there's a pleasant warmth and tingle in the mouth during the long and lingering finish. It's almost like I just finished maple-raisin oatmeal from a wooden bowl before it could cool. So, don't purchase this. I believe that's what I'm actually trying to convey. Stick with bourbon. Thanks.

This legendary whisky, considered by many to be the best value 25-year-old, offers a rich aroma of sherry mustiness, roasted nuts, floral notes, and honeyed fruits, followed by spices, leather, and polished wood. The taste mirrors the nose with a viscous mouthfeel, sherry, nuts, fruits, and spices, concluding with a long finish of sherry, dark chocolate, fruit, spices, leather, and oak. Unlike a previous experience with a younger expression, the flavors here are well-integrated, with sherry leading into a harmonious blend of floral and fruit notes, finishing with light barrel spices and aged leather and oak. Disappointingly, the price has increased significantly, but it remains a good value compared to other 25-year-olds. Thanks for the generous sample.