Age, then. It counts for nothing. Or such is the hope I cling to as stamina diminishes, hair starts growing in unaccustomed and frankly weird places, and disappears from my head at a rate of knots. All of which proves that age counts for something. And none of it good.
In the world of whisky, though, old age has tended to be the prime definition of a dram’s quality, even though the not-so-secret truth in the world of professional whisky production has always been that old is not necessarily best. Your average bottle of single malt whisky is actually a blend (loaded word, I know – let’s say mixture) of whiskies from a variety of casks, the youngest of which lends its age to what appears on the label. So something bearing the appellation ’10-year-old’ may contain 10, 12, 15 or even 20 year old whiskies, the aim usually being to bring to market a consistent taste that has come to be identified with the product. It’s a necessary part of branding, establishing loyalty and fulfilling expectations.
However, over the years and decades tastes and brands do change, some subtly, some drastically. Some blends (as in blended whisky) can alter year on year, naming no names. The problem, given the worldwide upsurge in demand for whisky, especially in its more upmarket manifestations, is that, inevitably, stocks of older whiskies run out. And if the quality of your brand is predicated on age, you have a problem.
The thing is, younger whiskies can be better than old ones. Very old whiskies can just be, well, awful. I will always remember paying an unexpected visit to a distillery where public relations cover was, let’s say, charitably, erratic. We were to collect a sample for a special one-off ‘blended malt’ and the on-site deputy manager led us around a lovely old warehouse, trying casks in a desperate search for one that was actually drinkable.
That was a revelation. Some casks were stinking, sulphurous and disgusting. Others were nearly empty. The angels in that area must have been working overtime. Eventually, we found something usable. But it wasn’t elderly. The ‘off’ casks were.
Another revelation – or perhaps epiphany is a better word – took place for me at a family-owned distillery where the stocks of older whiskies in bond are legendary throughout the industry (and the source of much jealousy) as well as being extremely well looked after. I speak of Glenfarclas, where a morning’s cask sampling revealed that the most stunning dram I tasted was just over three years old. A discussion with the warehouseman there hinted at the strange, magical and yet science-based discipline of maturing whisky in oak: what would that three-year-old be like in a decade, I pondered. Might be wonderful, came the reply. Might be terrible. Whiskies change, casks change, the weather changes.
Of course, if a cask shows signs of deterioration, you can decant the contents to something else made of wood without affecting its eventual age identification. The age on the label is the number of years in cask. Once in the bottle, the game’s a bogey, and the liquid should not change. Unless you open it, when it will start to go off. And yes, attempts are made in every part of the industry to take a dodgy whisky and ‘make it better’. Or flavour it by putting it in a barrel previously used for…oh, anything from herring to sardines. That usually has an effect.
All of which may go some way to explaining the launch of Macallan’s Amber range of whiskies, bearing no age identification but branded and marketed by their colour. And then there’s Glenlivet Alpha, sold in an opaque bottle with a coy plea for folk to try it and see what they think ‘without preconceptions’ — at least, that’s the thinking behind this video. Chivas are denying that their Glenlivet ploy is related to the Macallan initiative, but I think they doth protest too much. This is all about an attempt to change buying habits and quality perceptions.
And it’s been going on for a long time, to be honest. ‘No age statement’ whiskies of tremendous worth have been bottled and sold to great acclaim, two of my favourites being Aberlour A’bunadh (where the various ‘batch numbers’ show variations in style and have become a collecting obsession in themselves) and of course Glenfarclas 105. But then both distilleries have a lot of great casks to choose from. Of all ages.