Glenburgie 2011 10yo

Càrn Mòr Strictly Limited Series | 47.5% ABV

Score: 5/10

Average. In a good way.

TL;DR
Bang average and not too memorable, but easy sipping – and that’s ok

 

Getting it done.

When I’m not sipping whisky, working, spending time with Mrs. Dunmore (who, lucky for me, also likes whisky), and otherwise adulting in ways that I need to, I’m lucky to have a range of hobbies that keep me out of trouble.

Movies (or, as I talk about them with other geeks, films), walking across the epic Scottish landscape (the Trossachs and the Ochils most recently), listing to music of all types (The National, Springsteen, Bill Evans, and various weird ambient electronica have all been the recent rotation. Don’t judge me...), and reading widely all cater to my eclectic passions in ways that keep the devil’s idle hands at bay. 

Another of my hobbies is running. Now, I don’t mention this as some sort of subtle-not-so-subtle humble-brag. There are links between whisky and running – the Dramathon is a classic Speyside race starting at Glenfarclas and ending in Dufftown at Glenfiddich. But, this isn’t a humble brag because I’m far from the world’s best runner. I’m far from Scotland’s best runner. I’m far from my street’s best runner. I am not, dear Dramfacers, a great runner.

You’ve seen amazing looking runners frequently at your local park or on your street. You see them galloping like a gazelle gracefully across the savannah, with great upright form, wearing bright clean kit, effortlessly keeping up a great pace without seemingly raising their breath, and smiling all the while as it appears it’s so little effort for them. You see that person? Now, squint your eyes and look half a kilometre behind them. You see that other figure slowly coming up? The one hunched with clearly compromised form, wearing old, dirty kit, clomping loudly with each tired step, breathing heavily, sweating profusely like a pig running from the slaughterhouse, grumbling under his breath, scowling discomfort should you have the misfortune of making eye contact with him? That’s me, “running.”

I’m not a great runner, but truth be told I love it. In a love/hate sort of way. In a Type 2 Fun kind of way. There are all sorts of runs that take place during the course of a week or month. Some runs are events and races (where I pay other people so I can run on a route they tell me to). Other runs are training runs, where I’m aiming to keep a certain pace (badly) over a certain distance. Training runs have certain goals in mind. Other runs, though, are simply maintenance. Keeping gluttony and sloth at bay – as much as possible, at least. Getting the blood pumping because I’ve had a long day at work and I simply need to move.

These runs, while the least gazelle-like, are often just as important to keep up with as other more goal-oriented runs. Doing a run whose only aim is to simply move keeps the muscles loose and keep the heart rate up through aerobic exercise does the same kind of work in a different way. In the portfolio of types of running, there are the big runs with goals, but also the unremarkable maintenance runs that simply get the job done in a basic way.

Some whiskies are like this. We drink some malts with goals in mind: analysing, taking detailed tasting notes, or maybe close comparison with another malt. Some whiskies are “event” whiskies that you devote significant time and attention to and give them respect they deserve. Other whiskies, though, we go to for much more basic reasons: we want something decent to drink, but when watching a movie (ahem, film) we don’t want anything complicated.

Whiskies that are “maintenance” malts that keep our palates engaged but are otherwise fairly unremarkable and forgettable. These aren’t meant as criticisms, really: just as my slow, plodding, basic runs are needed, so these whiskies help to get the job done when you want something basic but tasty enough. They have a necessary place in most of our cabinets, as many of us would likely agree.

 

 

Review

Glenburgie 2011 10yo, Càrn Mòr Strictly Limited Series, PX Sherry Hogsheads, 47.5% ABV
~£45 RRP (£30 paid at auction)

By my count, and a bit surprisingly, this is Dramface’s first Glenburgie review. If I could be allowed to wildly speculate on why that might be, I would wager that it probably has less to do with the intrinsic quality of the spirit and more about its positioning and availability.

The ever-excellent Malt Whisky Yearbook tells us that Speysider Glenburgie has been around a long time (since 1810), has like most old distilleries changed hands many times over the centuries, was rebuilt in the early 2000s, and now produces mostly to supply much of the mix for Ballantine’s blends.

While the Yearbook notes an official bottling from owner Chivas Brothers/Pernod Ricard in the form of a 15 year old under the Ballantine’s brand, I can’t recall ever seeing it anywhere online or in a brick-and-mortar shop. So, it’s probably safe to say that official Glenburgie is fairly hard to run across.

On the indie scene, however, Glenburgie is frequently seen. A somewhat regular staple of independent bottlers, you can find many different permutations of Glenburgie across ages, cask types, and ABVs from Signatory, SMWS, Cadenhead’s, Little Brown Dog, and others. The fact that we haven’t yet covered a Glenburgie is therefore likely down to the ridiculous amount of choice we have these days, and that it’s simply slipped through the cracks so far.

It was, in fact, a dram of Glenburgie from one of these indies that sparked my auction punt on this Carn Mor bottling. I had tried a few drams of Glenburgie from sample trades with various generous whisky folk, and they were all good if not quite mind-blowing. It was an SMWS dram, though, that sparked my interest in picking up a bottle. That dram (a couple of years ago now) – sherried barrel char and chewy savoury-ness – was really interesting, and so I kept an eye out for another sherried version. I picked up today’s bottle at auction for £30, thinking that at that price it was worth a punt.

 

Score: 5/10

Average. In a good way.

TL;DR
Bang average and not too memorable, but easy sipping – and that’s ok

 

Nose

The casks speak up immediately – sweet, lightly spicy, and red fruits. Yet while the bottle indicates PX casks, this is a surprisingly tame PX maturation (second fill?) that doesn’t hit like you might expect a PX cask to hit. It’s quite a “clean” PX cask: not quite deep, dark, and rich, but rather creamy, floral, lightly honeyed, and a bit woody.

 

Palate

Creamy, sweet, red berries (cherries, plums), and light honey. Cinnamon and a hint of chocolate dust. Perhaps a touch of maltiness behind the sherry cask somewhere. Nice moderately syrupy mouthfeel and texture, and the toned-down nature of the PX carries through to the palate. Creamy sweet PX rather than tobacco and leather PX that characterizes, say, Glenallachie 10 Cask Strength. And zero funk which characterizes, say, the Signatory Unchillfiltered Collection Edradours. Because of these differences with these other well-known sherry bombs, this one comes across as slightly more delicate, if at the same time perfectly competent.

 

The Dregs

This is perfectly good whisky which I got for a steal at auction. It’s pleasant, but far from mind-blowing. It’s something good to drink while being occupied by something else, but it’s not going to demand your attention away from the other thing. I’m glad to have it in the cabinet, but also glad I got it for only £30. 

In fairness, I think that this is far from the best that Glenburgie can do. Like I mentioned above, I bought this on the back of trying a very good one that showcased a distinctiveness that this bottling lacks. I can’t say I really know what Glenburgie tastes like – or what makes it distinct – after drinking this. But then, not every bottle is going to be a winner, or the best representation of a distillery’s profile. 

Recall that for our scoring system, 5/10 is literally “Average. In a good way” and “sits comfortably in the middle of the pack.” This fits that pretty well: I’m enjoying this at the moment, but I’m likely to have a hard time remembering it tomorrow. If you like your sherry bombs you’ll probably like this. You’ll like it even better if you find it cheap at auction. And even as I have more interesting and distinctive sherried whiskies in the bunker here at Fort Drummond, it’s a good one to add to a flight of sherry bombs as a point of comparison.

You might have a malt or two that play this role for you. Average whiskies have their place. Even if we can’t remember them tomorrow, they just get it done.

 

Score: 5/10

 

Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. DD

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Drummond Dunmore

Drummond has been stuck in Glasgow for the last ten years, it’s not known if he misses Uncle Sam as no one asks him. During his exile he’s fallen into the whisky-hole and distracts himself from buying too much by lecturing students about the end of the world; a.k.a. international politics. His current pursuits for escapism finds him either atop a munro or sipping a ‘dirty’ malt whisky. Since he’s learned to place a ‘u’ in the word ‘colour’, we’re happy to have him sharing his discoveries here.

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