Glenlivet 2007 10yo

Signatory Un-chillfiltered Collection 2018 bottling | 46% ABV

Score: 7/10

Very Good Indeed.

TL;DR
An atypically rich, dense, pudding of a whisky

 

The Occasional Whisky Snob

One of the criticisms that you’ll occasionally hear levelled at a single malt, particularly from more seasoned whisky drinkers, is that an expression is well put together, but a little ‘over-engineered’.

The term ‘over-engineered’ is, of course, fairly nebulous when it comes to a product like single malt scotch whisky but, in my experience, it tends to refer to whiskies that are so well balanced and so carefully put together, as to have had virtually all of their idiosyncrasies ironed out.

The result is something that’s often very well executed, but ultimately lacking in character – a whisky so balanced, and so well put together, as to come across as slightly bland. To use a word that most of us hate, these expressions are often what might be called ‘smooth.’

I’m talking of course, for the most part, about whisky from the larger producers; whisky that you’ll often find on the supermarket shelves and which is aimed at such a broad swathe of people that it dare not run the risk of offending anyone. 

I don't doubt that an incredible amount of skill goes into the execution of these malts – it is, after all, quite a feat to take a product that’s as inherently fickle as single malt whisky, and smooth off all the rough edges – but to people like myself, who are very much focused on flavour and who like to be surprised by a whisky, these sorts of expressions often leave us a little cold.

I’m talking about whisky from distilleries such as Glenfiddich, Glenlivet, Glenmorangie, Aberfeldy and Dalwhinnie, although that’s by no means an exhaustive list. Often, these expressions are perfectly drinkable, but they’re also, quite often, fairly forgettable. 

Whilst this definitely has a lot to do with the fact that they’re usually bottled at a lower ABV and heavily chill-filtered, chances are that even if they were bottled at 46%, and even if they weren’t chill-filtered, they could still lack character when compared to something like, say, a Springbank or an Edradour. 

Because the simple fact is that the bigger the market you sell into, the more people you have to please. The end result is that you usually end up with a product that doesn’t offend anybody, but doesn’t set anybody’s world alight, either. This is true of virtually everything, from cars, to music, to chocolate, to beer. People like things that are consistent, predictable and inoffensive. As a general rule, the more focused and idiosyncratic you make a product, the more niche it becomes.

It is, of course, a lot easier for the big distilleries to engineer their whiskies in this way. We often talk about how distilleries such as Springbank, Glengyle and Edradour actively embrace batch variation and this may be true, but in truth, they probably don’t have too much of a choice. 

Take Edradour, for instance. Its maximum capacity is 260,000 litres. Okay, so that might sound like a lot of whisky, but compare that to Glenfiddich, with its 21,000,000 litre capacity. If you’re Glenfiddich, you can produce enough whisky to iron out any flaws or imbalances in the vatting. You have millions of litres to play with, as opposed to hundreds of thousands of litres. In that situation, it’s a lot easier to produce a well-balanced, carefully engineered and relatively consistent product. Chill-filtration and dilution also no doubt help round off any jagged edges, but even if Glenfiddich presented their standard 12yo at 46%, it would probably still come across as a fairly middle-of-the-road whisky.

This of course, is not a criticism of Glenfiddich, or indeed of those who enjoy their product. I happen to have a bottle of their 14yo expression on the go right now, and I’m enjoying it. It’s impossible to really criticise a whisky that’s so well put together and easy to drink, especially when it has a 14yo age statement and retails for £45. There’s a place, I think, in everybody’s cabinet, for easy drinking, straight-to-the-point, readily available expressions. 

Still, there’s no doubt that when I look at my collection, those middle-of-the-road, supermarket whiskies are in the minority. Like many of you reading this review, I have a particular penchant for single cask expressions, often presented at cask strength, typically from the indy bottlers. These whiskies tend to be laser focused, idiosyncratic, unpredictable and inconsistent – and that’s precisely what I like about them. As I said before, I’m into whisky for the flavour. I like to be surprised by it, which is why, even when I really enjoy an expression, I rarely find myself immediately revisiting it, choosing instead to focus on chasing down new flavours. 

For me, whisky is all about finding out what’s around the next corner. If what’s around the next corner is something I really wasn’t expecting, then all the better.

The whisky that I’m reviewing here is a whisky with a flavour profile that I really wasn’t expecting. It’s from an indy bottler, and it’s also from a distillery that tends to make what I would consider to be fairly well-engineered, consistent, and predictable single malt. That distillery is Glenlivet, but the expression that I’m reviewing here is from Signatory. 

I haven’t had a ton of expressions from Glenlivet, but those that I have tried have always struck me as fairly light, floral and easy going. Glenlivet is one of those whiskies that I tend to think epitomises what most people think of when they think of whisky. It’s honey, vanilla and fruit. Or at least, most of the expressions I’ve tried have been. I’m sure there are exceptions to the rule, but you take my point.

This Glenlivet then, came as a total surprise to me. I first bought a bottle of it back in 2018 and was so enamoured with it that I made a mental note to keep my eye on the auction sites for a second bottle. It’s a single cask expression, so it disappeared fairly quickly, but recently, I came across another bottle and snagged it for a hair under £50 – which from memory, is about what I paid for the first bottle I tried. It’s fantastic whisky – a big, cask-driven, bruiser of a single malt – something completely different from the distillery’s house style. 

As such, it’s a bottle that I’m enjoying a lot, although unfortunately, it’s unlikely that it’ll be easy to come by.

 

 

Review

Glenlivet 2007 10yo, signatory Un-chillfiltered Collection, distilled 10.4.2007, bottled 27.2.2018, 1st fill sherry butt, cask number 900256, 46% ABV
£50 paid, secondary only

For those of you who are interested in tracking a bottle down, the cask number of this one is 900256. This expression was distilled on the 10th of April 2007 and was bottled on the 27th February 2018. It was matured in a first-fill sherry butt. Being part of Signatory’s Un-Chill Filtered Collection, it’s bottled at 46% and - naturally - hasn’t been chill-filtered.

When I bought my first bottle of this, back in 2018, it took me a couple of months to get around to opening it. The second that I did open it, I knew that I wanted another bottle, so I jumped on the internet to try and find one. Unfortunately, at the time, it had sold out.

What I did find was a bottle of what I assume came from the cask that had been sitting fairly close to it in the warehouse. Like I said, the bottle that I’m reviewing today is from cask 900256 and was distilled on the 10th of April 2007, and when I went looking to replace it back in 2018, I came across a 2007 Glenlivet, again from Signatory’s Un-chill Filtered Collection, that had been distilled on the same day, same year and which was from cask 900241. This one had also been matured in a first fill sherry butt, although it had been in the cask for an extra year. With the cask numbers so closely aligned, the distillation date being identical and the cask type being the same, I assumed that these two whiskies would be broadly similar. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Cask 900241 was a decent whisky, but it was basically just Glenlivet at 46%. It was light(ish), fruity and floral – all fairly typical of what you’d expect from the distillery. Despite having been matured in first fill sherry, it really wasn’t much of a sherry bomb, and I came away pleased to have found a bottle, but still longing for a bottle of 900256.

The reason that I mention this here is because I think it speaks to something about whisky more generally – that whisky is a very fickle creature. If two casks, containing liquid that was distilled on the same day and which are both of the same type, can produce such different styles of whisky, then it goes to show just how much serendipity comes into play during the whisky making and maturation process. It also highlights just how much skill must go into achieving the levels of consistency that some of the larger distilleries strive for.

More than anything, the experience highlighted to me just how important the indy bottlers are. Being able to geek out over two expressions from the same distillery, which had been distilled on the same day and yet were so different, was something I took great fascination in. In fact, I probably enjoyed the second bottle of Glenlivet all the more because it was so different, even though it was nowhere near as engaging in and of itself.

Back to the whisky in question, I’ll make no bones about this: it’s a sherry bomb.

 

Score: 7/10

Very Good Indeed.

TL;DR
An atypically rich, dense, pudding of a whisky

 

Nose

It has one of the most enticing noses that I think I’ve ever come across, and the second that you pour a glass, its character becomes apparent. Think golden syrup, honeycomb, vanilla custard, sticky toffee pudding and a hint of crushed biscuits. There’s also a slightly sulphurous note that plays in the background. Light, fruity and typically Speyside, this is not. You know that you’re about to taste something that’s heavily cask driven before you even put your lips to the glass.

 

Palate

The nose speaks of the palate, only the palate amps everything up. There’s more golden syrup, some sponge pudding, custard, fudge (boatloads of fudge), Highland toffee, strawberry laces and Blackjacks. It really is a pudding of a whisky, and the puddings that I’m talking about are those stodgy puddings that your nan used to make. Because this is dense, sweet, heavily sherried stuff. It’s delicious, and the second you sip it, you want more.

I think what I like most about this one, though – and certainly the most interesting aspect of it, considering the distillery that it comes from – is that it’s also quite dirty. It’s viscous, for a start, and there’s this slightly astringent, bitter note that cuts through everything. More than anything, though, it’s the sulphur that dirties things up. If you’re not a fan of sulphur then this one probably isn’t for you, but I personally like it. The sulphur here isn’t hugely overpowering, but it’s definitely present. The result is a whisky that has bags of character.

If I had to guess, I’d say that we’re talking PX sherry. There’s little in the way of figs, nuts or Christmas cake here, so I assume that this isn’t from an Oloroso sherry butt. I could be wrong, though. Like I said, the other Glenlivet I bought, despite having been distilled on the same day and matured in the same type of cask, tasted distinctly bourbon-esque, so casks can definitely behave in a way that’s atypical.

 

The Dregs

There’s a tendency sometimes, particularly among seasoned whisky drinkers, to disparage cask-forward whiskies. We like balance in our whisky, we shun heavy-handed finishes and we tend to refer to cask driven expressions as being a bit two dimensional. This can sometimes come across as snobbery, but generally I don’t think that’s the case. It’s more that, the more time we spend tasting whisky, the more we learn to appreciate quieter, subtler whiskies where the distillate is allowed to shine. That’s my experience anyway. It applies to me and to a lot of the more seasoned whisky drinkers I’ve spoken to.

This Glenlivet is not subtle and there is no – and I mean no – distillate character on display. The cask has completely obliterated any of the Glenlivet signature, and what you’re left with is a cask-driven whisky that has very little complexity and is, arguably, a little two dimensional.

Perhaps this should be a problem, but to my mind, in the case of this expression, it isn’t. Not only is this whisky delicious, but that dirty, slightly sulphurous quality makes it incredibly engaging. It’s also got bags of mouthfeel, compared to the thin, fairly neutered experience of an OB Glenlivet 12. Was I to taste this blind, I’d probably say that it was a Mortlach, as it reminds me of a couple of the independent Mortlachs that I’ve had in the past.

Either way, for £50, I feel like it was well worth the money and I’ll be keeping my eyes on the auction sites in future, on the off-chance that I might be able to snag a third bottle. 

This is a solid expression: a sweet, viscous, pudding of a whisky that, to return to a phrase that I used at the beginning of this review, is the anthesis of the ‘over-engineered’ official concepts that we’re used to from the big distilleries. 

As such, it serves as a stark departure from what you’d expect. It’s Glenlivet, but not as we know it.

 

Score: 7/10

 

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

  • Dramface is free.

    Its fierce independence and community-focused content is funded by that same community. We don’t do ads, sponsorships or paid-for content. If you like what we do you can support us by becoming a Dramface member for the price of a magazine.

    However, if you’ve found a particular article valuable, you also have the option to make a direct donation to the writer, here: buy me a dram - you’d make their day. Thank you.

    For more on Dramface and our funding read our about page here.

 

Other opinions on this:

Whiskybase

Got a link to a reliable review? Tell us.

Fergus Mackay

Resident musician Fergus is something of a polymath. A retired rock and roll musician who still dabbles in jazz, albeit with a glass of whisky alongside. He also plays squareneck dobro - don’t worry; no one around here knows what that is either. Almost two decades ago, the Glenfiddich visitor centre lit a fire in Mr Mackay’s whisky belly that’s been burning ever since. A self-declared quiet man, he can often be found writing fiction and assures us he’s published. Not being whisky-related we feign interest and gently nudge encouragement towards those language skills being tasked with something that Dramface can care about; like his love of spirit-forward fruit-bombs. Right Fergie, let’s go.

Next
Next

Murray McDavid Strathdearn