Glenlossie 13yo Infrequent Flyers
Recharred Hogshead Single Cask | 58.1% ABV
Score: 8/10
Something special.
TL;DR
My best of 2026 so far
Strategized Comeuppance
Since moving to this corner of North Carolina, my wife and I have been warmly welcomed. We have been the recipients of overflowing caring and friendship among a group of seven other couples that are affectionately called “The Bunco Group”.
Bunco, for those who are unaware (as I was prior to my move here), is a dice game often played by eight couples. It is a simple game, but it becomes one that is raucous and filled with unending laughter among my bunco friends. The bunco gatherings occur, roughly, each month. We make it an event with food and drink accompanying the game, and we rotate among houses to host.
This past week, the bunco event was hosted at the Shaw household. And, of course, some whisky shenanigans occurred. Of course it did…
Our bunco group this past meet-up was one couple short, as Sue and John were away on holiday. A substitute couple was asked to take their place – the brother and sister-in-law of Lindsay, one of our core ladies. At the beginning of the evening, Mrs. Shaw and I welcomed everyone to our home, and, per usual, I threw open the whisky cabinet as well as the bourbon cupboard for anyone who wanted a dram or two.
We were all catching up and started the evening, as usual, with great fun and harmony. The core seven couples were here and enjoying drinks and sampling the various plates and trays of food. The substitute couple was late, which didn’t bother anyone as we’re all laid back and easy-going. However, Jerry, Lindsay’s husband, was a bit concerned. I walked up to Jerry and asked if everything was all right. He mentioned that things should be fine, but it was clear that there was something else afoot.
I pressed a bit, wondering what the undertone in his behavior and voice was, and where it was coming from. Jerry finally exhaled a bit, and pulled me aside. He confided in me that his brother-in-law was a bit of a know-it-all, rather loud, and he hoped it wouldn’t reflect poorly on him and his wife for inviting them.
No sooner than that last syllable left Jerry’s mouth, our front door opened – no knock or ring of the doorbell – and Clint and Eve, the heretofore missing couple walked in. To be more clear, it wasn’t simply just walking in. No. Their entrance was marked by a bit of attitude and drama – all coming from the husband while the wife appeared self-conscious and embarrassed.
“Why the heck didn’t anyone give us better directions to this house”? If it was Clint trying his hand at humor it fell flat, and everyone for a moment or two stopped their laughter and joviality and stared at the entering couple. “It’s a good thing I’m here to liven things up!” the husband said with his arms raised.
Lindsay interdicted. She turned and introduced her sister, Eve, and Eve’s husband, Clint, to the rest of us.
We all welcomed Clint and Eve. While Eve was gracious and charming, her husband was as loud and gruff as advertised. While we returned to food, drink, and conversation, Clint’s voice was regularly raised and he was overheard telling this person that he didn’t buy the right car, or lecturing another person about politics. And then, he crossed the whisky line.
He looked at the open Shaw whisky cabinet and open bourbon cupboard and very loudly spoke to no one in particular, asking why anyone would have anything but bourbon. I am pretty sure he made some veiled reference to “Scotch whisky being piss”.
I could feel several of my buddies turn toward me, and I was already walking toward the obnoxious intruder in my home. I walked up to him as he was pouring himself a very sizeable tumbler from my Jack Daniels Single Barrel, Barrel Proof bottle.
“Clint… It is Clint, right? I’m so sorry to hear that your taste buds haven’t evolved enough to appreciate single malt.”
It felt good to say that.
“You’re a God-damned loon, my friend!” Clint said with a large dose of bravado. “Bourbon is king. And even my wife knows what’s the best whiskey!”
I put my arm around him and pointed to his glass, “well, for starters, you’re not drinking bourbon. That’s Tennessee whiskey.” Clint stammered. Ogilvie smiled.
There was more than a smattering of chuckling going on around us. Before Clint could flash back with a barb, I continued to smile, told him to enjoy the spread of food we had on the table, and walked away. As has been told to me many times over, there is no sense in mud wrestling with a pig… as you wind up dirty and the pig actually likes it.
Clint, nonetheless, kept complaining, exaggerating, and generally being loud and obnoxious through the evening. I happened to notice my wife staring at him at one point with what appeared to be clear disdain in her eyes. We all did our best to ignore or talk around him, though our buddies Jerry and Lindsay were mortified and apologizing quietly and repetitively to everyone.
Little did I know, however, that my better half (a much better half, if I am honest) had some comeuppance brewing for Clint.
Mrs. Shaw, who knows her way around single malt and the bottles we had, befriended Eve. During their conversations (so I discovered later) Eve talked about how she liked whiskey but didn’t know anything about single malts. That opened the door for my wife.
Mrs. Shaw gently asked about what flavor profiles she enjoyed, what kind of foods she preferred, etc. After a few hours we had gone through our game of bunco and even with Clint in the house – more like, despite Clint being in the house – we all had a good time.
At the end of the night, as we were wrapping up, Clint went back to the cupboard and refilled his tumbler. While he did so, he couldn’t help but, again, declare that anyone who didn’t think bourbon was best clearly was a mistaken fool.
To everyone’s delight – and I do mean everyone but Clint – and out of nowhere, Eve piped up from the corner of the living room where she was cradling a Glencairn. She told Clint that he needed to try what she had in her glass as it was better than any bourbon she had ever had. There was complete silence for a split second and then a good cheer and peal of laughter. Clint was ashen and flummoxed that his own wife would speak poorly of bourbon and that she had something better.
“This is delicious! We need to get some of this Clint!” Eve squealed as she raised the Glencairn over her head and then guided it back down to her lips for another sip. “This Glen-whatever-it-is is simply delicious!”
At this time, Mrs. Shaw had come over to me, wrapped her arm around my waist, and grinned. “Mission complete” was all she said.
Everyone went back to laughing and chatting. Clint remained flummoxed and, gladly, silent. I looked at my wife and smiled, and asked about “the mission”, as she called it.
All Mrs. Shaw would say, was “it feels very good that tonight I was able to convert that bourbon-loving jackasses wife to single malt”. I just grinned.
To quote my friend, Murdo: “it was glorious.”
Review
Glenlossie 13yo, Alistair Walker Infrequent Flyers Release 82, Re-charred hogshead single cask, #799, 283 bottles, 2009 - 2022, 58.1% ABV
£50 paid at auction
Score: 8/10
Something special.
TL;DR
My best of 2026 so far
Nose
Malty pancake batter. Medjool dates and ripe cherries. Light touch of oak. Almond butter. Oiled leather work gloves. Blood orange juice.
Palate
Red delicious apples. Cherries and stewed plums. Toffee and nougat. This whisky has depth and a lovely, rich and oily mouthfeel. Alongside the fruit and toffee, there is a tingle and spiciness – white pepper and baking spices. The longer I sit with this dram, the malty and yeasty memory of buttered honey yeast bread comes into my thoughts. (And, as a confirmation of the yeasty side of this whisky, do yourself a favor and put a few drops on your hands and rub them together). Dark and fruity. There is a layer here, mid palate, that brings crème brûlée notes to mind. Sugary sweetness – the nougat – and the tingling spiciness of the white pepper and ginger linger into a lovely finish.
The Dregs
This was my first Infrequent Flyers bottle, and it was also my first bottle of Glenlossie whisky. Both have impressed me tremendously.
As with most IBs in my whisky cabinet, this came to me via the auction route. And, as is my habit with whisky auctions, I try to find a label or a distillery of which I am not familiar. This one, as said, ticked both boxes.
For those not familiar – and I didn’t know this until I purchased my bottle and then reviewed the Malt Whisky Yearbook – Glenlossie and Mannochmore are considered sister distilleries. This, despite the fact that Glenlossie is almost a century older than Mannochmore. They are sister distilleries as they are immediate neighbours and for many years, until 2007, they had a shared workforce. Another interesting piece of information from the Malt Whisky Yearbook:
Both distilleries have continuously been producing malts for blends and, in the case of Glenlossie, it is not least Haig Gold Label. The difference between the newmake from the two sisters is striking: both distilleries run the same foreshots (20 minutes) and have roughly the same cut points for the spirit run but while Glenlossie is green and oily due to a 20-hour shorter fermentation time and larger stills, Mannochmore turns out sweet and fruity.
What Infrequent Flyers did with a recharged hogshead and their Glenlossie distillate is a bit magical, in my opinion. I understand Glenlossie spirit is, generally light and cereal forward. This particular bottling is oily, yeasty, fruity, and full of body. I didn’t know exactly what I would be experiencing when I uncorked this bottle, but it was not this luscious, decadent, and dark fruit experience. I have been rather fortunate of late as my auction purchases have been good or quite good. This, however, has been the best bottle of 2026 that I have purchased to date. Hands down.
It made a believer out of me.
And also of Eve.
And it gave a well-deserved comeuppance to our loud-mouthed bourbon-loving dolt.
Score: 8/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. OS
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