Glenturret 1989 30yo Signatory Vintage
1989 - 2019 Cask 230 Hogshead | 47.1% ABV
Score: 10/10
Whisky Nirvana.
TL;DR
Pure liquid bliss
Are they ever worth it?
Whisky prices can climb into the stratosphere. Spend five minutes on any auction site and you’ll see hammer prices that make you wonder. Are they actually worth it?
In a free market, the price is whatever the seller and the buyer settle on, whether that’s for the liquid itself, the packaging, the story, the rarity, or just the bragging rights. All of those things combine to set the value, at least of that particular deal.
The real question is what happens when the whisky arrives in your glass. High prices create expectations; if something costs this much, it had better be extraordinary. Those expectations alone can elevate the experience, especially when the setting is right, the company is good, and the ritual feels special. In those moments, the whisky enjoys a lot of help from its surroundings, much like a fine-dining meal where the food is only part of the story: the ambience, the service, the anticipation, they all lift the perception. That’s not to say those experiences aren’t worth the money; it’s just important to recognise what’s doing the heavy lifting.
Most of the time, though, the whisky ends up alone in the glass, no candlelight, no dimmed room, no carefully curated playlist, no admiring glances from fellow enthusiasts. It’s just you, the dram, possibly a messy desk, and the quiet expectation that this liquid somehow owes you something extraordinary. That’s where the price can start to feel unfair to the whisky itself.
The more you’ve paid, the higher the invisible bar becomes. A £50 bottle only needs to be pleasant and drinkable to feel like good value; a £300 bottle has to be exceptional, complex, balanced and memorable; a £1,000 bottle better be life-changing, something that stops you in your tracks and makes you emotional. Expectations scale with the number of zeros on the price and the whisky, stripped of any external boost, has to work that much harder to justify them. If it’s merely very good, it can feel like a disappointment, even if the same liquid in a modest bottle with a reasonable price tag would have been celebrated.
Even if it is truly sublime, it can still leave you wondering whether the price tag was the thing that made it taste so special in the first place, whether the anticipation, the prestige, the story you’ve told yourself about the bottle has quietly done half the work. The liquid is suddenly judged not just on its own merits, but against the weight of the money you’ve spent on it, and that’s a heavy burden for any whisky to carry on its own. Just ask anyone who had forked out ridiculous money for age stated Japanese whisky at the peak of their prices.
A few months ago I was invited to lead a guided tasting at a corporate event. I hadn’t chosen the bottles and there wasn’t an obvious theme, so I just went with the flow. Among the line-up were two heavy hitters: the latest 25-year-old Port Askaig, which I’ve been told was Laphroaig, and a 30-year-old Glenturret from Nectar of the Daily Dram, distilled in 1980.
The Port Askaig was superb; textbook old Laphroaig, elegantly peated with depth and balance, but it was the Glenturret that grabbed my attention. It bore almost no resemblance to modern Glenturret bottlings, which are almost exclusively sherry matured or finished. This one came from ex-bourbon casks, and the difference was night and day. Add to that the fact that distillation regimes in the early 1980s were different, that this was genuine 30-year-old whisky and something truly rare.
The bottle had sat on the shelves at Joe’s Whisky Shop for months, priced at £300+, and gathering dust. No surprise: a 1980s Glenturret from the Famous Grouse blending stock isn’t exactly a headline act for most drinkers. Eventually it made its way to this tasting. Bottled at 46%, likely neither coloured nor chill filtered, it was one of the most majestic whiskies I’ve ever tasted, rich, layered, extraordinarily well-integrated, yet still fresh and elegant. In that moment, £300+ suddenly felt like an absolute steal. I even felt a tinge of regret that I hadn’t bought it myself when it was there for the taking.
Fast forward a few months, and Joe put the bottle for today’s review on the shop’s socials, this time I didn’t hesitate, I immediately put an order in before someone else could, this bottle had to be mine.
Then the buyer’s remorse kicked in.
Close to £300 for a bottle of whisky I haven’t tried? Sure, that other bottle of Glenturret was mind blowing; sure, the specs are very similar, 30 years in an ex-bourbon cask, colour still pale as straw; better still, that bottle was diluted to 46%, whereas this bottle is cask strength at 47.1%. Still, did I pull the trigger too hastily?
A few days later, I stopped by the shop and collected the bottle. More often than not, when I buy at Joe’s, I’d uncork the whisky immediately, to share with Joe and other customers at the shop. Not this one, this is going to be a special occasion bottle, I’m going to keep this one for a time when I can sit quietly and enjoy it alone, hopefully the whisky would be able to carry the weight of the price tag, hopefully it will be as good as the Daily Drams bottle.
The end of November leading to December had been very hectic at work and the stress was starting to get the better of me; luckily it didn’t, and one evening when I had the time to sit down and spend some time alone, I thought about this whisky, tucked in the back of the cabinet. Maybe during a time of stress, an indulgent whisky can provide some much needed reprieve, the only question is whether this whisky was going to deliver the indulgence the price suggested that it would.
It did.
Review
Glenturret 1989 30yo, bottled 2019, Signatory Vintage Cask Strength Series, Hogshead, Cask 230, 47.1% ABV
£285 paid, likely secondary only
Score: 10/10
Whisky Nirvana.
TL;DR
Pure liquid bliss
Nose
Wax. That alone grabbed me by the scruff of the neck. I’ve heard about waxy whiskies, and I’ve tried waxy whiskies, but the waxiness on the nose is off the charts. I think part of why the whisky can be waxy even on the nose is because the other aromas are subdued, which is not meant to be a criticism of this wonderful nose, but if I’ve been on the search for waxiness throughout my exploration of whisky, I think I’ve arrived. The nose is also richly honeyed, again contributing to the suggestion of waxiness: beeswax and candle wax There are also wood notes present, old furniture kind of wood. Gorgeous already.
Palate
The arrival continues to be waxy, oily, and cloying. Much more fruity on the palate, sweet and sour fruits, peaches, apples, pears, mangoes, oranges, grapefruits. A slight bitter note paired with the chewy mouthfeel reminds me of marmalade; the woodiness also manifests here, a little tannic, a little savoury; everything is so delicately balanced, so well integrated. I’m not sure how to describe the length of the finish, in terms of the flavours, the finish isn’t long, but the texture seems to linger on forever, the thickness of the marmalade remains on the palate.
The Dregs
If you’ve read our WOTY article from the end of last year, you might have read that I’d named this my Whisky of the Year, but I was the only writer to not include a score, because I knew this was going to be a 10 and I didn’t want to spoil the score yet. I did however say that this was the GOAT, the Greatest of All Time, at least for me. During my first encounter with the bottle, the quality of this whisky sent chills down my spine. I was as emotional as if I'd won the lottery.
I’m kind of lost for more words; this is hands down the best bottle of whisky I’ve owned, better than both the old Longmorn 16 and this Linkwood, by quite a mile too I’d say. It even goes toe to toe with the best whisky experience I’ve ever had, a 37 year old Brora that I sipped at a festival (£80 for 15ml if I remember correctly!).
For a 10/10 whisky, I wish I had more to say. I hope I’ve summed it up quite neatly with the tasting notes, it is in a nice Signatory Vintage decanter, but other than that there’s not too much else fancy about the packaging of this whisky, the occasion was not a special one, the whisky definitely held its own.
Well, maybe it was a special occasion, as one of the hosts quite nicely put it in one of the earlier Dramface podcasts, the special occasion was the uncorking of this special whisky.
Score: 10/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. MMc
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