Today's bottle was one of those where I said to myself "Benrinnes ... surely I've had a boatload of Benrinnes!" ... and then looked at my archive and discovered no, I've only had three or four bottles of the stuff, and maybe a tot here or there at a tasting. So, in truth, I know very little about Benrinnes - owned by Diageo, founded in 1826 (one of the oldest), formerly known for triple distilling but giving that up in 2007, and a user of the vaunted worm tubs to condense during distillation.
There are still about 20 distilleries using worm tubs, which, as most scotch drinkers learn eventually, tend to impart a heaviness or meatiness to the spirit, along with a richer texture.
Since it's a Diageo distillery that's not Lagavulin, Talisker, or Oban, it's best presented in the the bottles of the independents, and Blackadder might just be my favorite all-around independent bottler on the market these days. I particularly like the Raw Cask line, which are wonderfully rich and textural and full of flavor. Some great cask selection over at Blackadder.
This 14 year Benrinnes appears to have spent its entire life in a first fill Amontillado hogshead, which is pretty unusual - I can count on one hand the number of bottles I've seen drawn from an Amontillado cask of some type.
Amontillado is a dry variety of sherry made from palomino grapes, with a lot of nuttiness, maybe a hair sweeter than Fino (although often not). True Amontillado is bone dry, although many bottles that show up in shops have been slightly sweetened for greater consumer appeal.
It's VERY hard to find scotch aged in dry sherry like Fino or Amontillado, although I'm not sure why. My best guess is that the sweeter varieties play nicer with whisky?
So let's see how this does with the Benrinnes worm tub-condensed spirit, bottled at 55.7% ABV:
Nose: The neck pour has a surprising amount of oranges, brown sugar so vivid it's like opening the bag before baking, salt and yeast, and a sweet malt sugar backbone. Simple but rich.
With some time in the glass, a musty element emerges, which weirdly reminds me of old machine grease. It actually gets along quite well with the sherry elements, which are equally funky.
With water the nose deepens and becomes more subtle: cloves, molasses, and polished wood take over; the oranges and salinity recede noticeably.
Mouthfeel: Oily but on the thinner side. Water improves the texture greatly, making it quite thick and chewy.
Palate: Interesting - it's a sherry bomb but with a dark, industrial element mixed in. I get brown sugar, milk chocolate, coffee, bright citrus notes (orange, blood orange, maybe grapefruit), leather, lots of almond extract, and caramel. But there is a dry element too - yeast and nut husks and wood tannins and spices. And somewhere in the back, that odd metallic note that is so hard to place.
With water: it's much the same, really, although the thicker texture does a lot of heavy lifting. Still a sweetish sherry bomb with some dark, dry tinges in the corners.
I get predominantly baker's chocolate, molasses, espresso beans... towards the back of the development: bright streaks of citrus, more nuts and wood, and some metallic elements that come and go.
Finish: Leather, old coins, brown sugar, oranges, and almonds.
Verdict: I didn't love this bottle until approximately 1/3 was gone; it went from a narrow profile that was heavy on the brown sugar and citrus to a broader, more complex one that allowed me to pick out my favorite flavors from the crowd and savor them.
The underlying metallic element originally bothered me and sort of upset the balance; but after some oxidation (I guess?) it becomes one of the supporting cast, so to speak, and plays well in that curious "old coin" sort of way.
Of the two newest Blackadder bottles, I prefer the Blair Athol to this - but this is surprisingly complex if you pamper it and give it time and water and allow it the opportunity to put its best foot forward. Specifically, adding water REALLY beefs this up and improves the texture greatly.
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