Malt CO2
Musk
Patchouli
Whisky
Cedarwood
Coffee absolute
Peat
Woods
10/17/2012
Apicius
224 Reviews
Apicius
Very helpful Review
9
Once Upon A Time In GlenFiddich: Why Pure Malt Disappeared
What a day! Imagine the wild west coast of Scotland, on a stormy autumn night. Spindrift hits the cliffs and splatters the dark rocks with salty foam, wind tears apart patches of fog, and clouds burst as the downpour begins. Like a hart on heat, the engine of my old Landrover roars as I follow the narrow single track road, winding through heath and bog, up the coastal mountains.
Approaching the top of the pass, the silhouette of the old gallows emerges in front of this sky in uproar, an unmistakable warning to any adulterator of perfume, as in ancient times, many of those unfortunates were dragged to this desolate place in order to pay for their sins! Suddenly, the old engine loses its confident sound, it bucks and stutters, and with a final death rattle, the car comes to a halt. Now, the aggressive bang of heavy rain is the only noise, painfully amplified by the metal car body.
There, a sudden stroke of lightning, almost simultaneously followed by a mighty peal of thunder! For an instant, the scenery lights up brightly, and at the kerbside, I recognize the reflection of a meagre, rawboned figure. I see its long, drenched overcoat, a flimsy hat covering a haggard head that very oddly tilts to one side.
“Sir, can you give me lift? I’ve been staying here for such a long time!”
“What are you doing in this beastly weather up here?”
“Uhm…I had a little dispute with my customers.”
“Oh, and they left you behind?”
“Yes, so to speak.”
“That wasn’t too nice of them. What upset your valued customers so much?”
“Oh, that’s a long story. You know, the taxes… and one does have costs. You have to mind your business, don’t you? Especially, if you are an outstanding innovative entrepreneur.”
“So, you were very innovative?”
“But I just wanted to sell whiskey!”
“In Scotland? With all that competition?”
“Ah, no way! Not drinkable whiskey – whiskey to spray, a perfume!”
“Great idea! This must come like a bombshell!”
“There were problems”
“Which?”
“There was no whiskey in it at all!”
“Really? What else?”
“Belgium beer!”
“I see, and if it comes to whiskey, the Scots can’t take a joke.”
“But – Belgium beer is also nice!”
“Then, why didn’t you call it like that?”
“Are you serious? A*Men Le Trappiste? How ridiculous!”
“Now you’ve made me curious.”
“Wait! One canister is still left!”
Like out of nowhere my new friend produces a big jerry can and starts meddling with the fastener. His head flutteringly bounces from one side to the other.
“Wonderful – a masterpiece! A true work of art! Just smell this – these discreet hints of roasted barley! And then the subtle patchouli note that adds this very specific earthiness to the composition! And then this homely, slightly alcoholic sweetness! Perfect refinement and opulence! …Can we please pull out now?”
“I am afraid, no!”
“Why?”
“I ran out of fuel!”
“What? Then I have to stay forever in this nasty place? Please, you can’t do this to me!” – And without any restraint, he sobs and whines, loudly pitying his evil fate.
“Oh, please don’t”, I try to console him. “Especially you as an outstanding innovative entrepreneur should always mind your chances and make the best out of any situation.”
“But this single canister full of perfume is all I have!”
“A Landrover has a robust engine.”
“And you mean…”
“The canister, please!”
And so, the last remains of A*Men Pure Malt vanished it the fuel tank of a decrepit Landrover that cruised the Scottish Highlands with a now even louder roar, leaving behind mighty fumes of Belgium beer.
Approaching the top of the pass, the silhouette of the old gallows emerges in front of this sky in uproar, an unmistakable warning to any adulterator of perfume, as in ancient times, many of those unfortunates were dragged to this desolate place in order to pay for their sins! Suddenly, the old engine loses its confident sound, it bucks and stutters, and with a final death rattle, the car comes to a halt. Now, the aggressive bang of heavy rain is the only noise, painfully amplified by the metal car body.
There, a sudden stroke of lightning, almost simultaneously followed by a mighty peal of thunder! For an instant, the scenery lights up brightly, and at the kerbside, I recognize the reflection of a meagre, rawboned figure. I see its long, drenched overcoat, a flimsy hat covering a haggard head that very oddly tilts to one side.
“Sir, can you give me lift? I’ve been staying here for such a long time!”
“What are you doing in this beastly weather up here?”
“Uhm…I had a little dispute with my customers.”
“Oh, and they left you behind?”
“Yes, so to speak.”
“That wasn’t too nice of them. What upset your valued customers so much?”
“Oh, that’s a long story. You know, the taxes… and one does have costs. You have to mind your business, don’t you? Especially, if you are an outstanding innovative entrepreneur.”
“So, you were very innovative?”
“But I just wanted to sell whiskey!”
“In Scotland? With all that competition?”
“Ah, no way! Not drinkable whiskey – whiskey to spray, a perfume!”
“Great idea! This must come like a bombshell!”
“There were problems”
“Which?”
“There was no whiskey in it at all!”
“Really? What else?”
“Belgium beer!”
“I see, and if it comes to whiskey, the Scots can’t take a joke.”
“But – Belgium beer is also nice!”
“Then, why didn’t you call it like that?”
“Are you serious? A*Men Le Trappiste? How ridiculous!”
“Now you’ve made me curious.”
“Wait! One canister is still left!”
Like out of nowhere my new friend produces a big jerry can and starts meddling with the fastener. His head flutteringly bounces from one side to the other.
“Wonderful – a masterpiece! A true work of art! Just smell this – these discreet hints of roasted barley! And then the subtle patchouli note that adds this very specific earthiness to the composition! And then this homely, slightly alcoholic sweetness! Perfect refinement and opulence! …Can we please pull out now?”
“I am afraid, no!”
“Why?”
“I ran out of fuel!”
“What? Then I have to stay forever in this nasty place? Please, you can’t do this to me!” – And without any restraint, he sobs and whines, loudly pitying his evil fate.
“Oh, please don’t”, I try to console him. “Especially you as an outstanding innovative entrepreneur should always mind your chances and make the best out of any situation.”
“But this single canister full of perfume is all I have!”
“A Landrover has a robust engine.”
“And you mean…”
“The canister, please!”
And so, the last remains of A*Men Pure Malt vanished it the fuel tank of a decrepit Landrover that cruised the Scottish Highlands with a now even louder roar, leaving behind mighty fumes of Belgium beer.
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