When I went to the liquoría this evening I was met with a rare conundrum. I didn’t actually need anything. I’ve got plenty of bourbon around, so I had free reign. I was debating buying an Irish whiskey, a cognac, or, dare I say, a scotch. Yes, I’ve said often in the past that I don’t drink scotch but after the Glenlivet Nàdurra I reviewed not long ago I haven’t been as averse to scotch. I still think it’s overrated and overpriced but, in the end, I convinced myself to take a chance. I bought the scotch. What drew me to the Deanston was quite simple—I’d never heard of it, it was affordable, and it stated on the box that it was un-chill filtered. Chill filtering takes out a lot of the wood oils from whiskey, and I wanted those oils. Additionally it seemed bold to leave all the oils in from the fresh American oak (coopered and charred at the heart of bourbon country) they used. I’ll also admit I was a little afraid. In my experience scotch around the $20 price point is at best mediocre. This didn’t even have an age statement on it. So, for $24 I became the somewhat skeptical owner of a bottle of Deanston Virgin Oak.
This story took a strange turn about 4 hours later. My family decided we’d watch a film on the Netflix, and I became drawn to a film called The Angel’s Share. If you’re wondering why, you’ll want to look up that term. Anyways, the film is a story about a rather rough bunch from a little city in Scotland. These folks have gotten themselves in a spot of trouble with the law for a variety of reasons and are stuck doing community service. While doing community service the main character, a lad named Robbie with a history of violence begins to befriend the fellow who runs the program after having the shite beaten out of him by the family of his baby mama and over a glass of good scotch. The fellow, Harry, ends up making Robbie and several of the other buggers into big fans of their native spirit by bringing them to distilleries and tastings and Robbie begins to develop quite the palate. The story then takes a turn as Robbie, trying to escape his past, hatches a plan for a heist of a wee bit of a cask of ultra-rare scotch. I’ll leave the rest to you to find out. Anyways, this film coincided perfectly with my night. By coincided I mean there was a coincidence, and a rather large one at that. That distillery the fellow takes Robbie and the other cons to? Deanston. The scotch they’re sampling at that distillery—Deanston Virgin Oak. The stars not only aligned, they collided and exploded. Anyways, I found it to be a very enjoyable film that balances drama with humor and leaves you feeling good. The scotch, well, the scotch…
I really need glencairn glasses…
The scotch is a pleasing stroke of luck. I took the chance fearing I’d regret my decision and, well, I do not. This dram presents itself a very pale golden yellow, with legs longer than a Czech model and a nose that starts light with a bit of airy citrus and honey and then sneaks up to stab up my nostril a bit with smoky booze. The taste matches the light nose with a very delicate yet supple entry that rolls toffee, vanilla, pear and a hint of peat lusciously over the palate and leaves the tongue with a slick citrus finish and an appropriate 46.3% alcohol of mid throat heat. As you’d expect with the lack of age statement this is clearly a young whiskey, but at that it’s possibly a child prodigy. Overall this is a full bodied, dare I say, voluptuous, whiskey with a light crispness and a subtlety beyond its age—and price.
Blues in the Bottle 