Official bottling | 46% ABV
Score: 3/10
Disappointing.
TL;DR
An understandable favourite, but lacks depth & character
It’s not me, it’s you.
Ignoring whisky isn’t really bad thing.
Generally speaking, we’re a bunch of easy-going, positive people here at Dramface. Behind the scenes there’s a lot of chat happening: Questions and inquiries go back and forth and information is passed around with enough of the occasional banter to remind us that it’s ‘only’ whisky at the end of the day, as geeking out on whisky, let alone writing and offering opinions about it is quite a niche thing to do.
On a recent Aqvavitae vPub, as part of an ongoing series, Roy tackled the issue of ‘ignored’ distilleries and expressions and the reasons behind them being ignored. Sometimes, that’s entirely due to them: be it because distilleries (or rather their owners) choose to tap into the overpriced, premium whisky segment, meant for collecting and investing rather than drinking and enjoying. It may be because what’s offered is considered murdering the actual whisky – 40% ABV, chill filtration, colouring – all are not mutually exclusive, by the way. And sometimes it’s down to us, again for a multitude of possible reasons. Maybe we never got round to it; maybe we just can’t find it where we live, maybe we once had a not so pleasant experience with it and dismissed it ever since. And sometimes we may just be superficial biased idiots who look past a distillery or an expression because it doesn’t appeal to us for whatever reason.
Being an amateur blogger – the kind that rarely gets inside information from the industry or invites to new brand release announcements, exclusive distillery tours, whisky trips, free samples (as long as we play nice and don’t bite the hand that feeds, obviously) I can therefore be completely honest and objective in my subjectivity because it’s my money I’ m spending. I try to be aware of this risk of tunnel vision and step out of my comfort zone now and again to see what I’m potentially missing out on should I be just sticking to my pet distilleries.
The upside of running a blog is I buy bottles I wouldn’t normally buy. The downside of running a blog is also that I buy bottles I wouldn’t normally buy. So when Roy touched upon this very topic, I couldn’t help but browse through my own collection, as there are one or two bottles in it that are very much ignored. Not to say duds, but sometimes there’d be a whisky I ‘m keen on trying which unfortunately didn’t do much for me. Usually though it’s whisky I was likely to ignore anyway, but bought for the specific intent of reviewing it, only to find out that biases sometimes do come in handy. The end result being that once the review is published, about half a bottle’s worth of whisky has since been pushed all the way to the back of the cabinet where it will sit undisturbed for months, if not years, as I have little or no interest of coming back to it.
Everyone deserves a second chance, surely… even whisky put on the naughty bench. Because sometimes, often even, it’s not just the whisky’s fault, but our own. Not getting on with a whisky is not all down to what our tastebuds consider a jolly good time. Part of our appreciation or lack thereof is very much our own doing. When it’s just the one encounter a plethora of factors are at play: your mood, fatigue, what you ate and drank before drinking that whisky, where you were during the day, previous encounters with smells (tip: if you want to engage with a whisky, the last thing you want to do is go perfume shopping for your significant other. Or clear stables). But even if you’re looking to assess a whisky over a longer period of time – over several days and preferably even weeks – to form as unbiased an opinion as possible: where you’re at at the time of getting to know a whisky a bit better, plays a significant role.
Are you on a sherry kick? Suffering from peat fatigue? Been enjoying some older aged stuff? What’s the weather been like lately? Could you sit back and nose and sip the whisky in a relaxed, undisturbed way? A whole range of often quite subjective and seemingly meaningless factors play their part when you appreciate a whisky. And while sometimes a whisky just isn’t to your liking, even if all the circumstances seem favourable, the best thing to do is just acknowledge the thing for what it is, set it aside, and leave it be.
That’s exactly what I did with my bottle of Glenmorangie Nectar D’Or, until Roy brought up the topic of ignored whisky. It had been left untouched for a year if not longer and was probably quite surprised to see the light of day again. But for the sake of honest, unbiased reviews and second chances, over the course of a few evenings, I brought it back from its exile, poured myself a glass, and dug in.
Review
Glenmorangie Nectar D’Or, 4th edition, 2019 release, 46% ABV
£50-55 widely available (Paid €55)
I do feel as if some of Glenmorangie’s core range are sometimes unjustly ignored. The original 10 yo is a perfectly fine entry level dram, and despite the 40% ABV, colouring and chill-filtering, it serves its purpose as an entry level, background whisky. The lenience towards this otherwise frowned upon presentation is amplified by the fact they offer some more interesting expressions next to it. The Lasanta (a very accessible, easy sipping sherry cask finished whisky at a decent ABV, coming with a 12 year old statement) and the Quinta Ruban (at 14 yo and one of the rarer occasions when a port cask finish actually works pretty well in my opinion) are decent and offer good value. Let’s see if the third one of these ‘siblings’, the Nectar D’Or, can redeem itself, 15 or so months further down the road from its initial dismissal as a bland whisky.
Nose
Very sweet on sherbet and pastry notes. Buttery with white fruit and gentle clove like spice, but all buried under that barrage of sweetness, meaning that there’s little distinguishing notes to be found. Overall the nose comes across generic and lacks depth. This doesn’t bode well, does it?
Palate
Some improvement as cereal notes and gentle spices are more noticeable now, sitting on a soft, dry mouth feel, adding to the experience. That said; most of it remains an amalgamation of sweet notes thrown on top of each other with little else going on, leading to a fairly short finish which brings more generic sweetness.
The Dregs
I know this whisky has its fans, and I can see why. This is about as inoffensive as whisky gets. It excels at bringing sweetness on top of sweetness and if that’s your thing: indulge, by all means. If you want to win people over into appreciating whisky and they’re afraid of anything harsh, this might well do the trick. But the 10 year old would very likely manage that as well, and that’s about £15 cheaper.
To me, it lacks depth and character and in a one word review, I would probably describe this as ‘meh’. Even under the best possible circumstances – undisturbed, well rested, relaxed, and with a clean palate, my initial feelings towards this expression has changed very little since I opened it. It’s flawless, but about as exciting as being read out a phone book by Ben Stein: utterly, utterly bland and dull.
Score: 3/10