More sherry here than I expected. I mostly just enjoyed the heck out of this while cynically complaining it wasn’t as good as I wanted it to be. But when the bottle was gone, I was sad. Please send more.
The nose starts with a blast of peat followed by oak and a touch of sweet sherry which grows as you smell it. The palate also starts with peat, then reveals dry sherry which is remains present but never in an overwhelming way. There are dried pineapple notes and plenty of peat. The finish is an old fireplace, or maybe even the smell of just lit firecrackers after they explode (aka my neighborhood on the Fourth of July), along with an old, dry red wine. Everything about this is rich, thick and wonderful.
The big burly inky oily aroma of the Port Ellen 32 Years rolls out like molasses on amphetamines. Thick layers of peat, salted pork, iodine, smoked meat, licorice and charred fruit get sprinkled with light notes of wood, dark fruit and band-aids.
The liquid is so viscous it’s an oil spill in my mouth, though with significantly fewer dead penguins. Oil slicks of peat, dark fruit, salted caramel, smoked meat, iodine, toffee, and saline sit in a gasoline shimmer atop light notes of fruit leather, minerals, earthy wood and band-aids.
Long and peaty with oily layers of rubber, fruit, hay, wood and something I can only describe as “fossil fuel”.
- This is an Islay lovers dream. It’s a monster ballerina that dances across the senses like a steamroller fueled by peat, oil and pure uncut grace. A tidy glass of insanity that I considered giving an A+ to and if I was able to revisit it at a later date I might, but we slew that beast the same night we came face-to-face with it -