In the bottle, this stuff looks like oxblood shoe polish dissolved in the tiniest splash of naphtha, but in the glass it looks a lot more like liquid heaven. The nose offers notes of candy, but the most singular candy ever: chocolate sherry paint drying on the walls of your harem room, redwood sap turned into a candy cane, and saffron threads encrusted in organic brown sugar.
On the mouth, though, you realize that this dram is truly special: this could just as well be the marrow from the bones of Zeus mixed with liquified diamonds, with a dash of puréed rosemary pecans thrown in just to push the taste envelope a little further yet. It’s like drinking a sour dough starter, but in the best possible way: this dram is a quintessence of a quintessence.
The mouthfeel is as extraordinary and complex as the taste: it wraps your tongue in the silk scarf Grace Kelly wore in To Catch a Thief, and then continues with alternating layers of Christmas wrapping paper and mica. This is ossobuco from a magical bull raised in a magical field and prepared in a magical pan by none other than Ferran Adrià. You’ll want to take a couple of gold bars out of your safe to make room for this bottle. What to do with the gold bars, you ask? If you have a bottle of this, you won’t care.
The Glenrothes Editor’s Cask is Dr. Pepper—It’s not appropriate for all occasions, and its chemical makeup must be mind-boggling. But when the time is right—and maybe this is just my bias as a southern boy—there is absolutely nothing better.