June 27, 2024

A few Brora to celebrate the
Distillery's first whisky in 38 years

In any case, for a vaguely experienced and perhaps slightly fetishistic whisky enthusiast, nothing could surpass moments like those I experienced last week, somewhere between Inverness and Wick on the north-east coast of Scotland. For the first time, I had the chance to discover the Brora distillery in operation and indeed taste its very first new whisky, as the first batch has just reached the minimum age of 3 years to be considered whisky, as you surely know. Indeed, I was tempted to privately call it 'New Brora' but no, after tasting, it's clearly 'Brora', I insist.

I had certainly visited the distillery several times in the past – unfortunately, I had never ventured beyond Inverness on my early trips to Scotland, when the distillery was still active – but each time, the only things moving actively were a few pigeons that would wander into the still house. Not to mention the movements of casks in the warehouses and a few very rare private tastings held in the filling station, the latter frozen in time since Brora closed on 17 March 1983.

Kept intact in Brora's filling store in 2006, the last cask
ever filled. You will have noted that it was stencilled "Clynelish". However, I am unable to confirm that it was indeed a Brora;
perhaps it was some new make of Clynelish that had
been filled into it. Or maybe it wasn't the actual last cask
to be filled. Mystery is also part of Scotch whisky, let’s hope
that never changes!

Many thanks again to the team from Clynelish (and Diageo) for taking care of it with grace and diligence back then; the last time was in 2013. The first time, I believe, was in 2006. And now, 2024!

In fact, what is truly fascinating after the announcement of Brora’s relaunch (and that of Port Ellen) in 2017, and Brora’s first runs in May 2021, is discovering how little has changed on site. Or rather, it has, but it’s hardly noticeable. It’s a bit like if the Bugatti factory in Molsheim were still making the 1927 Type 35, the epitome of a sports car, using tools from the era, barely re-sharpened. The opposite of the new Port Ellen, which rather produces Chirons or Tourbillons even if they have replicated the old stills, see what I mean.

I even amused myself by simultaneously bringing a glass of ‘new’ 3-year-old and a glass of 39-year-old to my nose and realised they were remarkably similar, despite the huge age difference; but it’s well known that Brora has always taken its time, and that very few hyperactive casks were used, similar to Port Ellen. I believe this is the main reason for the incredible longevity of these two malts, which at 50 years old, can seem like 25 (which is good news, let’s be clear!). An actress’s dream.

The chimney at Brora is still there, technically useless apart from perhaps to birds, but a testament to the glorious past of "Old Clynelish." It has been reinforced and protected by a special coating, making it shine just a bit more than before. It’s lovely! Numerous walls have been rebuilt, stones reshaped, an old Porteus mill reinstalled, the two splendid open-air worm tubs are in place, the mash tun and the washbacks are identical to the old ones (with a bit more safety, it seems), and the two original stills have been carefully restored by Abercrombie (nothing to do with Abercrombie & Fitch, you philistine!), with their very thick bases still from the days when the stills were direct-fired, before being converted to indirect heating in... 1961.

I love that they preserved the greyish and sometimes blackened walls, rather than going ‘all white’ like almost everywhere else. At Brora, it really feels like being back in the 1960s or 1970s; all that’s missing is an old Radiola playing The Beatles best-of in the corner, the Red then the Blue. As for the charming stillman diligently watching the cut, I must admit I was just a bit surprised that he wasn’t wearing flared trousers, platform boots, or Eric-Clapton-like sideburns. In truth I struggled to manoeuvre the spirit safe handle when I was kindly offered to do so, as I was as emotional as a teenager meeting Taylor Swift backstage. Honestly...

In any case, I’ll say it again, Brora is indeed a distillery that has been restored with tact, rather than reconstructed and reinterpreted in a contemporary style. This is the major difference from the 'new' Port Ellen with its innovative and experimental approach. At Brora, it’s about recreating whisky as it was made in its prime, and that's it. In my humble opinion, when you've achieved perfection, it's imperative to stop innovating. But nowadays, doing nothing in itself is an innovation. If it ain’t broken, don’t fix it. And remember, not the worship of ashes, but the preservation of fire. Well, you know what I mean. And if 115-hour fermentations in wooden washbacks are required, then that’s what we’ll do. That said, there have been some environmental improvements, but they haven’t impacted the whisky. For example, the use of biomass for the boiler or cooling the water in the worm tubs with a so-called 'adiabatic' thermodynamic system. Brora has become carbon-neutral, but that’s about it.

So, what’s the result? Brora is producing or will produce three main styles, as the distillery did from 1969 to 1983 based on blender demands and specs, though the periods might be a bit more compressed now. I could be wrong. In any case, it’s primarily the almost unpeated style of the 1980s that has been made since the restart in 2021, but from spring 2024, a more peated 1970s style is in the works, although it’s not yet the heaviest peater, the one that the board had judged, blind, to be indistinguishable from Lagavulin’s at the very end of the 1960s. But as in the past, all malted barleys come from Glen Ord Maltings, though of course, not from the old Saladin box system, which was completely replaced in 1983 (!) by the drums first installed in the late 1960s.

Today, it’s the current moderately peated new-make, 'in the spirit of Talisker,' that we are going to taste. I find it quite incredible and spent half my time – very weakly, I confess, knowing the outcome in advance – trying to persuade Andy Flatt, the host there, that this new-make should be sold as is. I find it as brilliant as a great white rum from Jamaica or Guadeloupe. But let's move on, the owners’ policy is to release nothing before it reaches ‘double digit’ age. As the old saying goes, "no ten, no deal." So, in the future we will likely avoid STR casks, ex-ruby Port, Hungarian virgin oak, uninhibited PX, ‘double-double’ maturation (yes, that happens elsewhere) or whimsical mizunara. Noblesse oblige, Brora oblige.

So, what are we tasting today? I suggest some young Brora from the past to put things into perspective, some of today's Brora since that's what we're here for, and some recent older Broras to round it all off. How does that sound? But first, a little aperitif...

Well, there you go, we're already too high up. Wrong aperitif.

A very young Brora please…

Colour: white wine. Nose: well, this whisky is unavailable, so here’s the recipe if you want to produce a litre of the same thing. Take 50cl of old 5-year-old Clynelish with the cream label and add 10cl of yellow grapefruit juice, 10cl of green clay, 5cl of white mezcal, 10cl of ‘petrol’ style Riesling, 10cl of manzanilla, 5cl of Woolite, 1 teaspoon of powdered activated charcoal, and the water of 1 not-too-fat oyster. Stir, don’t shake. Mouth: it’s different at first, more on pink grapefruit and williams pear, all on a bed of herbs and green tea. But the waxy side, with paraffin and cold ashes, comes to the forefront soon after. There’s also the inherent redcurrant syrup, and apple and pear spirit, found in most very young Scotch malts, including those from Speyside, but that should blend into the whole eventually. The nose is more ‘mature’ than the palate, but that’s normal. Finish: long, more fermentary, more ‘beer’, more ‘new-make’, but that’s also normal at three years for a malt that hasn’t been ‘boosted’ or ‘doctored’ with a hyper-active cask. Comments: I don’t know if Diageo will appreciate what I’m going to write, but to me, with these very first batches, they’ve recreated ‘Old’ Clynelish from the 1950s-1960s slightly more than a lightly or unpeated 1980s style Brora. Will I be banned from the distillery for life? Remember, we have official 5-year-old Clynelish to compare, whereas it seems there’s no 5-year-old Brora, except perhaps in the sample libraries of the owners. But let’s stop quibbling, it’s a remarkable whisky and in any case, the lineage is incredibly evident. They’ve clearly nailed it.
SGP:642 - (no score) points.

Nose: boom. I’m almost ashamed, but I love this nose, which is full of green and black olives, acetone, smoked ham, agave, roasted pears, with that very slight ammonia note that I always enjoy (when it’s not excessive). Puffs of charcoal and an old full ashtray, then anchovies in brine. Blind, I might not even have said it was ‘simple’ new-make. With water: fresh bread, ashes, brine and that wild yet gently rustic side (young apple spirit) that is so typically ‘Brora’. Mouth (neat): formidable, the nose even amplified, with a lot more ashes and just plain peat. But it’s harsh, brutal, it needs water. With water: now it becomes quite magical. I know it’s not fashionable to get enthusiastic about a new-make in Whiskydom, but I love these very smoky olives and meats. And naturally, that slightly ‘dirty’, ‘farmyard’ side. Finish: similar profile, with the return of smoked meat in the aftertaste and a slight ‘dunder’ note that we adore. Comments: I’ve said enough.
SGP: 655 - (no score) points.

Moving on to the recent old ones...

Here it is…

Now that the distillery has reopened and we've had the chance to taste the new baby Broras, I just need to find something to criticise, a new subject to complain about, as a proper old-school whisky blogger. So far, we haven't found anything, but we'll keep thinking about it. We could certainly argue that £10,000 for the new 44-year-old is quite a steep price, but a neighbouring distillery, a bit further south towards the Black Isle, offers its 40-year-old, not a single cask, for roughly the same price, while a well-known distillery in Speyside has its ‘large batch’ 40-year-old priced at more than double. So, we've failed for now, but we'll try to find something else (there weren't even any midges during our visit last week!).
Having said that, it is interesting to note that the two 1977s we had today were both marvellous. This is not strictly speaking a surprise, but I humbly admit that in the not too distant past, for us there were the 1972s and then the others. It seems that once again, we were rather mistaken.

(With resounding thanks to Angus, David (and Alan), Andy, and the very smart and very engaging team at B.)

I am delighted to own the 1967 edition of 'The Whiskies of Scotland' by R.J.S. McDowall, published in the very year when the Clynelish Distillery, which would only be rechristened Brora two years later, was closed. The author was apparently unaware of this information at the time, but I just wanted to quote you a passage from this little book that so many seasoned enthusiasts love.
« Clynelish whisky is certainly the most fully flavoured whisky outside Islay and one is tempted to think that the peat mosses from which the peat is obtained used to grow seaweed. It is a little reminiscent of Laphroaig but less peaty. It is a man's whisky but not to everyone's taste. I find it fruity and delicious. It is now owned by The Distillers Company and it is bottled by Ainslie at 70° proof. A better bottling at 80° is available at the Royal Marine Hotel, Brora. »
I will just add that hundreds of enthusiasts, including myself, have already gone to check if there were any bottles left in the cellars at the Royal Marine Hotel in Brora over the past thirty years. The answer is "no." Cross my heart…

Check the index of all Brora we've tasted so far