Tasting Notes: The Balvenie DoubleWood

The scene: On Monday night, I sat down with my friend Cassidy for a taste of The Balvenie DoubleWood, a 12 year old Speyside single malt. As it was downright warm for an October eve, Cass opened the porch door to the balmy dusk in which bright yellow leaves swirled before wafting to the ground, landing with a crinkle.

The background: The Balvenie Distillery is an old school operation (it’s actually the only Scotch distillery still growing its own barley) that takes its name from the nearby Balvenie Castle. Now in ruins, the castle is historically linked to the likes of Mary Queen of Scots, the ultimate romantic heroine, and Robert the Bruce, the sexiest King of Scots, especially sexy because in my fantasies, as in Braveheart, he’s played by Angus Macfadyen.

The “DoubleWood” after The Balvenie name describes the single malt’s maturation process in two separate wood casks: first a whisky oak cask then a sherry oak cask, with each lending various characteristics. The whisky cask mellows the brew, providing gentle, warming layers of spice, while the sherry cask adds complexity, along with a fruity depth.

The experience: With its classic cream label and rich amber hue, the bottle opened with a promising pop of its cork stopper and the pour offered a reassuring glug glug glug. Raising our glasses to our lips, we were first hit with the scent of honey and vanilla followed quickly by sweet fruit and Sherry notes as we brought our glasses in for a sip. At first taste, The Balvenie DoubleWood is smooth and nutty with a hint of Sherry. An instant later, the flavor swells and surges over the tongue and across the mouth like a rogue wave, intensifying into a luxurious cinnamon spiciness. With a finish that is long, lingering and warming, The Balvenie is much more staying, satisfying and inviting than the embrace, kiss, et cetera of most men Cass and I have encountered.

The conclusions: The Balvenie is a soothing, gentle indulgence from packaging to finish. Even inspiring some philosophizing and waxing poetic, The Balvenie is best shared with close friends on mild fall evenings. Cass and I both went to bed that night with visions of kilted men dancing in our heads.