What is it about gifted whisky that makes it taste so much better?
I’d like to attribute it to the kindness and thought that goes into it (and don’t get me wrong, that does play into it). But even more than that, I love the thrill of tasting a bottle that I didn’t select myself. Whether the giver selected it because they assumed I’d like the profile, or because it’s one of their old favorites, it always brings to mind a curated experience. It communicates something nonverbally between friends, and translates taste from one person to another. Plus whisky you don’t pay for is just damned good.
So it was with the Edradour 10 Year, a birthday gift from my good friend Venkat. I’ll admit I had never heard of this single malt scotch before, but I was eager to give it a try. The label is rustic though elegant, bringing to mind some of the classic distillery styles that doesn’t capitalize on minimalist pretensions. The color is browned butterĀ and it has a fragrant floral/honey nose.
I poured it with a single large ice cube in my standard style and immediately took a sip to taste the largely undiluted character of the drink. Even in this state it had a smooth, rich caramel flavor cut with just a hint of campfire smoke. The taste lingers, offering just a hint of red apple on the palate.
As the cube melted and the conversation became more relaxed, so too did the flavors. Although I’ll admit that I finished the drink well before the cube melted considerably, it held its character even as it mingled with the water. The only thing that changed was the beverage became more refreshing. I drank it at night, but I could imagine this being the perfect scotch to enjoy with a splash of water after a day of yard work.
Even more impressive from a pairing perspective was its ability to hold up to the Opus X I smoked with it. Normally scotches require a certain amount of peat or smoke to achieve this, but the Edradour 10 didn’t waver despite its sweeter flavor profile.
I’d highly recommend this bottle. Once it’s finished I will seek it out againĀ (assuming I can’t convince Venkat to give me another).