“I want to struggle,” says Cristiana Tiberio, earnestly, as we talk in London. This Abruzzo winemaker has rapidly become one of Italy’s most fashionable names. Thanks to her hands-off approach in the winery, she’s a darling of the natural wine scene, but is also earning top scores and rave reviews from the likes of Eric Asimov (The New York Times), Antonio Galloni (Vinous) and Ian d’Agata. But, as I found talking to her, she’s far from complacent.  Cristiana fell in love with wine as a teenager. Her father, Riccardo, was friends with Bruno Giacosa and the legendary Piedmontese producer’s wines were her favourites. She noticed early on that wines made with the same grape from different sites tasted totally unlike each other. “Wine was an infinity world,” she tells me, still with a touch of whimsy – and it was a world that she set her heart on exploring. When the time came, she set off to study chemistry at university – looking to the science behind wine rather than more practical oenology. Before she knew it, however, she’d been diverted, ending up with a PhD in photochemistry, far from “the infinity world” she’d committed to. So she quit. Instead, she travelled the world, working with various top producers, including Jacques Selosse, Nicolas Joly, Egon Müller and leading names in Chablis, before returning to Abruzzo in 2004.  In the meantime, her father Riccardo had found a special parcel of land in the mountains near the town of Cugnoli, with an abandoned plot of Trebbiano Abruzzese – the indigenous grape that had largely disappeared from the region. With its large, juicy berries and thin skins, this variety is more susceptible to fungal disease, can be challenging to ripen and lose its bright acidity if not picked at the perfect moment. Trebbiano Toscano (ubiquitous across much of Italy, and in France under the guise of Ugni Blanc) had replaced many plantings – favoured for its small berries, ability to accrue sugar easily and retain its moderate acidity.  This abandoned vineyard had survived largely because of its unique site – with canyons to the south and west, meaning a wind blows through the vines constantly, clearing the humidity and reducing disease risk. It was also planted in the traditional Abruzzese pergola system, with two vines planted at each post, wider (four-by-three-metre) spacing, providing competition but also forcing the branches to grow longer, meaning a larger canopy, aiding photosynthesis and therefore ripening. Now 95 years old, these ungrafted vines had also endured thanks to their fortuitously sandy soils (a neighbouring plot, on marly clay, had to be replanted on rootstock, and is now around 80 years old).  While the Trebbiano Abruzzese was the lure of this site, much of the property Riccardo purchased was unplanted. Today, Tiberio has 30 hectares of vines, all in one contiguous parcel – with additional woodland, as well as alfafa and wheat fields, all part of the family’s championing of biodiversity. And, as much of the area hadn’t been planted, the property hadn’t suffered from industrial farming – meaning the soils were already healthy, however preserving it is at the forefront of what Tiberio does.  The vineyards are divided between Trebbiano Abruzzese, Pecorino and Montepulciano – a fraction of the various grapes permitted in Abruzzo, but – importantly for Cristiana – the ones that were historically native to their mountainous terrain. They only planted with massal selections – something Cristiana feels is key. She argues that clones sourced from vine nurseries are designed to be planted anywhere, sacrificing anything “native” in the name of disease resistance and/or yield. “For me, historical heritage is everything in the wines,” she explains. On a more practical front, she finds that massal selections cope better in difficult vintage conditions, adapting more easily. As evidence, she points to a plot of ungrafted vines that she planted in February of this year (2024), explaining how despite the extremely dry conditions, the vines survived – entirely unirrigated.  While Cristiana clearly values the traditional pergola training, she has chosen to use guyot training for most of their vines. The old vines – largely used for Fonte Canale and Archivio – are under pergola, however she doesn’t feel it’s right for everything. When it comes to Pecorino, she explains how the variety naturally grows vertically, meaning pergola-training would force the vine into an unnatural shape, impact sap flow, and therefore quality. As for Montepulciano, while they have 2.5 hectares (used for Archivio) under pergola, she feels that the pergola system can push the grape’s rustic character – the thin skins with less phenolic ripeness (due to shading) at risk of producing more easily extractable, less refined tannins. For her, guyot elevates the flavour profile of the grape and helps balance the potentially aggressive tannin, avoiding it being too “loud”.   Cristiana’s brother Antonio is in charge in the vineyards, where they work organically. They briefly trialled biodynamics, however have veered away from using the preparations, along with any fertiliser or seeded cover crops – keen to avoid adding any outside inputs that aren’t “respectful of their terroir”, as Cristiana puts it. The winemaking continues this philosophy, with indigenous yeast, almost no new oak across the range (just 30% for the Archivio bottling), the wines unfined and unfiltered, largely avoiding temperature control where possible, and SO2 only added at bottling.  Although organic, they aren’t certified – something she feels strongly about. She explains how both dedicated, small growers and “big, industrial” producers can bear the same certification, while one’s farming is considered and artisanal, yet the other is borderline conventional. It “certifies our attitude and we stay lazy”, she tells me. “We stop struggling with our mind to find what is better for our terroir,” she says – something that she is anxious to avoid, keen to continue striving, pushing and working to do better, rather than tick a box and move on.  And that work is not merely intellectual. Having just finished harvest in Abruzzo before touching down in London, she was soon flying off to Oregon – squeezing in a second northern-hemisphere vintage at a property there. It’s a chance to learn, and few 50-year-olds seem to be quite as restless as this one. While Tiberio is a family venture, it’s not one that was passed through the generations – something for which Cristiana is grateful; she has been able to choose her site, choose the wines she’s making and define her own philosophy – one that is now resonating loud and clear around the world.  The Tiberio range  The regional wines  Trebbiano d’Abruzzo: Tiberio’s entry-level Trebbiano Abruzzese comes from three hectares of 75-year-old pergola-trained vines, those that were grafted 14 years after their oldest (dedicated to Fonte Canale). Only made with free-run juice, it’s fermented and aged in stainless steel.  Pecorino Colline Pescaresi: The vine material for their Pecorino was selected from a few old vines on the site, but comes from a 3.8-hectare plot planted in 2001 and guyot-trained. Only made with free-run juice, it’s fermented and aged in stainless steel. These are some of the oldest Pecorino vines in the region and the wine is unlike the modest Pecorino you may have previously tasted – ageing impressively.  Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo: This rosato is very special. It comes from nine hectares of Montepulciano, planted in 2001 and Guyot-trained. Made with free-run juice (with no maceration whatsoever) and only seeing stainless steel, it’s a perfumed and bright style of rosé that can and should age.  Montepulciano d’Abruzzo: This is the largest production cuvée, coming from 15 hectares of Montepulciano – both older pergola-trained vines (62-year-old) and younger Guyot (planted in 2001). As with the other entry-level wines, it only sees stainless steel, spending 15 days on skins.  Single-vineyard bottlings  Fonte Canale: Arguably Tiberio’s most sought-after wine, Fonte Canale is pure Trebbiano Abruzzese from 736 ungrafted, 95-year-old vines, spread across around two hectares of sandy soils. (They currently aren’t replanting the individual vines when they die, as don’t want to plant grafted stock, but are cautious of fragile young ungrafted vines attracting phylloxera.) It was first made in 2012, with these ungrafted vines needing time to recover from their previous neglect. The combination of site and variety produces wines with modest alcohols (often 12-12.5%) and naturally low pH (the 2018 is a mere 2.7pH!), giving a backbone of taut acidity (as Tiberio says – “not raw, but flavourful acid”). The site’s indigenous yeast produces a cool ferment (reaching maximum 23̊C) and a wine that doesn’t need racking post ferment, with little reduction. The malolactic is naturally blocked by the low pH and the wine only sees stainless steel – “to allow this wine to express its meaning”, Cristiana says. This stunning, vibrant white is a pure expression of a special site – one that ages beautifully, with its old vines almost overpowering vintage. If any further praise were needed for this wine, it has featured on the list at Massimo Bottura’s Osteria Francescana since its first release.  Colle Vota: First bottled separately in 2014, this vineyard is always the last to be picked. Planted in 2000 with massal selections from their old Montepulciano and guyot-trained, Tiberio finds the berries have thicker skins but release less during maceration (around 20 days). She also finds the tannins in the stems different here so is using a small portion of whole-bunch fermentation in the blend. Again with only free-run juice, the wine doesn’t see any oak whatsoever. Coming in a Burgundy-shaped bottle, this is the lighter of Tiberio’s two Montepulciano bottlings, but still with a firm tannic backbone, but with more delicate perfume.  Archivio: Launched in 2017, Archivio comes from the property’s 60-year-old pergola-trained Montepulciano on clay-rich soils, where the wind helps thicken the skins. Tiberio finds that the fruit has thinner skins from the middle of the pergola system, so these bunches are harvested separately. With thinner skins, the ferment has more lees and more reduction, needing oxygenation, so this is the 30% that goes into new oak to give it the necessary air. The bolder and firmer of the two Montepulciano bottlings, it is bottled in a Bordeaux-style bottle to indicate its ageing capacity – a wine that Tiberio confesses can be “monolithic” in youth, but offers great potential.  And coming soon… Quarmarì: A new single-vineyard Pecorino from 2023, this wine takes its name from the family dog, who passed away a few years ago. The wine has – so far – only been tasted by Ian d’Agata, who wrote that it is “a wine so amazingly good and unique that it will shatter all you thought you knew about the grape and what it can deliver”. Given how good even the entry-level Pecorino is, we can’t wait to try this.  The vertical tasting Pecorino  2006 Pecorino Colline Pescaresi: It’s hard to believe this is close to two decades old – the wine vibrant, lively and juicy with lean lemon freshness to the palate. There’s a suppleness to the body, yet it’s taut and mineral, and more honeyed and herbal notes emerging with air.  2009 Pecorino Colline Pescaresi: The 2009 Pecorino is instantly open, giving sage, thyme and honey on the nose, alongside fresh white peach. On the palate, however, it shows its restraint – still fulsome but with a mineral backbone that makes it feel youthful.  2013 Pecorino Colline Pescaresi: Leesy and mineral, this is almost reminiscent of mature Chablis or Blanc de Blancs Champagne – with a honeyed, chamomile edge. The palate is waxy and long, with a herbal lift to the finish.  2015 Pecorino Colline Pescaresi: There remains a creaminess to the nose here – the wine tighter than the 2013, with a limey, lean purity and plenty of energy.  2019 Pecorino Colline Pescaresi: This is strikingly different after the 2015 – much riper and more exotic, with apricot, peach, mango and orange peel. Combined with the wine’s viscosity, there’s something Viognier-like, however there’s still brilliant, mineral energy here, with tight, citrus-edged acidity.  Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo  2022 Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo: It will be amazing to see this wine develop. The nose is restrained – you can feel the potential behind. Gradually wild strawberry and bright raspberry emerge, alongside delicate rose petal florals. It’s tightly wound with immense energy to the flinty palate, a minerality driving through its core into the long, mouthwatering blood-orange finish.  2020 Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo: Deeper-coloured than the 2018, the 2020 has a brighter nose – with raspberry sherbet, strawberry laces and a creamy richness. The acidity again is in the driving seat, the palate chalky and mineral with lemon freshness and a slight phenolic grip that frames the crunchy red fruit.  2018 Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo: A surprisingly deep pink (especially given this is made only with free-run juice), with a copper hue. This was a real highlight of the tasting. The nose combines a flinty minerality with a funky, savoury, almost cheesy note, alongside dried cherry and rose florals. The palate has a line of bright acidity and a mouthwatering lemon finish. Very serious rosé that deserves bottle age.  Fonte Canale  2021 Fonte Canale: From a very dry growing season, this is such a baby. The nose is mineral with notes of pear skin, white florals, lime pith and cordial, with riper apricot emerging. It’s vibrant and full of tight, lemony acid, driving on to the chalky finish. Precise and pointed, there’s crisp apple and herbal freshness, with a saline edge.  2020 Fonte Canale: At first with a touch of gunflint reduction, the smokiness gradually lifts to reveal a tight and lean expression of Trebbiano d’Abruzzese – all citrus and mineral, needing time and air to reveal itself fully.  2019 Fonte Canale: The nose here combines vibrant green apple, greengage and lemon with a sea-spray freshness. It’s still limey and tight on the palate, but with a soft, full weight too – with generous yet tangy, white-pear fruit on the mid-palate, before tightening up on the saline, mineral finish.  2018 Fonte Canale: Dried herbs mingle on the nose with more hedonistic fruit – peach and green mango,, with real weight to the fruit here. There’s still the bite of piercing lemon acidity, surrounded by fleshier peach fruit.  2017 Fonte Canale: This feels much more closed in comparison to the 2018, with pure citrus energy, tangy, pure and limey, but with a slight creaminess mingling with the tart fruit. It’s concentrated and full of promise, but not giving much away now.  2016 Fonte Canale: Waxy and bright, the 2016 is full of energy. Pure flint, Meyer lemon and grapefruit pith, with more delicate white florals all vie for attention, while the palate is all about pure crunchy apple, minerals and its vibrant acidity.   2015 Fonte Canale: The nose here is complex – with notes of honey, chamomile, tarragon, bruised apple and a praline richness. The palate, meanwhile, feels brilliantly youthful, with lime sherbet and chalky minerality driving long into the mouthwatering finish.  2014 Fonte Canale: This was closed at first, with subtle floral tones of apple blossom and honeysuckle dancing on a background of lemon and pear flesh. The palate has that familiar drive of acidity leading into the impressively long, saline finish.  2013 Fonte Canale: Fresh cashew mingles with lemon sherbet on the subtle nose of the 2013, a wine with lift and energy. The palate is lively and long, with the finish offering honey, herbal notes and sweet hay.  2012 Fonte Canale: The first ever vintage of Fonte Canale, it was a real treat to try this special wine. The nose combines rosemary and thyme with candied lemon peel, as well as more honeyed notes. The palate is lithe and vibrant still, with a stony purity and saline finish.   Colle Vota  2020 Colle Vota: This combines juicy dark fruit, sweet spice, baked plum and violet florals. Rich black and red cherry fills the palate, with an edge of dried herbs and the scent of nutmeg. The tannins are savoury and firm, with a chalky freshness and zesty edge to the acidity.  2019 Colle Vota: The 2019 offers floral lift, with brighter cherry and raspberry fruit. Less savoury than the 2020, the palate is tight and mineral, yet with a softness to the mouth-filling fruit, all cut by juicy acidity.  2018 Colle Vota: This is drastically different to the 2019, offering an aromatic profile of baked strawberry and tea leaf – almost lapsang souchong. The chalky minerality stands out here, with high, piercing acidity giving the wine backbone.  2014 Colle Vota: There’s a significant colour change moving from the 2018 to the 2014 Colle Vota, while the nose reinforces this shift with leather and damp undergrowth sitting alongside dried red fruit. The tannins have softened and are supple, while the acidity still refreshes and cuts through the fruit.  Archivio  2020 Archivio: Savoury and rich, this is a powerful, dark, compact Montepulciano d’Abruzzo that needs time. It is intense and structured, full of tight bramble fruit and drying tannins, but with an impressive line of acidity at its core.  2019 Archivio: This is much more open than the 2020, with a sweeter, more red-fruited profile, and more overt sweet spice. Dried herbs and incense complement the bramble fruit. There’s a firm chalky grip to the tannins, tightening up as the structure announces itself on the palate, yet with mouthwatering acid keeping things balanced.  2018 Archivio: The sweet, baked red fruit of the vintage seems to carry through both of the reds in 2018. There’s a softness to the fruit, yet still power behind. It’s full-bodied and firm, yet the most approachable of the trio of 2018, 2019 and 2020, with fresh, juicy acidity.  2017 Archivio: There’s a touch of maturity just starting to show here, with the first hint of sousbois and leathery richness, an almost tarry character, sitting alongside the sweet plum, baked blackberry and smoke. The tannic framework stands strong, even seven years on, needing additional bottle age to round out.  Explore all current Tiberio listings or read more about Italy 

Few names in Abruzzo have become as sought-after as Tiberio, best known for her single-vineyard Fonte Canale, Colle Vota and Archivio bottlings. We sat down with Cristiana Tiberio herself to talk about the project – and taste through a vertical of these extraordinary, category-defying wines

Sitting down with Cristiana Tiberio, cult Abruzzo winemaker, and tasting a vertical of Fonte Canale, Colle Vota, Archivio wines

Cristiana Tiberio – advancing Abruzzo

Advancing Abruzzo: Tiberio

The air is cool and crisp, with the radiant blue skies that only late winter can provide. On the crest of the hill in front of me, a troupe is studiously pruning Ch. Lafite Rothschild’s oldest Cabernet Sauvignon vines, their roots sinking deep into the precious gravel soils that define the First Growth’s wines. Looking over a junior member of the team’s shoulder is Luís Pinto, making sure that no mistakes are being made as they shape the vines for the future, laying the groundwork for not just 2024, but the vintages beyond that. Sporting navy-blue Domaines Barons de Rothschild overalls (vintage, sadly out of production and unavailable for purchase – I asked), Pinto has been working at the estate for over 30 years, and now leads one of the vineyard teams. As you might guess given his name, his family is Portuguese, although he was born and raised in Bordeaux. In fact, his mother even worked the harvest at Lafite, and Pinto has pictures of himself as a child at the on-site nursery the château then had for workers’ offspring – perhaps sewing the first seeds of his future profession. As Louis Caillard, Vineyard Manager at Ch. Lafite Rothschild and Ch. Duhart-Milon, explains, Pinto isn’t an anomaly. Caillard heads up the 80-strong team which works across both properties (and are managed identically when it comes to the vines). The vast majority of this team are extremely local, coming from within a 20-kilometre radius of the château, and once they join the team, few ever leave. Much has changed over Pinto’s many years working these vines – offering an on-the-ground view of viticultural trends. He remembers a time when they would rip out hedges and trees to make room for vines, focused more on yield, now coming full-circle to reinstate the biodiversity that existed before. Today there’s more appreciation of the craft and calling of a vigneron, or vine-grower – a return to traditional vineyard management.  Looking at pruning, for example, Pinto explains how there are no set rules: “Each person prunes a vine as they wish,” he tells me. They respond to each vine, its needs, looking at the sap flow and thinking about its long-term future, rather than just the next season. It’s very Simonit&Sirch in approach – although Pinto is bemused by such a suggestion; for him, it’s how he learnt to understand vines. “All it is, effectively, is that we think,” says Caillard. “It’s always existed; it’s just that we had forgotten it a little.” The challenge is teaching this sort of instinctive approach to managing a vineyard. “I don’t follow a recipe anymore,” says Pinto. It’s not just knowledge he is trying to pass on to his team, but “a way of thinking”, he says, one that inevitably comes from experience, from making mistakes and learning from them. There’s a drastic difference between studying the theory from a book, and standing in front of a vine, secateurs in hand. Of course, the idea of making mistakes when the wine commands the reputation (and price) that Lafite does might seem daunting – but it’s this that sets top addresses apart. Lafite’s scrupulous approach to quality, declassifying any fruit that doesn’t meet its very high standards, is a luxury that not all producers can afford. For Pinto, it’s this dedication to quality and long-term view that has kept him at Lafite all these years. There are plenty of properties that will rip vines out once they reach a certain age, all in the name for better crop loads, but at Lafite, the philosophy is to see “how far we can take the vine”, nurturing parcels into old age. His work might be cyclic, following the vine’s yearly progression, but there are changes every year – an effort to constantly evolve and improve. This, perhaps, is what – for me – is most interesting about Lafite. It’s not just the finesse and elegance of its pinpoint Grand Vin that sets this estate apart, but the way in which it has quietly been changing the way Bordeaux works, pushing forward in its pursuit of excellence. For over a decade, they’ve had Manuela Brando leading their Research & Development; talking to her is fascinating, with trials on everything from biodynamics, rootstocks and treatments to umbrella-like covers as an alternative way to combat mildew. If successful, these trials are transferred to the wider vineyard – with training that means the team never stops learning. Just the other day, Pinto tells me, they had a session on agroforestry – something that he’s clearly fascinated by. Pinto seems relaxed, joking lightly with us, but is also quietly serious when it comes to his work, knowing that every decision they make in the vineyard is critical to the quality of the wine that eventually emerges from the cellar. “Every decision has an impact,” echoes Caillard – “and, in fact, nothing is simple.” Difficult it might be, but Pinto is pleased with the progression he has seen over the years. “You can feel the terroir a bit more again,” he says. The shift to organic, re-introduction of hedgerows and trees to the vineyard, which in turn has brought an array of fauna – butterflies and ladybirds, for example, has transformed the property. As an apiarist, he’s acutely aware of the wildflowers that now blossom and abundant bees they attract. At the end of the day, however, there’s no wizardry, he suggests, to what they do – it’s simple: “We respect the vines a bit more.” With the gloss of an estate like Lafite, a First Growth whose reputation is so immense, it’s easy to forget the work that happens behind the scenes. But, as Caillard knows all too well, “You cannot achieve anything technical without the people; people are key to everything we do.” People like Pinto, so clearly at one with their calling, the place and vines, are what make truly great wine – separating the excellent and exceptional. As our conversation draws to a close, Pinto returns back to his team, his stocky frame receding down the row of vines and weathered face turned once more to the bright sunshine, as deeply rooted in this terroir as the Cabernet Sauvignon that surrounds him. Browse all current listings of Ch. Lafite Rothschild, or read more about Bordeaux

As we continue to take you behind the scenes at Bordeaux’s top addresses, our latest feature shines a light on Ch. Lafite Rothschild. We caught up with one of its vineyard team, a vigneron who has dedicated over 30 years of his life to the First Growth’s vines

Taking you behind the scenes at Ch. Lafite Rothschild to talk to one of the Bordeaux First Growth’s vineyard workers

The call of the vine – Ch. Lafite Rothschild

The call of the vine: Ch. Lafite Rothschild

“People seem to like it,” says Callie Louw in his thick Afrikaans accent. The winemaker behind Porseleinberg shrugs, casual about his wine’s success. Since its first vintage in 2010, this Swartland Syrah has rapidly become one of South Africa’s best and most sought-after, much to his bemusement, it seems.  The 173-hectare estate is rugged and wild, sitting atop the Porcelain Mountain (Porseleinberg in Afrikaans) in the Swartland. The first vines had been planted here in 1997, with wines previously marketed under the Schonenberg label. Louw first came across the site while at Rustenberg, who sourced fruit from there – the bunches and individual berries were so tiny that Louw thought at first that the owners weren’t giving them the best fruit (although he may not have put it so politely). But those miniscule bunches were all these rocky schist soils, with almost no topsoil, could muster. However small the yields, the quality and concentration was enough to convince Marc Kent (Managing Partner and Technical Director at Boekenhoutskloof) to buy the farm in 2009 – and he approached Louw, who was then working at Tulbagh Mountain Vineyards (now Fable Mountain Vineyards), to develop the property.  The team instantly set about a massive planting program and there are around 90 hectares under vine today. Most of the fruit was destined for Boekenhoutskloof’s flagship wine, The Chocolate Block, but with 4.5 hectares of older plots and a ramshackle shed-cum-winery, Louw – with Kent’s blessing – decided to do something different, and Porseleinberg was born.  “It’s a really special site,” Louw says, explaining how the vines sit on almost pure bedrock with just a skin of topsoil over the blue schist. “We’re effectively farming little bonsais here.” It tells you just how challenging this site is that only half the vines they planted in 2009 survived; but the results are clearly worth the effort. And they weren’t the first to recognise the site’s potential – as well as Rustenberg (where Adi Badenhorst was then winemaker), Eben Sadie had sourced fruit from the property for Columella in 2000 and 2001. While the wine came originally from just 4.5 hectares, today there are 14 dedicated to Porseleinberg, with the first of the younger vines coming on stream from 2013. When Louw arrived in 2009, the vines were dry-farmed – and he managed to get 3.5 tons/hectare of fruit in 2010. But the yield was a tiny two tons the following year; it was clear that dry-farming just wasn’t an option for this site, the soils too poor to hold onto the water – if the skies even gave any. “Schist is actually spelt wrong, it’s supposed to be s**t,” Louw says, laughing. Despite the need to irrigate, he’s well aware of the costs involved – particularly given any water they use needs to be pumped seven kilometres and up the mountain. During the drought between 2016 and 2018, the river they use for irrigation dried up, Louw’s house water ran out in May – and police were patrolling water sources. There’s no avoiding how precious a resource water is here.  The site had been farmed organically and Louw continued this, however in 2016, when they looked to plant another 45 hectares, he wanted to make sure that he gave these new plantings the best chance – and be able to farm organically in the long term. As of 2023, the property is once more certified organic, having been able to return to the process in 2020. And it is firmly in the vineyard that Louw focuses, feeling not just that quality comes from the vine – but from the soil, as he gradually looks to build the level of organic matter. “The only thing that I can do better is farm better,” he says.  The winemaking is relatively simple and hands-off (as Louw says, “I’m quite proudly lazy in the winery.”) – but has evolved over the years. Louw uses 100% whole-bunch, although the fruit is crushed lightly (previously by foot, now by being run through a pump) to avoid carbonic fermentation and its more confected aromas. The fermentations are all native, with alcohols generally sitting between 13.5 and 14%. Maturation is in a combination of foudre and concrete, and varied more over the first four vintages as Louw figured out what worked (with the 2010 and 2011 vintages aged in concrete only). While some of the early vintages spent up to two years in concrete and oak, he has reduced this to 12 months (from 2014), favouring more time in bottle prior to release instead.   Although the wines are decidedly fresh and balanced, the pHs are naturally high – between 3.7 and 4.1, with most vintages sitting at the higher end of that spectrum. Given the risks of bacterial spoilage that this brings, SO2 levels are relatively high (around 100ppm total) – something Louw feels is essential for wines that are absolutely built to age. And that’s something that has long set Porseleinberg apart.   “I’m still wearing the pants I bought in 2004 – I know nothing about style,” Louw jokes. There’s no shortage of brilliant new-wave South African wine, however most are built to be open and approachable in their youth – not necessarily glou-glou, but leaning into the lighter style of reds that has become fashionable. Porseleinberg was, at least at first, decidedly not. The earlier vintages are stern and serious, and need(ed) significant time to resolve and soften – it’s that style (whether Louw would describe it as such or not) that has earned the wine the moniker “Cape Cornas”, a style that is both thanks to the natural intensity of the low-yielding site and Louw’s love of old wine.  But the 2018 vintage brought a significant shift – one that has taken Porseleinberg to new heights. Louw visited a friend who was working at Domaine Jamet, and saw how rather than using punch-downs or pump-overs, they submerged the cap throughout the fermentation and maceration, allowing them to extract more gently. Most winemakers might have trialled the technique on a parcel, but not Louw – who says, frankly, “I put my chips all in.” He returned to the Swartland and set to work, making his own plates to hold the cap in place during fermentation. Fortunately for him, the gamble paid off.  The more recent vintages display more perfume, precision and finesse, without sacrificing the almost fearsome structure that makes them so age-worthy – and, as Louw says, it means he does even less work in the winery (“I fit about one more beer in a day,” he says, smiling). While earlier vintages were more about their tannic framework, the fruit, Louw suggests, is more present now – covering the tannins in the wines’ youth.  When I ask Louw if he wishes he’d used the submerged-cap technique from the start, his answer is no. “It’s amazing to grow up with the wine,” he says. And somehow that makes sense, for this is clearly a very personal project. Although Boekenhoutskloof might own Porseleinberg, it is run and managed totally separately. During our conversation and as we taste through a complete vertical, back to 2010 (the first time Louw has ever had the chance to do so), it is clear that this is not just a wine from this specific place, but also from this specific wine-grower. Over 12 vintages, the style evolves, the variation between years shining through, but the mineral backbone and structural imprint of this site remains. It’s a remarkable wine, and one that is only set to get even better as the vines age and Louw builds on his experience. Ignore it at your peril.  Tasting every vintage of Porseleinberg: 2010 to 2021 2010 Porseleinberg: From the original 4.5 hectares, the first vintage of Porseleinberg offers a savoury, bloody, iron-rich nose, with an edge of herbal, menthol notes and dried red fruit. The immense structure is still present, although the tannins have softened with over a decade in bottle. That structure is complemented by a bite of fresher, dark fruit and juicy acidity. Aged for 16 months in 65% foudre and 35% concrete.  2011 Porseleinberg: This wine still feels young, the nose brooding with dark fruit, leather and liquorice, the palate tightly packed with intense, black-berried fruit and a chalky grip of tannins. With the year’s conditions only two tons per hectare were harvested, the smallest crop ever from the site – and given the small volumes this was never released, with only 800 bottles made. Aged for 24 months in concrete egg.  2012 Porseleinberg: This is more supple and soft than the 2012, with a savoury and saline profile. There’s more elegance than the first two vintages, with dark, intense fruit yet with an appealing purity, complemented by notes of tobacco spice and liquorice allsorts. Only 2,760 bottles were made. Aged for 12 months in concrete egg.  2013 Porseleinberg: The fruit here is distinctly different – sweeter strawberry with a touch of herbal eucalyptus alongside savoury hints that point to the beginnings of tertiary development. It’s incredibly concentrated, structured and compact – a wine that is built for the long-haul. Aged for 24 months in 60% foudre and 40% concrete.  2014 Porseleinberg: The 2014 was one of the more open vintages in the line-up, from a particularly wet year and late harvest. The nose entices with an earthiness, a dusting of cocoa, deep red cherry and chocolate-covered strawberries. There’s a juicy purity to the palate with a chalky grip and savoury, smoky edge to the long finish. Aged for 12 months in 100% foudre.  2015 Porseleinberg: This is still a little reductive, and will benefit from additional time in bottle. As this reduction blows off, it reveals a fynbos-accented nose of dark fruit. From a cool vintage, the palate is a tight ball still – intensely mineral and chalky, with impressive purity, but it’s not yet revealing its potential. One to watch. Aged for 12 months in 90% foudre and 10% concrete egg.  2016 Porseleinberg: The 2016 vintage brought the driest winter in decades and another tiny crop. The wine is full of sweet red fruit, but there’s a firm, stony minerality to the nose, as well as floral and spicy tones that give it lift. There’s a fine-boned framework here and gorgeous freshness. Aged for 12 months in 70% foudre and 30% concrete egg.  2017 Porseleinberg: The 2017 vintage is sweet and concentrated; offering both a swarthy dark profile and a sweet, red-fruited intensity. It’s tight and bold, with an iron backbone, firm tannic structure and a powerful finish defined by its dark fruit and minerality. Aged for 12 months in 70% foudre and 30% concrete egg.  2018 Porseleinberg: The 2018 vintage is the first in which Louw used the submerged-cap technique – and there’s an instant shift in the style of the wine. It’s brighter, more aromatic with more intense herbal and spicy notes, while the palate is layered with juicier, crunchy red fruit that masks the tannins. The finish is long, spicy and mineral. Superb. Aged for 12 months in 90% foudre and 10% concrete egg.  2019 Porseleinberg: This vintage saw a break in the drought for South Africa, with rainfall around average and a relatively cool growing season. The nose here is dominated by herbs and spice – green peppercorn, dried rosemary and sage; leading on to a palate that offers pure red-berried fruit. There’s a mineral, chalky, furry grip of velvet tannins that frames the generous cherry fruit, with a saline mineral finish. Delicious. Aged for 12 months in 90% foudre and 10% concrete egg.  2020 Porseleinberg:  The 2020 vintage was warmer and the wine speaks to that – with richer and darker fruit character that dominates its profile. The warmer conditions have added a polish to the wine, with more open feel, despite the trademark structure that sits behind the fruit. The wine is a little reductive at this stage, and needs more time to unfurl. Aged for 12 months in 90% foudre and 10% concrete egg.  2021 Porseleinberg: The latest release of Porseleinberg is unsurprisingly impressive, but with a finesse that suggests it could be Callie Louw’s best vintage to date. A long, cool growing season with sufficient rainfall resulted in a leisurely harvest in 2021, allowing the team to take their time to pick. Since the shift to submerged cap in 2018, quality here has leapt ahead. The 2021 shows a spicy, mineral intensity – with the fruit more subdued, taking a backseat to the stony structure and texture of the wine. It’s supple, flowing across the palate like silk, yet with a super-fine grip of mineral tannins and the shy fruit that points to its immense age-worthiness. Savoury herbal tones mingle with the red fruit, while there’s a saline freshness and spicy pepper tones that linger on the long finish. Amazingly approachable now, it will only improve with a couple of years in bottle and continue to evolve over the next 15 years or so. Aged for 12 months in 95% foudre and 5% concrete.   Browse all current listings of Porseleinberg 

Porseleinberg has become one of South Africa’s most collectable wines. As the estate releases its 12th vintage, Sophie Thorpe tastes through a full vertical and talks to winemaker Callie Louw about what makes the site, and wine, so special

Porseleinberg is one of South Africa’s most collectable wines. We taste through a full vertical of the Swartland Syrah and talk to winemaker Callie Louw

An icon in the making – Porseleinberg

Porseleinberg: an icon in the making

One hundred years ago, two men, inspired by the Scottish distilling tradition, produced the first Japanese whisky. In the years that have followed, the category’s fortunes – much like its founders’ relationship – have been turbulent.    The story begins in 1923 when pharmaceutical wholesaler turned Spanish wine importer Shinjiro Torii invested his family fortune in building the Yamazaki distillery, against their advice. Torii enlisted the help of wet-behind-the-ears chemist Masataka Taketsuru – who had spent time learning his craft in Scotland – to lead production on their first whisky, Suntory Shirofuda, which was released in 1929. The two men did not see eye to eye and parted ways following the dismal reception of Shirofuda. Taketsuru famously went on to found the other great Japanese whisky producer, Nikka, and their fierce rivalry persisted. This is one of the reasons Japanese distilleries, to this day, blend in-house rather than trade liquid. Despite this rocky start, the Japanese domestic whisky market looked bullish by the late 1930s – Yamazaki’s next whisky (Suntory Kakubin, released in 1937) was more warmly received and Taketsuru successfully re-entered the scene with his first whisky, Nikka Yoichi, in 1940.  Fast forward to the early 1980s and the category was in fine fettle – Suntory and Nikka had both released their first single malt expressions and there was plenty of cause for optimism. But this prosperity sadly did not last as a steep decline in consumption caused the Japanese whisky market to splutter and almost entirely stall, resulting in many distilleries, including Karuizawa, being forced to close their doors. Both Yamazaki and Nikka managed to stay afloat but their output was significantly reduced as the economy and category stagnated, marking a bleak 25-year chapter in Japanese whisky’s history.   When demand was reignited around the mid-to-late 2000s, it largely came from Europe. A perfect storm caused this spike in interest, including wider interest in Japan (think Bill Murray in Lost in Translation), the resurgence of the Highball cocktail (circa 2007) and Suntory’s Yamazaki Single Malt Sherry Cask 2013 being named the world’s best in 2014 – a first for the category. Around this time, the world was also introduced to Ichiro Akuto’s highly collectable Card Series and the lost distilling icon, Karuizawa. “The mad scramble for crumbs on the Japanese whisky scene is something nobody could have predicted,” acclaimed Japanese whisky writer and Ghost Series independent bottler Stefan Van Eycken tells me. “In the space of 10 years, the situation went from being able to buy a whole range of single-cask Japanese whiskies at a big electronics chain for peanuts to bottles not even reaching the shelves of liquor stores anymore. “Even I, who had been exploring the Japanese whisky scene in the ‘dark ages’, couldn’t have predicted that,” he says matter-of-factly. “If I could have, I would have rented a van, bought up all the bottlings that were available for purchase and I could have retired by now.” Yumi Yoshikawa joined the team at Chichibu in 2013 after a two-year stint in Scotland, first working in the Highlander Inn in Craigellachie – which will require little introduction for spirits journalists or enthusiasts – and at the Bruichladdich Distillery on Islay. “People didn’t know the value of aged [Japanese] whisky back then,” Yoshikawa tells me. “Or that Japan had a long whisky history,” she adds. Somebody who was instrumental in educating the world on these two points is Marcin Miller, a man whose fortitude dragged Karuizawa out of obscurity. The genteel and thoroughly entertaining former Whisky Magazine Editor turned drinks entrepreneur, recalls the landscape when he and business partner David Croll first tasted those fateful Karuizawa single casks in the early 2000s.  “The most common complaint [from whisky enthusiasts] at the time would seem to be that it's all very well for me tasting this stuff but we never get to see any where we are in Western Europe or Northern America,” he recalls. So the two men set about changing this by buying the remaining stock from the then-lost Karuizawa, bottling it, and making it available to the masses – with resounding success. It’s a gross misapprehension – held by many – that the duo meandered into a meeting room, tasted a parcel of Karuizawa, bought it on the spot, and bottled it shortly after, grinning like Cheshire cats as the coffers swelled. In truth, it was four and a half years of negotiation and countless sleepless nights during the process. When pallets of casks from the ghost distillery in a nascent whisky market were finally shipped to them, there was no guarantee the wider whisky world would be interested. “Whatever anyone says, it really was not easy…” He trails off, transported to that time, and all the challenges the pair transversed when bringing the mature Japanese whisky from a then-unknown producer to its now almost mythic status.  Miller talks of the “extraordinary, phenomenal effect” Karuizawa had on him. Croll, Miller and acclaimed drinks writer Dave Broom – who has since quite literally written the book on Japanese whisky – initially tasted 69 single-cask Karuizawa samples. “I would have bottled any of those casks,” Miller says, a fond smile warming his face. If it hadn’t been for Croll, who had lived in Japan for 30 years and owned a successful drinks business, Miller says they likely never would have got a foot in the door at Karuizawa – or secured the exclusive distribution rights of the much-lauded Chichibu and Hanyu. “I dare say Karuizawa would have been blended away into big plastic five-litre tubs of supermarket whisky,” Miller says reticently. When Van Eycken moved to Japan around the same time as Miller and Co were negotiating the Karuizawa deal, he hadn’t even realised whisky was being produced there. Japanese whisky consumption and production were at an all-time low and the general feeling, he says, was that the whisky made in Japan was “cheap and good for getting a buzz when going out, but that the good stuff – that you would savour – was Scotch, and Bourbon, to a lesser extent”. The intrepid Van Eycken was taken aback by the quality of the long-aged liquids he sampled on his travels and couldn’t understand why this sentiment wasn’t shared domestically or further afield. When Japanese whisky’s popularity did finally begin to soar, he was perfectly placed to fill the knowledge chasm with his widely acclaimed Nonjatta website and, later, his seminal work Whisky Rising – a fully updated second edition of which came out earlier this year.  “When I wrote the original edition in 2016, there were 14 active distilleries in Japan,” he says. “Fast forward to mid-2022 and there were 41 active distilleries (and even more in the progress of getting ready to distil),” Van Eycken tells me. All of the new distilleries, he says, are attempting to follow the so-called “craft model” with a single pair of pot stills and fairly limited production. The inspiration, of course, being Ichiro Akuto and his incredible accomplishments over the past 15 years at Chichibu. “But not everyone can be an Ichiro – though most new distillers are certainly hoping to be equally successful, if not more, than Ichiro,” he adds. Several of these new distilleries are located in and around the town of Karuizawa. “My personal feeling is that it doesn’t make a lot of sense to try and compete with the legend that is the (old) Karuizawa distillery,” Van Eycken is quick to add. “The liquid that was made there turned out to be something very special, and not only by design. I have had the dubious pleasure of tasting the new-make from the old Karuizawa distillery and it was absolutely foul.  “But during the maturation process, over 20, 30, 40 years, something magical happened. Some of this can be explained, but most of it is a hermetic mystery. We simply cannot know why decades later this harsh spirit transformed into a sublime whisky (in most cases). Even if you wanted to replicate this whisky – or aspects of it – you couldn’t.  “And hoping to match the quality of the (original) Karuizawa whisky… well, it’s good to aim high but it's a bit like naming your kid Roger Federer in the hope that he would turn into a tennis player of the same calibre. Why would you want to put that sort of pressure on the kid?”  Miller is humility personified and doesn’t want to come across as a wizened cynic or, in his words, “boring old fart”, but he’s not confident that all the country’s new distilleries are set for success. “I think people are now trying to replicate the business success but without the foundation of the liquid. They are selling Japanese whisky futures but who knows what the liquid is going to be like because it's not just A + B = C.” There is a cautionary tale in the annals of Scottish whisky distilling that Japanese producers might be wise to heed. Scotch has famously fallen victim to its own success – with booms and busts resulting in whisky lakes, or lochs, that have crippled the industry and forced mass distillery closures. In so faithfully replicating Scotch, there is a real danger Japan will find itself back in the 1980s when the likes of Karuizawa were shuttered. This time, however, there would be many more casualties.      “For the time being, the Japanese whisky scene continues to be marked by an unbridled optimism,” Van Eycken adds. “Distillers price their (invariably young) whiskies very high (compared with similarly established whisky markets around the world) and consumers snap up the bottles regardless of the (sometimes unjustifiably) high prices.”  This price war is one of the reasons Miller et al sold their remaining stock of Karuizawa, which had initially been priced fairly but wasn’t the case when they left the scene. The 1960 Karuizawa, for example, which yielded 41 bottles was released circa 2014 for £12,500. Within a decade, those same bottles were easily reaching $375,000. “That's not a bad return in 10 years,” Miller says caustically. “But that's not why we did it. If that had been our motivation, we'd have just held on to it and had 41 times that.” For those still in the industry – and disciples of it – there is a real push to protect the integrity of Japanese whisky and futureproof it. Yoshikawa picks up the point, outlining that the few have muddied the water for the many: “The rapid publicity and the reputation of Japanese whisky have led to its use of excessive PR strategies, even when this is not in line with the facts of the product.” For these reasons, she is an advocate of more stringent regulations, like the ones announced by the Japan Spirits and Liqueurs Makers Association in 2021 which aims to restrict certain practices – like labelling whisky that isn’t actually from Japan as Japanese whisky – akin to those enshrined and strongly policed in Scotland. But she, like many, thinks these could go further and believe it is important to continue scrutinising the practices of the small and larger players, ensuring there is greater transparency and less “skullduggery”, as Van Eycken puts it. As the ink dries on the past 100 years of Japanese whisky, no one knows what the next century might entail – but there's plenty of excitement. The landscape will undoubtedly change once more, and new giants and legends will likely emerge. For whisky enthusiasts, the challenge – as always – will be pre-empting the plot twists and securing bottles before they become little more than folklore.  Browse all Japanese whisky or read more editorial

As Japanese whisky enters its 100th year, producers are in a mad scramble to build the next legend. Holly Motion assesses whether previous fairytale endings can be repeated – and ponders if those individuals attempting to stand on the shoulders of giants might have a great fall

Exploring the epic story of Japanese whisky – from its genesis, to rebirth and future – as it celebrates its centenary.

100 years of Japanese whisky

A modern epic: 100 years of Japanese whisky

So far, so normal in the Scotch whisky world. What happened next is quite unusual. Not one of the experts – with decades of experience and dozens of book credits to their name – could so much as hazard a guess.   The answer to the seemingly simple but dastardly question dumfounded them all. The as-yet-unidentified liquid was a single grain Scotch whisky that had slumbered in a lone Sherry butt for 53 years. Now almost jet-black in colour, the single grain had taken on incredible, rich notes of dried fruits, roasted coffee, and muscovado toffee – and it was indistinguishable from a greatly aged single malt.   The Cask Trials, which is the name given to this highly unusual liquid that left some of the finest palates awestruck and not-so-secretly hoping for a bottle in their gift bag, is just one of the panoply of independently bottled House of Hazelwood releases from the Gordon family’s private Scotch whisky archives.   Somewhat surprisingly, you won’t find a single malt among them. These rare whiskies, which have been amassed over the past 100 years by the owners of Glenfiddich and The Balvenie, were released to the public for the first time in 2022 in two, painfully scarce, collections. The Charles Gordon Collection (all priced above £3,000 per bottle and aged for at least 40 years), and the Legacy Collection (priced between £950 and £2,000 a bottle) are all well-aged blended Scotch, blended grain and blended malt whiskies that have been matured in the most novel ways.   “Bringing old, expensive and unusual blended whiskies to the market is slightly counterintuitive,” House of Hazelwood Director Jonathan Gibson – who was instrumental in creating the range – candidly tells me. “It's not overly common within the industry.”  It’s also not overly common within the industry to bottle liquids of this age and provenance with playful names such as "Blended at Birth", "Sunshine on Speyside" and "The Old Confectioner’s", in understated packaging at these price points.  The liquids are undeniably scarce (once they’re gone, there really is no more) and old (few are under 40 years of age, and the oldest tops 50 years), but they are undeniably unusual and at odds with the highly successful formulaic approach others have followed of encasing precious liquids in highly ornate, priceless vessels that weigh more than a small child.    “They're not concept releases,” Gibson explains. “Everything is driven by the whisky. The packaging is quite straightforward. It's a nice bottle and it's classically engraved but we haven’t collaborated with the hottest designer. The idea is really just to give the whisky room, provide a platform, without overshadowing it,” he adds.   “Over the past 10-15 years – and it's no bad thing at all – you can see a lot more old age-statement single malts coming onto the market,” Gibson says, “And typically they're very straightforward in terms of their naming. It's distillery name, plus age statement equals a certain financial value.  “The naming of these releases is slightly playful, but actually if you look at them one by one, they're very straightforward. It's not quite a Ronseal, ‘it does exactly what it says on the tin’ approach, but it's not too far away from that. If you said ‘Blended at Birth’, it could be seen as quite playful but it's also quite descriptive and the same for ‘The First Drop’ and ‘Sunshine on Speyside’,” he explains.   It's clear Gibson, who has been involved in the project since the start, has genuine affection for the whiskies and the stories each one has to tell. He and the team are custodians of historical artefacts that the Gordon family have not parted with for the best part of a century.  “The First Drop”, for example, is named as such because it is the first liquid to run from the stills at the Gordon family’s Girvan grain distillery on Christmas day in 1964. This is the first and last time it can be purchased. “There's a real emotional tie from the family to these whiskies,” Gibson explains. “For the current family members, it's their dad who laid down these whiskies and he's not around anymore.  “I think it's actually quite difficult for the family to let some of these whiskies go, even though there's a begrudging acceptance that they can't drink such quantities and it was time they cut the cord and let these whiskies go out into the world.”  “There's a general principle that we're following where the whisky is ready to go when it's ready,” Gibson explains, “so we're not chasing down a 60-year-old age statement just so that we can put a big 60 on the bottle.”   It has been a pleasant surprise for all those involved to witness the reception the House of Hazelwood whiskies have received from an occasionally prickly and vocal audience.    “Sunshine on Speyside had an amazing response and it's one of the least expensive whiskies within our range,” Gibson says delightedly.   “It was selected because of its character and its flavour, and named because it has this amazing mango/ pineapple popsicle fruit character that transports you to sunshine and the Caribbean. It's one of those ones where everyone instantly agreed that it had to go into the first collection.   “I thought that everyone would be drawn to the oldest whisky at tastings but actually, this whisky captured the imagination of a lot of the writers and the trade.”   It’s hard to emphasise quite how unusual these whiskies are, as most releases – old or new – are described in hyperbolic terms.   “Blended at Birth”, which was released as part of the first collection, is a blend of malt and grain whisky that was married and matured as new-make spirit. Today, it is against the Scotch Whisky Regulations’ technical file to produce a whisky in this way, as you now have to age the malt and grain whisky components for a minimum of three years separately before blending them, so any liquids of this ilk on the market are painfully scarce.   “Unusual” and “esoteric” aren’t always necessarily loaded with positive connotations – you might take a sip of said liquid, politely smile and then return to something slightly less unusual and more palatable – but these whiskies have incredible balance and depth of flavour, in part because they are blends and not single malt whiskies.    “These old grains in particular are just unbelievable in terms of the flavour,” Gibson says with unfettered joy. “At a younger age, grain whisky is quite neutral in character but once you're past 30 years, if it's aged well, grain whisky has a luscious, delicious quality which adds so much to the final profile of the Scotch.    “The variation in style is enormous,” he continues. “I thought I understood old grain whisky but on exploring the inventory further you see these amazing grains that you didn't really know you could get.”   These whiskies wouldn’t have existed if it wasn’t for the foresight of the Gordon family  – and two brothers, in particular, who changed the company’s stars during the mid-20th century. The young Charles and Sandy Gordon brought much-needed vim and vigour to what could be a bit of a staid industry in the late 1950s. The pair famously refused to kowtow to demands from their grain whisky supplier – instead pulling the contract and setting up their own grain distillery, Girvan, in the 1960s. Charles – or Charlie as he was known – even forwent the comfort of his own home and instead lived in a caravan on-site during the build, riding a bicycle to stealthily check on the workers’ progress. His unconventional methods clearly paid off as the sizeable distillery (which still stands today) was built in a record nine-month period.  During their tenure, the duo also interrogated every aspect of whisky-making from distillation to maturation, resulting in the bold decision to employ an on-site coppersmith and cooper – which are still in situ at many of the William Grant distilleries today – to give the family more control. They were a formidable pair and the business arguably wouldn’t have survived some of the challenging periods in Scotch whisky’s history had it not been for their fortitude.     “There's something about family ownership that means you have a bit more luxury to maybe indulge some of your creative whims,” Gibson says with a wry smile. “This independence enabled them to explore ideas that might have been hard for others to justify to their board of shareholders.”  When other producers would have been forced to make very difficult decisions in order to survive those darker years, the larger, independent William Grant would have been slightly more insulated. Out of curiosity alone, they would have been able to hold on to barrels of maturing liquid and see how they developed over time.  These are the barrels that the House of Hazelwood team – and by extension us – now have access to. Each one has an incredible story – and an even better depth of flavour. With eight releases each year as a minimum – and the suggestion of some partnership releases to come as well – there is an audience, who count the great and the good among their numbers, desperate to venture into this unexplored and curious realm of blended Scotch whisky.  Read more Editorial and browse all whisky 

Few Scotch whisky releases have incited as much fervour and intrigue as the House of Hazelwood’s independent bottlings from the Grant family’s private cask library. Holly Motion caught up with Jonathan Gibson to discover why this emporium of curiosities is so tantalisingly unusual

Exploring the success of the independent bottlings from the Gordon family’s extraordinary private collection

The story behind the House of Hazelwood

House of Hazelwood: selling the family jewels

Serge Valentin has been one of the few truly independent voices in the Scotch whisky world since the early 2000s. For two decades and counting, the Alsace-native has published his tasting notes and scores to an astoundingly large and loyal audience with his characteristically good humour and impartiality in what can be a deafening echo chamber.   Despite being one of the most well-respected authorities in the industry, Valentin has always written about whisky in his spare time, very much considering it a pastime that he dabbles in for fun. This is somewhat of a surprise, given the many people who part with thousands of pounds based on his views alone.  “Contrary to what many believe, I’ve never been a pro and have never actually worked in whisky,” the jaunty Valentin is quick to tell me. “It is all a kind of super-hobby to me and if you ever see me doing gigs, for example at whisky festivals, it is always for free, for fun and for friends.”   Valentin’s “proper work”, as he calls it, is in advertising and marketing, where he owns two agencies which employ around 2,000 people. These agencies, he says glibly, are “supposed to pay for my whiskies…luckily, they do”. It was a very different landscape when Valentin started writing about Scotch in 2002. Single malts had been marketed for 30-plus years but there wasn’t the seemingly insatiable demand and record-breaking prices that are commonplace today. It all began when Valentin, armed with bottles of his favourite Old Clynelish and Brora, sat down and shared his musings on his aptly named website WhiskyFun. This wasn’t a vanity project or a vehicle for freebies, this was a man writing about the whiskies he loved, just because he wanted to. From humble beginnings, WhiskyFun has become one of the most well-respected hubs for commentary on Scotch. Valentin follows a 100-point scoring system, like some of the great critics in the world of wine. For Valentin, however, 80/100 is a good score. His methodology is largely unchanged. He will spend an average of 30 minutes tasting a whisky (he does, on occasion, score rums and other spirits) – this can increase up to an hour if it’s a “good one” and take nearer 10 minutes if it is a “bad one”. He always compares several similar spirits, almost always from the same distillery, and never scores “out of the blue”. He tastes “alone, using the same parameters” (place, time of day, glassware, water etc.) and always writes as he tries, and then publishes once a day.  His write-ups are always short, honest, and unmistakably him. After all these years, it’s dumbfounding that he has the time or inclination to produce the near-constant stream of reviews that appear on his website.    It’s fascinating to see which liquids he scores – and, sometimes more intriguingly, the ones he doesn’t. “The choices rather depend on what I get and what I source, but my sample library is much larger than my tasting capacity,” he explains.   This all started as a passion project for Valentin and it’s abundantly clear that that fire burns just as bright today. He never takes himself too seriously and is evidently ill at ease with any comparison between himself and the greatly respected critics in the world of wine.    This is, in part, because the role of a critic in spirits is nowhere near as established as it is in wine. There are leading voices in the Scotch whisky world who undoubtedly carry considerable clout, but they aren’t critics in the traditional sense. While they might be prolific in their output and have seemingly healthy book retainers, they rarely score spirits and if they do, their tasting notes will be almost entirely positive (often because they are in a producer’s employ). The closest the spirits world has to a Robert Parker or Jancis Robinson MW is probably Valentin – although, he wouldn’t agree.   “I would say the roles are more and more the same in wine and spirits,” Valentin says, “even if there are fewer actual ‘critics’ in spirits. But it is coming in whisky.”  Valentin does feel there is a need for scores in collectable spirits, as – like wine – there isn’t always the opportunity for people to try before they buy. But the issue is not black and white, as is true of many things Valentin and I discuss.   “I see that scores [in whisky] become more like stock market recommendations these days,” he says.“I’m not too happy about that but that wouldn’t be the case if spirits, especially whisky, had remained a reasonably priced commodity,” he says, before adding: “But the cardinal sins are what they are.” It’s clear whisky drinkers respect Valentin’s voice, as they flock to his site in droves. What’s less clear, however – as an outsider looking in – is how producers feel about Valentin’s refusal to kowtow and sugar-coat his reviews.  “Producers have never quite known how to deal with independent voices,” he explains. “In general, they prefer influencers that they can pay and control, even if their audiences are smaller and less ‘on target’,” he adds, “for which I can’t blame them. Fortunately,” he continues, “not all distillers are the same. Some corporations are smarter than others and that often depends on the people within.”   When asked why he thinks people return to his site, which doesn’t have any of the bells and whistles you might expect from an ad man and is as no-frills today as it was two decades ago, Valentin says, as self-deprecatingly as ever: “I’m not really aware of everything that’s happening in the reviewing landscape, I have to say. If indeed people keep coming back to my assessment, that’s partly, I believe, because I started early and simply because they trust me. Trust is number one.”   In many ways, Valentin’s website is a collection. It’s a receptacle for his innermost thoughts and feelings about the things that matter most to him. Valentin has always been collector at heart. With an interest in stamps from childhood, he then graduated onto watches, wine and then whisky. The father of three has a broad and eclectic range of interests, including music (“all kinds”), advertising, motorcycling, wine, watches, food and travel which he has nurtured and indulged. Throughout the years, Valentin has had a front-row seat to the evolutions within these industries and the so-called art of collecting.   “Old-school collectors used to buy what they liked, never what was meant to see its value rise,” he says. “In the old days, you had to travel, to make phone calls, to go to festivals etc. Today,” he says somewhat ruefully, “you can buy anything, as long as you’ve got the money.” Valentin was ahead of the curve when he made the choice many years ago to buy as many different Old Clynelish and Brora single malts as he could, simply because they were his favourites. At the time, and up until 2005 to 2010, all whiskies – even the rarest – remained relatively cheap. After 2010, it was silly season and whiskies you could previously source were nigh on impossible to find or prohibitively expensive for some.  Valentin’s favourite whiskies have become some of the most desirable on the secondary market. Old Clynelish, produced before the distillery was rechristened Brora, have gained a huge following globally as people were charmed by the story and the characterful liquid the two distilleries produced. Now Brora is set to be re-opened, these single malts will only become more valuable. While his collection is no-doubt impressive – exact bottlings are not disclosed – there are some unicorns which still elude Valentin.   “Rather bizarrely and inexplicably, I prefer fatter spirits and fresher wines,” Valentin says, “in both cases with as little straight oak influence as possible. So, fat distillates, such as some coastal malts, some Jamaican rums etc. In wine, that would be the bright whites, Jura, Savoie, Rueda, Pacherenc, Irouleguy, Alsace, Wachau and Andalusia.”    “I know oak is crucial,” he adds, “you just shouldn’t feel it as such, according to my personal taste. But I insist, that’s personal.” Oak is a topic Valentin returns to several times. He feels it is the low-hanging fruit when it comes to innovation in the Scotch whisky industry.   “Sure, there are a few innovations around the casks,” he says, “but all makers use more or less the same.” The woods used are usually more active, which allows producers to sell much younger whisky for a good price while widening the ranges at the same time, he says.   “I’m not saying that’s bad,” he quickly adds, “but not many people are talking about the distilling regimes, the stills and so on, which was the number one topic 20 years ago.” He continues: “It is now all about wood. But, when we talk about wood that includes their flavouring with other spirits, wines, or even whiskies from other distilleries such as some peated ones, which is the latest trend, to peat single malts by doing some in-cask blending rather than bother with brewing and distilling some peated malt. “So, cutting corners for sure but on the other hand, I believe the average quality has risen pretty sharply. So, all remains good and well…”  This seems to be Valentin’s baseline. The whisky world might have changed but he believes it is the same at its core. There is an increase in branding and marketing (which is likely a source of joy and consternation for an ad man), there are more malts, and for the past five or six years, more distilleries from almost all countries.   “I’m not bored yet,” he says in his frank way, “and in general, whisky has got better on average, even if there are fewer utter glories and fewer total duds.”  If a man with Valentin’s reputation of no-holds-barred honesty is broadly happy, then we probably all should be too.   Browse all Scotch whisky  or  read more Editorial 

Serge Valentin is one of the most well-respected people in the fine spirits world. For decades, whisky enthusiasts have parted with thousands of pounds based on his reviews alone. Holly Motion asks him how it all began – and how the industry has evolved since he started writing about whisky for fun

Serge Valentin on the art of collecting, the role of the critic, and the changes he’s witnessed in the Scotch whisky industry over the past 20 years

Serge Valentin – the Joker in the pack

Serge Valentin: the Joker in the pack

There are myriad fascinating twists and turns in Scotch whisky’s long and storied past. From dizzying boom times to disastrous downturns, the distilling landscape – and the major players within it – has been redrawn countless times. 
There's one era, however, that is legendary – whisky's "golden age". Between the 1950s and '80s, some of the industry's most nuanced single malts were crafted. These are now widely regarded as the greatest ever released, which is reflected in the eyewatering secondary market prices – should they ever appear on the auction block. 
These perfectly imperfect, characterful and wonderfully unique liquids, produced at distilleries that no longer exist, or exist in a very different way today, will never be bottled again – making them real unicorns for whisky collectors. 
To understand what makes them so special, it is important to first appreciate just how little liquid exists from this time. The single malt whisky market was unfathomably small before and during this period and entirely dwarfed by blends. A mere fraction of a distiller’s finest liquid would be bottled as a single malt. These minuscule quantities were also made via practices that are now lost in the annals of history, making them more desirable for collectors. 
For context, Scotch whisky was largely made as it always had been until the 1950s, drawing on traditional methods that had been passed down for centuries. Distillers would use their sight, smell and taste to determine when a liquid was ready to cask, and later, bottle. Whisky-making took mastery and patience – something producers could ill afford when demands on the industry intensified and there was a concerted push to produce more for less during the 1970s. While many producers made these changes around the same time, they didn’t all happen at once, creating a wonderfully varied time capsule of whiskies. 
The 1960s – when some of these great bottlings were produced – was sandwiched in between two vastly different decades. Production in the ‘50s was steady but small. By the 1970s, however, distillers – both large and small – were forced to increase their output by almost double, and names that had fallen silent were reawakened once more as global demand for Scotch whisky grew. 
Sadly, by the mid-1970s, the tide started to turn. The bountiful supply of whisky was not met by demand, resulting in a devastating whisky loch in the 1980s and some of the most difficult years the Scotch whisky industry has ever endured. Swathes of distilleries were forced to close, including the now-legendary Port Ellen and Brora – both of which shut their doors in 1983. This depression continued well into the 1990s with a further 20 casualties (of these, only three ever reopened), before the pendulum finally swung back in the early 2000s when the seemingly unquenchable thirst for single malt whiskies, that is still in full force today, began. 
From the 1950s onwards, holders of the increasingly frayed purse strings sought to reduce inefficiencies in the traditional, labour-intensive practice of whisky-making – which defined the golden age. With the introduction of modern, more mechanised, safer processes, it was a new dawn for Scotch whisky.  During this period in history, every single stage of whisky production was “streamlined”. The money men closed floor maltings, introduced distillers’ yeast, reduced fermentation times, installed semi-lauter tuns, made the switch to indirect-fired stills, replaced worm tubs with shell-and-tube condensers, and introduced ex-Bourbon barrels. By the end of the 1970s, you could almost count on one hand the number of distillers who retained traditional methods. 
It’s important to remember that tweaking one of these processes can alter the entire flavour profile of a whisky – just ask Glenfarclas who reverted back to direct-firing their stills after their new-make spirit lost its characteristically heavy and oily profile during their ill-fated flirtation with steam in 1981. And yet, in many instances, producers permanently changed many of these processes. Traditional practices and know-how that varied slightly at every distillery began to be outsourced as they turned to professional maltsters and installed modern, industrial-scale equipment that increased efficiencies and consistency but in some cases compromised the craft and character of the final spirit profile. 
“Every distillery has its own story and evolution of style,” whisky authority Serge Valentin explains, “their own ups and its downs.” 
Valentin was ahead of his time when he started collecting single malt Scotch, almost exclusively from Old Clynelish and Brora. He couldn’t possibly have predicted what his passion project of buying as many different bottlings as he could “simply because they were [his] favourites”  would become. 
Both Clynelish and Brora – as it would be known – produced heavily peated malt during the late 1960s and early ’70s. Bottlings from this time until 1983, when Brora became a victim of the whisky loch and fell silent, have become highly collectable in recent years. Old Clynelish bottlings, (Valentin’s favourites), which are robustly distinctive with aromas of scented wax and heather, are astonishingly rare and modern collectors clamber over one another to get their hands on these golden-age gems for many times the price Valentin would have paid. 
Stephen Rankin has been fortunate to sample whiskies from one of the most remarkable single malt libraries in the world at Gordon & MacPhail. His team is able to pull out liquids from what he calls “pre-evolutions within distilleries” thanks to his family’s foresight to buy barrels from cash-strapped producers who were selling their stocks for survival. The Elgin-based independent bottler had the luxury and fortitude to bide their time and store casks that would otherwise have been bottled young or blended. He has a particular affection for single malts from what was Milton Distillery, known since 1951 as Strathisla, which he describes as a “great example of a whisky that has the flavours of this past era.” 
Independent bottlers like Gordon & MacPhail played a vital role in bringing many of these now-legendary whiskies into the world. One man in particular, Silvano Samaroli, was responsible for bottling single malts that are now widely regarded as some of the greatest ever released.  
Rome-based Samaroli released his first Scotch whisky series in 1968 in the form of the now-iconic, dumpy Cadenhead bottlings – making him the first independent Scotch whisky bottler outside the United Kingdom. Today, Samaroli’s Bowmore, Glen Garioch, and  Springbank releases are held in especially high regard and his  Laphroaig single malts from 1967 and 1970 are in a league of their own. 
“The late 1960s to the ’80s is definitely one of the most remarkable periods,” Samaroli’s Daniele Liberati says, “largely due to the appearance of certain expressions for the first time.”  
“We started to propose different bottlings, moving away from the classic blends and official distillery releases,” Liberati adds. These included single-cask expressions, numbered bottlings and cask-strength releases, all of which are commonplace today but were revolutionary at the time.
 
In recent years, a handful of new distillers have turned to old whisky-making practices in an attempt to recapture some of its magic. Fledgling Speyside distiller Dunphail, for instance, has faithfully – and at great cost – installed traditional floor maltings, direct-fired stills and wooden, open washbacks where fermentation times are considerably longer than the industry average, to produce a fruit-forward, oily, medium-bodied Speyside whisky. Today, however, these traditional methods are always adopted in conjunction with modern practices in order to achieve all the desirable characteristics of yore in a more efficient way.   While there is the temptation to look back on this era with a rose-tinted view, as there are undeniably some exceptional bottlings from this time, it is wrong to believe that all whisky produced in the golden age was of the same standard. Whisky-making 40 to 50 years ago was imperfect, there was very little consistency in quality and for one good cask, a distiller would likely have 10 or 20 bad ones that never saw the light of day.  It’s also important to appreciate that many of these modernisations were vital to guarantee the safety of distillery workers as several stages in production were unstable. These advancements have also resulted in unprecedented consistency. While nuance and singularity might have been sacrificed, it’s now incredibly hard to find a bad dram.   As times evolve – as they inevitably do – it’s highly unlikely whisky from Scotland’s golden age will ever not be considered precious.    Browse all Scotch whisky or read more Editorial

Some of the most exceptional single malts ever released were produced in an era affectionately known as “the golden age”. Bottlings from this time are painfully scarce and have gained near-mythic status among whisky enthusiasts. Holly Motion explores why whiskies from this age are so precious

Exploring the golden age of malt whisky and its most coveted bottlings that are widely considered some of the greatest single malts ever released.

The golden age of malt whisky

The golden age of whisky

For the last half-century, The Dalmore have been masters of their craft and created a luxury icon that has transcended spirits. The 12-pointed stag that graces every bottle of the Highland single malt is instantly recognisable and synonymous with quality.  But just how did this Scotch whisky distillery rise through the ranks and create a lasting legacy? How has The Dalmore become a luxury icon? The Dalmore has a long and enviable history dating back to 1839, filled with stories of valour, craftsmanship and larger-than-life characters. The single malt’s rich, chocolate, orange and subtle spice character is largely thanks to the distillery’s enviable partnership with famed Sherry bodega González Byass. This century-old relationship has ensured the distiller has maintained a steady supply of the finest Sherry casks at times when most Scotch producers were forced to mature their spirit in cheaper alternatives.   For more than 50 years, these casks have been presided over by one of the most famous faces (and noses) in Scotch whisky, Master Blender, Richard Paterson OBE. The statesman-like savant has pioneered cask maturation and produced rich, characterful whiskies that have commanded hundreds of thousands of pounds at auction. Among the many records to its name, The Dalmore was the first distiller to break the £100,000 mark for a single bottle in 2010 with its 64-year-old. In the years that have followed, The Dalmore has broken its own records numerous times.  The history of The Dalmore  The Dalmore distillery was founded by entrepreneur Sir Alexander Matheson in 1839. Matheson sold the distillery, located on the shores of the Cromarty Firth north of Inverness, to the three Mackenzie brothers in the late 1800s. The distillery stayed under family ownership for almost 100 years until it was bought by Glasgow-based Whyte & Mackay in 1960.   Whyte & Mackay quickly increased capacity from six stills to eight, and ceased malting barley on site on the 1980s.  Between 1990 and 2014, Whyte & Mackay pin balled between owners until Philippines-based brandy producer Emperador bought it for £430 million. Throughout the many changes in ownership, Master Blender Richard Paterson OBE has remained a constant.  Another constant is the iconic 12-pointed stag that adorns every bottle of Dalmore. This honour was bestowed upon the Mackenzie clan after Chief Coin of Kintail saved King Alexander III from certain death when a Highland stag charged at him.   The Dalmore – Gaelic for “large field” – has largely remained open throughout its history, only closing for a brief period during the First World War, when the Royal Navy took refuge on the grounds. When they moved on, the buildings required considerable work to repair damage from an explosion. Then-owner Mackenzie successfully took the Royal Navy to court to get compensation for the damage.  Before 2002, The Dalmore almost solely contributed to Whyte & Mackay blended malts and was not widely available beyond a 12 Year Old. Whyte & Mackay gradually started to increase the single malt range and within a few short years were shattering record prices at auction.   In 2022, plans were announced to expand the distillery and visitor centre. These included the demolition of a building that once held the distillery’s malting boxes to make way for a new production area. The Dalmore plans to install exact replicas of the existing eight wooden wash backs and four pairs of Loch Lomond stills. Once it is operational, circa 2024, the existing distillery will be closed and renovated. Rumour has it that this site will also be turned into a production facility bringing the Highland distiller’s annual capacity to nine million litres– such is the demand for Dalmore and single malt Scotch whisky more widely.  Richard Paterson OBE  It’s impossible to talk about The Dalmore without talking about their Master Blender of 50-plus years, Richard “the Nose” Paterson OBE. Over five decades, Paterson has built the global reputation of the single malt with his pioneering cask programme, unwavering quality ethos and million-pound nose. Paterson’s high-spirited presentations around the globe are legendary. It’s no exaggeration to say he hassingle-handedly converted hundreds and thousands of single malt disciples during his tenure for the distillery. But Paterson is far more than just a showman, his nose was at one point reportedly insured for £1.6 million – such are his olfactory talents and invaluable master blending skills.    Paterson started his whisky education at the tender age of eight when his father started teaching him how to nose spirits at their family specialist blending, bottling and brokerage company. At just 26 years old, the young Glaswegian landed the top whisky job of Master Blender at Whyte & Mackay – becoming the third generation in his family to hold this enviable title.   In 2020, at the age of 71, Paterson marked his 50th anniversary in the whisky industry. The same year, Paterson embarked on a world tour celebrating his tenure, promoting The Paterson Collection, which later sold for £1 million. Soon after, the Master Blender appointed former Compass Box Whisky Maker Gregg Glass as his successor and announced that he would be stepping back from day-to-day duties at Whyte & Mackay to focus on Dalmore.   The Dalmore distillery character   Arguably, the two biggest influences on The Dalmore’s iconic taste profile are the stills and the time spent in Sherry and wine casks.   For over a century, the Highland distillery has maintained a close relationship with famed Sherry bodega González Byass. This partnership has enabled The Dalmore to mature its new-make whisky in the finest Sherry casks when few others could afford to.    Typically, The Dalmore’s new-make spirit slumbers in ex-Bourbon casks for its initial maturation period before it is transferred into a Sherry or wine cask. Secondary maturation at The Dalmore is often longer than the industry average to ensure as much of the desired characteristics are imparted as possible.  For some of the distiller’s most coveted whiskies, The Dalmore has matured its whisky in butts that have previously held Matusalem Oloroso Sherry from González Byass – this is a type of award-winning Oloroso that has been aged for a minimum of 30 years, sweetened with approximately 25% Pedro Ximénez. The Dalmore continually pushes the envelope when it comes to secondary maturation, finishing its single malts in wine casks multiple times and even experimenting with casks that have previously held tequila, Calvados and Cognac. Dalmore’s coveted King Alexander III bottling was finished in a total of six different cask types: Port, Madeira, Marsala, Cabernet Sauvignon, Bourbon and Matusalem Oloroso Sherry.   The Dalmore’s new-make spirit is perfect for long maturation periods. Every stage of the production process is centred around quality – from the water source to the barley, to the production equipment, Dalmore insists on using the best materials possible.  Loch Morie, located 11 miles from the distillery, is The Dalmore’s pure water source that flows from the River Alness to its mouth just below Alness. The river runs close by the distillery and is notable for its typically Highland characteristics.  The Dalmore also sources its high-quality golden barley locally from the rich coastal soils of Ross and Cromarty.   Fermentation times at The Dalmore are slightly longer than the industry average at 50 hours. The current distillery set-up at The Dalmore is one of the most complicated in whisky production. The unique size and shape of the Loch Lomond stills enable the team to replicate the effect of shorter and longer still necks to increase or decrease the level of alcohol vapours that condense and return to the still for re-distillation, commonly referred to as reflux.   The Dalmore’s wash stills are unusual in that they have flat tops, which maximises reflux and copper contact. The Dalmore believes these two factors produce a more desirable malty, fruity and northern Highland spirit style with a robust body that is perfect for extended maturation. The spirit stills are also atypical because of their unique cooling jackets, which are the oldest pieces of equipment on site as they date back to 1874. The oldest stills at The Dalmore were installed at this time and the younger ones joined them in 1966. Currently, The Dalmore has four pairs of stills but this number is rumoured to be increasing in the next few years.   Despite its impressive output of circa 4.2 million litres annually, approximately only 5% of the distillery’s production is bottled as single malt. The vast majority of the whisky produced at the distillery is destined for Whyte & Mackay blends.   Dalmore single malts   The Dalmore’s core range, The Principal Collection, has expanded over the years and now includes a selection of age statement (12-, 15-, 18-, 21-year-old) and non-age statement (Port Wood Reserve, Sherry Cask Select, Cigar Malt Reserve, King Alexander III) whiskies. Dalmore also releases a smattering of highly anticipated and keenly sought-after distillery exclusives.   Some of the most collectable Dalmore bottlings   The Paterson Collection – The Paterson Collection is arguably the pinnacle of the modern era of whisky-making at The Dalmore and showcases esteemed Master Blender Richard Paterson’s lifetime’s work. The collection, launched to mark his 50th anniversary in the industry, comprises 12 remarkable single malts drawn from the Highland distiller’s impressive library, the oldest of which dates back to 1926. Four years after launch, The Dalmore Paterson Collection sold for £1 million.  Dalmore 62 Year Old – For a time, the Dalmore 62 Year Old held the title of the most expensive single malt ever sold.Only one dozen 62-year-old Dalmore single malts were released in 2002. The vatting of four casks filled in 1898, 1876, 1926 and 1939 fetched almost double its pre-sale estimate of £40,000-50,000 in 2017 and has only become more desirable since.   Dalmore 64 Trinitas – The Dalmore 64 Trinitas is one of the most special single malts ever bottled. After the unprecedented demand for the Dalmore 62, the distiller returned to its archive and unearthed something exceptional. The last remaining liquid from the blend which makes up the 62-year-old (from 1868, 1878, 1926 and 1939 vintages) was blended with liquid from the 1940s and left to slumber in a bespoke nine-litre cask seasoned with ultra-aged Dalmore and very old Matusalem Oloroso and a Pedro Ximénez from González Byass. Only three bottles of the Dalmore 64 Trinitas were ever released. Two sold for £100,000 in 2010 and the third sold for £120,000 in 2011.  Dalmore Constellation Collection – The Dalmore Constellation Collection isa highly collectable 21-bottle set of single-cask vintage whiskies spanning 1964 to 1992. Available individually, the younger vintages’ starting prices are £2,000; the entire collection carries an estimate of $275,000. It’s rare for a full set to become available but it has happened to much furore.   Dalmore Quintessence – The Dalmore Quintessence is one of the special single malts released to commemorate Master Blender Richard Paterson’s 50th anniversary in the whisky industry. After an initial maturation period in American oak, Dalmore Quintessence was finished in five different red wine casks (Zinfandel, Pinot Noir, Syrah, Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon) for five years before being married together – at the time, this was an industry first. The name Quintessence was chosen because it means fifth element.   Dalmore L’Anima – Dalmore is no stranger to collaborating with industry legends. The Dalmore L’Anima is the result of a partnership between Richard Paterson OBE and Michelin-starred chef Massimo Bottura. The rare, 49-year-old single malt is a marriage of three rare casks which previously housed Graham’s vintage Port pipes, 40-year-old González Byass Pedro Ximénez and small-batch Bourbon barrels. The single bottle of L’Anima– which means “soul” in Italian – sold for £108,900 at an online charity auction in early 2019.  Dalmore Decades – The Dalmore Decades are multiple-bottle collections of some of the oldest whiskies ever released by the Highland distillery.   Twenty-five sets of four bottlings from 1979, 1980, 1995 and 2000 form the Dalmore No 4 Collection, which carries a recommended sale price of £100,000.   Only 15 sets exist of the Dalmore No 5 Collection, which includes expressions from 1967, 1979, 1980, 1995 and 2000 – this comes with a recommended price of £200,000.  Dalmore No 6 is currently the most expensive collection in the Dalmore Decades series. The six-bottle set with vintages from 1951, 1967, 1979, 1980, 1995 and 2000 sold for $US1.1 million.   The Luminary Series – The Dalmore Luminary Series is a collaboration between four individuals who are at the top of their respective field: Richard Paterson, world-renowned architect Kengo Kuma, Gregg Glass and Maurizio Mucciola.  The first release in the duo is The Rare, an extremely limited 48-year-old single malt; the second is the more accessible 15-year-old expression, The Collectible.   The Luminary Series, introduced in 2022, is the first time The Dalmore has released two special liquids at stratospherically different price points (circa $100,000 for The Rare and $245 for The Collectible). A mere three decanters of The Rare exist which was created by Paterson and Kuma. The Collectible which was finished in ex-Amarone casks and Kintsugi casks – built from staves of mizunara and Scottish oak from The Dalmore estate – is the brain chid of Paterson and Kuma protégés, Gregg Glass and Maurizio Mucciola.  Browse The Dalmore whiskies and all whisky listings 

The Dalmore is one of the most revered Scotch whisky distillers in the world, famed for producing some of the most expensive single malt whiskies ever sold. But what is it that makes this Highland producer such a collectors’ darling? Holly Motion investigates 

Exploring how The Dalmore has become one of the most collectable names in Scotch famed for producing some of the most expensive single malt whiskies ever sold

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