James Fleming's distillery at Aberlour was rebuilt by Charles Doig in 1898 after a fire, and much of what stands today owes its shape to that reconstruction. The water comes from the Lour burn, and the stills — modest in size — favour copper contact and a rich, oily new make spirit that takes well to long maturation in sherry wood.
At twenty-five years, this is a whisky drawn from a small parcel of old casks. The expression has appeared only intermittently from the distillery and is bottled at 43%, in keeping with Aberlour's house presentation for its older statements.
The nose is unmistakably old Speyside — polished oak, dark fruitcake, beeswax and fig, with a dusting of cocoa powder rising as it sits. There is no sharpness here; the alcohol has long since folded into the wood. The palate is dense and slow: stewed plum, raisin, dark chocolate, toasted almond and a leathery undertow that speaks of the sherry casks. The finish runs very long, drying through bitter chocolate and resinous oak.
It is, inevitably, a whisky shaped as much by the wood as by the spirit, and those who prefer a fresher Speyside character will find it heavy going. But for drinkers who enjoy the weight and gravitas of old sherry-matured malt, the Aberlour 25 is an honest example of the style — unflashy, deeply integrated, and content to take its time.
