The 18 Year Old is, by common consent among those who care about such things, the point at which Glenfarclas's house style settles into its full and proper shape. Eighteen winters in oloroso casks beneath the slopes of Ben Rinnes does for this spirit what the same period rarely does elsewhere, and at a price that has remained, for years, conspicuously below what equivalent bottlings from neighbouring distilleries command.
That is partly a matter of family economics. Glenfarclas, still owned by the Grants after six generations, has never had to satisfy distant shareholders, and its long-standing relationships with Spanish bodegas allow it to source oloroso butts of a quality and quantity that would now be ruinous to assemble from scratch. The warehouses are stacked high with stock that was laid down when sherry casks were still cheap, and the bottlings reflect that patience.
The whisky itself is unhurried. The fuller new-make from those large, direct-fired stills carries the cask weight comfortably, and at eighteen years there is depth without the dryness that sometimes steals into older sherried whiskies. It is a whisky that rewards a quiet evening rather than a noisy one.
The wider trade has tried, periodically, to coax Glenfarclas into pricing the 18 Year Old at what the market would bear. To their lasting credit, they have so far declined.
