Highland Park 1990 GW Private Collection

Category	SINGLE MALT
Distillery	Highland Park
Bottler	Getränke-Weiser (GW)
Bottling Series	-
Vintage	1990
Bottled Year	2006
Age	16년
Cask Type	Bourbon Casks
Cask Number	-
Bottles Released	-
ABV	46.0%
Volume	700 ml
Label	-
Country	Scotland
Region	Islands

Flavor Profile

Vanilla

Sweet

Oaky

Honey

Fruity

Creamy

Dried Fruit

Spicy

Citrus

Smoky

Chocolate

Herbal

Floral

Nutty

Peaty

Maritime

Tasting Notes

Colour

amber/mahogany

air Nose

oh, what a beautiful old ‘sherry monster’. Everything is of the highest class: dried fruits, jams, chocolate, coffee, raisins, dried herbs, herbal teas, meatiness, camphor, mint, tar... Oh well... And what a great liquorice, earthiness (humus, mushrooms...). Just superb. Oh, and there’s also our beloved lovage!

restaurant Palate

well, this one unfolds in two steps. First step is beautiful, dry, classical, mushroomy again, with a more than beautiful and complex ‘sherryness’. But then it gets a little too dry for my tastes, slightly bitterish (heavy walnut liqueur, very bitter almonds) and maybe simply too woody, with quite some tannins. Some aficionados may well like this and I won’t argue, but I feel it’s a little too much, especially with the still heavy alcohol pushing the whole to the front. It’s really for big boys, this one! But the nose and the first part of the palate were absolutely brilliant, hence my 87 points . Okay, still less than 10 of these Family Casks tasted so far, I guess it’ll take us quite some time until we manage to complete the series... Maybe nine or ten years? Stay tuned! ;-) MUSIC – Recommended listening: do you remember Gentle Giant and their very elaborated and refined ‘jazz progrock’? Let’s have their Schooldays.mp3 today and then buy their music... October 23, 2007 CONCERT REVIEW by Nick Morgan JIM WHITE The Luminaire, Kilburn, London, October 19th 2007 First of all I should apologise, particularly to the man in the red shirt. I was ducking and diving through the crowd with a couple of glasses of beer when much to my surprise I found myself almost at the front of the audience just right of centre - and there’s no way back. Ok for the diminutive Photographer, but not so good for your six foot tall reviewer. Not before too long the overwrought red-shirt (a North American as it happened) indicated rightly that he thought my behaviour a little inconsiderate. Whilst trying to explain my predicament and sooth his agitation I stepped down to the first of two steps that led to the stage front. There I fell foul of the farting and foul-smelling Sapphic ogres, who had formed an unlikely cordon at the front, more intimidating than the famous line of Hell’s Angels at Altamont back in ’69. I’d noticed them at the door, each one menacingly chewing at a jar of pickled onions

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