Glendronach whisky sadness; cork infestation; soft corks; haste bitch

My taxi to the airport was waiting outside while I ran up to get my suitcase. Being one heck of a day, I decided to take a swig of some decent whisky to provide temporary soothing and just because, well, I could.

Ignoring the six already open bottles of whisky, I decided that I just must try one of the unopened ones – a Glendronach 18 year old single malt, matured in sherry casks. I don’t mind a bit of sherry, so I was quite excited by the thought of my first sherrified single malt.

Anyway, so I rip off the top cover (there must be a more appropriate word for that) to be presented with a cork. No worries, it was a lifty cork so no corkscrewing required. With taxi waiting downstairs, I had to be quick.

As we know, haste makes waste.

In my rush to taste the sherry whisky goodness, I pulled the cork out at an angle and snapped the bastard in half (it was a softended cork that had obviously been weakened by splashes of whisky during transport).

Damn soft corks! (hee hee)

Anyway, in a rush I was, so after taking a swig (couldn’t leave without doing so) and absolutely loving it, I put the half-cork back on the bottle and duly exited the building.

To my horror, when I returned three weeks later and poured a small amount of the Glendronach for my drinking pleasure, it REEKED. Something along the lines of the cork going off, had completely ruined the whisky. It stank to high hell. I filtered the whisky out into a glass container in the hope that somehow, magically, it could be restored to its former glory. I don’t know what the cork had done in my three weeks away, but it wasn’t nice. Next time I’ll filter the whisky straight away and remove the cork from the bottle, like so: (I love the guy’s accent…)

For now, I have to bring myself to the point of acceptance that this fine whisky will be forever undrinkable due to my haste and lack of remedial action, and pour it down the sink.

If you want to make me feel better, buy me this: