Johnnie Walker Red Label (c.1966)

When I said I was going to review Johnnie Walker Red for my 500th tasting note, I neglected to mention that the bottle in question dates from the late ‘60s or early ‘70s. I don’t know if the numbers at the start of the tax strip reading 61966 imply a date, but if they do then it was bottled two months before I was born. Anecdotal evidence from my girlfriend’s father — who gladly let me take this bottle and several other vintage spirits from his garage — also suggests it’s from around that year. Dusties are always fun but in my experience disappoint more often than not. Evaporation, stopper degradation and unrealistic expectations that whisky was always better in the old days frequently combine to leave you underwhelmed. And then sometimes you strike gold. As soon as I removed the perfectly functioning screw-top from this fully filled bottle, a waft of beautiful sherry flavors rushed for freedom. Rich, creamy toffee, with just a hint of smoke. Sherry casks are a luxury nowadays, but when this whisky was blended they were often the default for the industry. Still, I was not expecting the aroma to be so beautiful. It brought to mind nothing less than a 26-year-old Glenrothes I hand bottled from a single sherry cask at the Whisky Exchange last year. I’m not a fan of heavily sherried whiskies, but when they’re dialed down to the caramel zone of that Glenrothes and this Johnnie Walker then I’m in heaven. So the nose was amazing, but surely that was just a fluke. This is Red Label after all - it had to be largely grain whisky, even back then, and there would be no hiding that once the whisky was in my mouth. Color me confounded. Maybe they had run out of grain that month, but for some reason this drinks almost as well as that Glenrothes. The creamy toffee and smoke of the nose continue in the mouth and the 43.4% ABV delivers a luscious, oily texture. I’ve spent three nights searching this whisky for off notes and the best I can come up with is a hint of something sharp in the middle and a finish that comes up a little short. And it’s not particularly complex - one sip tastes pretty much the same as the next. But really I’m struggling to find anything bad to say about it. This is pure drinking pleasure. In fact, I’m left with the conclusion that this is a fake: someone has refilled an old Red Label bottle with expensive whisky. Dusty hunters, beware.