I've been out of the loop for more than a few years. Had some life experiences, quit physics to become a model, and started working in my favorite liquor store as a day job. What better opportunity to celebrate the blessings of Freya than with an employee discounted bottle of my personal house whisky that I haven't touched in as long as I've been in hiatus. A decade ago it was the second bottle I ever purchased (after Glenmorangie) and it's duality, themes, and ability to multiclass resonated with me. I was surprised to see how they dropped all the bells and whistles in its marketing, and finally let it speak for itself with its own personality; something it already has it spades. The nose opens with an orange juice oatmeal breakfast on an Autumn day. On the palate, a kiss of peat greets you then takes you by the hand down a corridor you’d expect to be a little sweeter. It is, but then the golden honey skin melts away to expose the ancient volcanic ash creating the flickers of smoke on the surface. It lies dormant, with a floral protector. The finish rhymes with the start: Any residual sweetness is surrounded by grit. This is much darker HP than I remember from 9 years ago. Through repeated sips the Highland honey builds and emerges through the cocoon. Upon finishing, everything is back to perfect balance and you learn a lot in the process. It's a heroic journey full of romance and death in a glass. The bottle and labeling might have become simpler, but HP remains viking fanfiction through and through.