I decided to take the Compass Box phenomenological challenge. In addition to their incredible ability to craft new spirits, I have also been intrigued with this company’s level of creativity in design and marketing. They chose “Phenomenology” as this new product‘s name, and the eponym is based on the study of human consciousness and the subjective experience. Their website encourages people to “experience this whisky without preconception and to first describe the ‘phenomena’ of the liquid for themselves, in their own words and ideas.” Around mid December Compass Box will release the actual recipe, but they do concede the creation to be a blended malt consisting of 5 ingredients. The first 2 components make up 72% and 24.5% of total liquid volume, while the remaining 3 parts only account for the final 3.5%. In the glass, the spirit is an ideal gold in color. Testing the legs proves comical because the wave of liquid on the side of the glass refuses to separate and do its job. Finally forming and starting their descent, the threads suddenly come to an abrupt halt in a seeming demonstration of union solidarity. Losing patience, I moved to the nose, and a splendid nose it turned out to be. The first alcoholic whiff of the 46% ABV fluid showed hints of solvent or turpentine. This auspicious beginning had me thinking old wood and/or old spirit. Digging deeper was an absolute pleasure with thick waves of honeyed vanilla followed by a sudden gush of heavy apple and lemon citrus. Now, I’m not usually one to empty out the spice cabinet, but I also found distinct elements of candle wax, bubble gum, and antique wood surrounding a floral bouquet. At this juncture, the concoction already gave me a good clue as to its primary ingredient. Moving to the palate was a continuation of joy. With viscosity matching its legs, it moved across the tongue with the smoothness of silk. In the spirit of Thanksgiving, grapenut custard ice cream on Mom’s apple pie were the themes for this course. Before leaving the dessert table, I also left a little room for lemon cake with almonds. As anticipated, the finish was slightly briny, waxy (Clynelish), and immensely satisfying. The addition of water to this dram would be sacrilegious, but at the risk of death by lightning bolt, I did add a drop to see it haze. I’m going to guess the primary constituent of this whisky to be Clynelish. It’s deeper gold than Clynelish 14yo, and eerily similar to CB 3 Year Old Deluxe (90% Clynelish 24yo), so based on this and other factors, I surmise the Clynelish piece to be approximately 20 years old. Finally, there is a sherry aspect to this expression that could also be attributed to Clynelish (speculative), or one of its other brethren. Now, I’m no phenomenologist, but phenomenologically speaking, this whisky is phenomenal and I rate at 5 stars.