The last drops of 3D3 Bruichladdich, it will be missed!

There comes a time, when a bottle dries out. There is but a limited number of drams inside on, the decanter of endless drams is yet waiting for it’s discovery. Some bottles may be in reserve, waiting in deep hidden basement rooms but eventually the day comes, when hands looking for the reserve’s reserve come out empty and sad. It is time for the last drops.
I’ve always been fond of Bruichladdich’s 3D3. The only regret I do have now, is that I didn’t get yet another one or two bottles to be my reserve’s reserve. The well has dried out now. The bottling is called “the Norrie Campbell tribute” but that is a side trip. 3D3 combines three different kinds of Bruichladdich malts: normal, Port Charlotte and Octomore. There are fruits and details, then there are peat and even more peat. It also combined three different vintages. And it’s metal box has fiery hot coals in it!
Bottled at 46%, this is a usual Laddie serving. Ready for tasting, no need to add water for most of the folks, yet enough slam to make the tastes strong enough.

Grand Opera

The nose has lots of peat in it. And some smoke too. But the malts, there are characteristics like in Port Charlotte An Turas Mor and PC8. Also there are soft tones Octomore present, which will roam towards your nostrils like a sandstorm in heat.. but a safe distance away. This is a play you can enjoy, sit and watch without ever fearing those swords scratching you. The music and opera will surround you, draw your full attention and get you into the new world. And yet you where you are. It is a dram dream.

The taste serves a chore and a baritone solo. It starts soft, and gains power and eventually the hall will fight to keep the notes inside. It comes out like a tidal wave, majestic and powerful. Smokiness and peat control the tune but the fruits will insert their little focal points that break the rhythm. There is a complex chaos, that clicks in and you know you can enjoy the strong tale with a sad ending.

The aftermath

The dramatic climax occurs and music blasts once more with it’s full strength. You wake up from a trance and applause for the performance. Encore, is shout and served. Every moment of the last, long, fading end is full of enjoyment and peatfire. It does get “points” for the mood, for the background and the story. I want to hold on to these as long as possible.

This time there is no encore. This piece of play is here for the last time. All good things must end, even this dram, to make room for new endeavors.