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Dom Pérignon – Champagne PLÉNITUDE 2

Dom Pérignon – Champagne PLÉNITUDE 2


Plénitude 2 es la segunda vida de una añada Dom Pérignon, sublimada pacientemente y con rumbo hacia la eternidad. Tras cerca de 15 años de lenta transformación en las bodegas, Dom Pérignon expande su energía y se eleva a un paroxismo de vitalidad esencial y radiante, en su estado de Plénitude. Elevada a nuevas alturas, se despliega en todas las dimensiones: más amplia, más profunda, más larga, más intensa y dotada de mayor longevidad.


El 2003 siempre será el año que marcó la memoria de la Champagne. Un verano abrasador obligó a realizar la cosecha más temprana desde 1822, lo que llevó a Dom Pérignon a interpretar este año único con un enfoque inspirado en la intuición y en las decisiones con visión de futuro.

Dom Pérignon Vintage 2003 Plénitude 2 ofrece una relectura de la historia y una segunda vida del Vintage 2003, revelando una insolente frescura. La corriente envolvente se magnifica, convirtiéndose en un flagrante abrazo.


De la suavidad floral del limonero emerge la mineralidad gris, tostada y cenicienta tan típica de Dom Pérignon. Aparece un sabor a fruta seca —albaricoque— y, más adelante, el carácter afrutado y confitado de la frambuesa y el higo.
Inesperadamente, la frescura de la hierbaluisa, la pimienta blanca y el romero se eleva por un instante, antes de sumergirse en la oscuridad de las especias y el regaliz.


Este es un vino físico. Llama y atrae, más táctil y vibrante que aromático. Como una ola, se construye sobre un ritmo con rupturas: primero se despliega y luego envuelve, generoso y estructurado, para después retirarse en una verticalidad profunda y oscura que se estira lentamente hacia una sensación amarga y sápida de yodo.


En cada cosecha y desde el principio, se aparta un número limitado de botellas en las bodegas, destinadas a una maduración más prolongada. Con este tiempo extra, aumenta la actividad interior de la botella.
Las lías ceden su energía al vino… una misteriosa transferencia de vida.

Dom Pérignon se eleva pacientemente hasta una nueva cumbre de la expresión. Llamamos a esta elevación Plénitude 2, la segunda vida de Dom Pérignon.

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GlenDronach Kingsman Edition 1989 Vintage

There’s nothing quite like a fancy freebie to hurry me to the keyboard. Indeed, there’s double – no, triple – the reason I’m excited about this whisky.

Let’s put aside the rather lovely gift set, which landed on the doormat of Malt Towers recently. This is a new GlenDronach, which is always rather lovely – a potent spirit in a punchy puncheon, to somewhat stretch the alliteration. Thirdly, and perhaps most splendidly, it is a tie-in to perhaps my most eagerly anticipated film of this year (well, it runs a close second to the new Bond), The King’s Man, the third in the Kingsman franchise, directed by Matthew Vaughn, and which is out… sometime soon. I forget when, this far into a pandemic. But soon. Ish.

GlenDronach Kingsman Edition 1989 Vintage

The first two films, Kingsman: The Secret Service and Kingsman: The Golden Circle were marvellous. And indeed, the tie-ins were rather stylish. Swan across to the Mr Porter website and you can still see the tie-in clothing by ridiculously high profile craft manufacturers – Turnbull & Asser shirts, George Cleverley shoes, Drake’s accessories. This isn’t some cheap knock-off stuff, as you might imagine with tie-in goods; it’s all incredibly well put together.

But the eagle-eyed drinks geek would have noticed that a chunk of the second film, Kingsman: The Golden Circle, was filmed in the amazing Napoleon Cellar in the bowels of the world-famous wine merchant Berry Bros. & Rudd. There Eggsy and Merlin drink, of all things, some Bourbon, which sees them whisked away to hijinks in the US, where there are plenty more whisky – and whiskey – references, notably at the Statesman Distillery headquarters. Berry Bros. & Rudd now have a dedicated Kingsman Room, which I have seen with my own eyes and is most splendid (as is all of the insides of Berry Bros.).

GlenDronach, one of my top Scotch distilleries, has managed to score bragging rights – and film rights – for the whisky. In a funny sort of way, you don’t get to see whisky on the big screen quite like you used to. Whisky was used to represent status, a little elitism, that perhaps someone has obtained a certain level of gravitas in their life. Suntory time.

I mean sure, in Bond the villain shot some (probably fake anyway) Macallan off the head of a young lady – whose sole existence in the film seemed to be to reveal how out of touch the scriptwriters could be with a modern on-screen representation of women in film – but aside from that? I’ve not seen a great deal. I can’t say I’ve watched a great deal of Netflix shows to know whether or not the same ideal of whisky is presented there. (And yes I know that Bond reference is old but I have a child and haven’t been to the cinema in ages.)

Or perhaps whisky has been democratised – it is a more egalitarian drink, and no longer useful as a shorthand character summary on the big screen? Whisky on a table no longer says slick-wise-old-businessman, but rather it can mean mother, father, young man, young woman, rich or not all that rich. Whisky can be marketed to suggest you want to slum it with Proper Twelve to stash expensive bottles for a pension fund.  Is whisky no longer useful, in that respect, to filmmakers? Utter speculation based on nothing more than hunches, but that’ll do for the pages of Malt.

In fact, back to the Kingsman series: GlenDronach was meant to have something to do with the last film, though I can’t actually remember seeing the brand in the film, just what I think was a GlenDronach bottle from a distance though had a “Kingsman” label on it. (I tried to screenshot it but Apple TV is clever and won’t let me, but suffice to say that I’d be very pissed off if I forked out tens of thousands for a movie tie-in bottle and the bloody name never even appeared on screen.)

Anyway, back to this particular GlenDronach whisky, which is a 1989 vintage (in whisky, of course, the vintage doesn’t have anything to do with the vintage of the raw material – barley – bur rather distillation year), and 29 years old at that. The PR gumpf suggests it was inspired by a 29-year-old whisky at GlenDronach that was bottled in 1913, a year before the First World War; useful, given the film – The King’s Man – was set during the First World War.

The expression is meant to pay “homage to fallen friends who bravely fought during WW1” (though, split infinitive aside, I have not seen if the distillery will be making any donations to any military-related charities with this release). There are 3,052 bottles of this, which was matured in oloroso Sherry casks “followed by a final maturation” (finished or double matured?) in Pedro Ximénez casks. It’s bottled at 50.1% ABV, and each will cost… US$1,299. I’ll get to that, but first some notes.

GlenDronach Kingsman Edition 1989 Vintage – Review


Colour: old oak.

On the nose: very GlenDronach. The style is there even after 29 years in wood. But it’s right at the heady end of things: sticky figs, hoisin sauce, damson chutney. Both intense sweetness yet balanced by umami, a slightly meaty note: pan-fried grouse in some gooey autumnal sauce. Drifts into sandalwood perfume, wood polish, Mince Pies. I must admit this has one of the more impressive GlenDronach noses.

In the mouth: not at all too tannic or bitter; the wood has been gentle in its old age. Very silky. There’s a good amount of those dark, dried fruits: figs, raisins sure, but very rich. Damson chutney again – muscovado sugar, bitter 80% dark chocolate, a touch of coffee perhaps with morello cherries. I wouldn’t say it’s particularly spicey. Mince pies. Drifts into cola on the mid pallet somewhat; I never know if that’s a good thing or not – certainly speaks of intensity. Yet the wood never becomes too much, the age never overwhelming as it can be for these old sherry monsters (though I tend to think GlenDronach hits the sweet spot around 20 years).