Today we will stay in France, in the south.
Our tasting takes place after a hike in the granite mountains of Sidobre in the middle of the Black Mountain. Ideal place to enjoy a Black Mountain in its smoked version.
With a friend, whom we will call here Vini (for anonymity), we have just climbed the 1200 m of Mont de Lacaune and we land facing the valley. My friend takes out a bottle that lets nothing show through from its container and carries its mystery with it.
The tasting will involve a complex liquid in its elaboration. This is a beverage created from the blend of Scotch whiskies, often 5 to 6 years old, which are then pressed in barrels on Occitan lands for a little over a year in old Armagnac casks. The liquid obtained and then again spent several weeks in casks with Scottish whiskies with smoky notes! What a program.
We draw our glencairns and pour a golden but rather light-coloured liquid into them (whereas the announcement of woody wood in this black bottle made us think of a rather dark liquid).
The nose of this whisky, on the other hand, keeps its promises. It is initially rather mineral and floral but already announces its smoky character. A second passage takes us back to where we are with the woody notes of the Montagne Noire.
Before tasting it, we let our mind wander in order to appreciate it as much as possible. This is an opportunity for my friend to mention the host of the place: the Louglier. He tells me a legend from the 17th century about this hybrid animal, a mixture of a wolf and a wild boar. It is said that this animal close to an enterdon has the speed and discretion of a wolf but the power and defences of a wild boar. He would attack his victims by running at them and kicking them with fangs before tearing their skin with his powerful jaws. Enough to shake as the night falls.
To forget we will taste our whisky: in the mouth, it is complex, mixing floral notes in the middle of a very present smoke. By keeping it in the mouth, the smoke dissipates somewhat, leaving first a taste of toast, leather and then vanilla.
Once swallowed, the aromas of a vanilla coffee emerge.
All this had made us somewhat forget the legend of the endemic animal of these places when we first heard the rustling of a thicket in front of us, then the leafing of an animal. Taking a sip of this beautiful French blend to forget, we unfortunately found ourselves facing a huge wolf flanked by a snout shaped nose and especially two teeth protruding from each side of the jaw.
We barely had time to realize that the beast threw itself on us and.............................................