Of Advertorials, Vikings, Bookshelves, And A Delicious Highland Park Whisky
Photo by yours truly
As I’ve mentioned here before, in addition to writing editorial content I also write my share of ad copy. It’s fun work, and I get to learn a lot about products I had no idea existed before I got the assignment. When I do get to write about liquor, it’s usually for oddball liqueurs or cocktail mixers which hold little interest for me personally.
Once in a while, though, I get to write about a product that’s right in my wheelhouse, like this limited edition single malt from Highland Park. Pretty much any time I’ve written about them from an editorial standpoint, I’ve mocked their obsession with Vikings. Yes, Highland Park is distilled and aged on Orkney, a remote Scottish island that was, many many hundreds of years ago, long before whisky was ever made there, inhabited by Vikings. But after years of one Norse-themed bottling after another, packaged in what look like medieval funerary arks, with one silly name after another, it gets a little tiresome. Also dimming my ardor somewhat was the spate of no-age-statement whiskies they released in the wake of the Scottish whisky shortage, which befell the back in the early 2010s. To be fair, their Dark Origins bottling was the first NAS whisky that I actively enjoyed. But that was the exception to the rule.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Highland Park. Their 18 Year Old expression has been lionized by the great F. Paul Pacult as the best whisky on the planet — more than once. My fave of the bunch is their 17 Year Old “Ice Edition,” a goofy limited edition expression packaged in a green mountain-shaped bottle (yep, it’s the Viking thing) that happens to taste mind-blowingly good. Their rarest expressions, like the 1968 that may still be available for ridiculous amounts of money somewhere, sre freaking extraordinary. But they’ve become deeply, deeply silly over the last few years, and I’ve got to admit that I do take some joy in calling them out for it.
Obviously, I didn’t call them out when I got the call to write an “advertorial” for The Dark, a limited edition 17 year old expression that hit shelves a year or two ago. I also didn’t get to taste it before I wrote it up. When you’re writing ad copy, of course, the opinions of the writer don’t matter — it’s all about what the brand wants you to say. And it’s not like my name was on it or anything. Copywriter me and drinks writer me are two distinct and separate things. I was a little miffed that I hadn’t gotten a sample to try for editorial purposes, but I figured that maybe I’d mocked the Viking stuff one time too many and had fallen off their mailing list. Long story short, I wrote the copy, played up the Viking heritage rather than making fun of it, and everyone was happy.
Fast forward to last week, when my overtaxed bookshelves needed shoring up and I had to take down all my books for the duration. Turns out one of the “books” was actually a book-shaped box. And in the box was… a sample of Highland Park: The Dark. They hadn’t forgotten me after all! Although my failing to even taste it at the time, let alone write it up, would surely not be appreciated. But I figured, better late than never, and poured a wee dram. And wouldn’t you know, it’s fantastic. Big sherry notes with HP’s characteristic light peatiness and a high ABV (52.9%) make this sucker a force to be reckoned with. So feel free to read my advertorial and know that drinks writer me agrees with copywriter me. And disregard the Viking stuff.