It has a greenish, tawny rim, quite deep at its mahogany core than you would expect for a Port of this age. The nose is quite arresting, does not hang about, delivering a cornucopia of aromas: grilled walnuts, espresso, smoke, antique bureau and dried fig, all extremely well defined. Monitoring this over three or four hours, it gains intensity, hints of liquorice and menthol joining the chorus line, just the right amount of volatility. The palate is medium-bodied, slightly viscous on the entry, very spicy with sweet honey and brown sugar notes, completely offset by the combination of natural and volatile acids. Despite its age, this is a fiery Port with extraordinary lingering notes of Japanese shiso leaf, fig jam, damson and stem ginger, clean and poised with that volatility kicking towards the finish. This has wonderful sweetness, with 218g/L residual sugar that counters any oxidation. At around £4,000 per bottle, it is not inexpensive. But you are paying to drink history, knowing that it will never be released again. Of course, this 1896 is ready to be drunk now, but such is its concentration and vigour, that it could be cellared if you insist on your fortified wine being at least 125 years old.
Deep mahogany centre with a thin olive green rim; distinctly and very beautifully lifted on the nose, a touch balsamic or in Portuguese terms, vinagrinho, with a touch of cask dissipating to reveal a wonderful perfume of quince and a hint of coffee roast; richly concentrated (218 g/l residual sugar) with wonderfully mellifluous texture and a fresh streak of acidity which stops it from cloying, there’s a hint of molasses, butterscotch and leather on the finish which, as you might expect, goes on and on and on. The essence of Port: glorious and the last of its kind.
