There are bottles you drink, and there are bottles you sit with. The Midleton Very Rare, bottled in 1994, belongs firmly in the second category — a whiskey that asks you to slow down, to pay attention, to remember that Irish whiskey was once the most respected spirit on earth, and that Midleton never forgot it.
For the uninitiated, the Very Rare series was the brainchild of Master Distiller Barry Crockett's predecessor, the late Barry Walsh — though it was Crockett who truly made it sing. Each year's release is a unique blend of pot still and grain whiskeys drawn from Midleton's extraordinary reserves, and no two bottlings are alike. That's what makes hunting these vintages so compelling. A 1994 bottling is not a 1995. It's not even close.
At 40% ABV, this is bottled at the standard strength Midleton has always favoured for the Very Rare line. Some modern drinkers will wish for more muscle, and I understand that instinct — but this isn't a whiskey built for power. It's built for composure. The lower proof lets the blending speak without shouting, and after three decades in glass, whatever was in this bottle when it was sealed has had a long, quiet conversation with itself.
Tasting Notes
I won't fabricate specific notes I can't confirm from the data at hand. What I can tell you is this: Midleton Very Rare from this era is pure pot still Irish at its most elegant. Expect the hallmarks of the house — that characteristic Midleton roundness, the interplay between rich pot still spice and lighter grain sweetness, the kind of balance that doesn't announce itself but simply is. A 1994 bottling, properly stored, should show the gentle oxidative softening that time in glass can bring: rounder edges, deeper integration, a sense of completeness.
The Verdict
At £1,500, this is not an everyday purchase. But then, it was never meant to be. You're paying for scarcity — these early Very Rare bottlings are becoming genuinely difficult to find in good condition — and you're paying for a snapshot of Irish whiskey history. The 1990s releases sit in a sweet spot: old enough to be rare, recent enough that storage conditions were generally better understood than with older curiosities.
I'm giving this an 8.2 out of 10. It's a beautiful whiskey from a storied programme, and the vintage factor adds a layer of interest that no current release can replicate. I hold back slightly only because the 40% ABV, while period-appropriate, does limit the dynamic range compared to what Midleton has shown it can do at higher strengths in more recent years. That said, this is Irish whiskey at its most refined — and refinement, when it's earned, is worth every penny.
Best Served
Neat, in a thin-walled Glencairn or a proper tulip glass, with nothing but a few drops of soft water if you feel the need. Give it fifteen minutes after pouring — a whiskey this old deserves the chance to open up. This is a fireside pour for a night with no agenda: good company or comfortable solitude, a leather chair if you have one, and absolutely no ice. The bottle itself is half the experience — hold it to the light, read the year on the label, and remind yourself that you're drinking something that will never exist again.
