02/01/2026 Start as you mean to go on

January, on this blog, is traditionally reserved for non-Scotch-single-malt beverages (Burns' Night excepted), but we will kick off this year with Scotch single malts regardless.

Ledaig 14yo 1973/1987 (56.3%, Sestante): nose: meow! Very-slightly-smoked orchard fruits, mainly cut Golden Delicious apples, but also kakis. Thirty seconds of breathing transform this into a much smokier affair, with charcoal smoke, soot and charred wood. With a bit of shaking the glass, one can swiftly find the fruits again, still from the orchard, crunchy, bright and juicy. Comice pears and quinces join, presented in a lacquered wooden case. Suddenly, a wave of engine grease slaps the taster in the nose, then shoves (blue) plasticine through the nostrils. As unexpectedly as it came, that note disappears to leave charred bacon, followed by cured orchard fruits and bruised apples. The second nose smells more autumnal, with dead leaves, muddy earth, and fruits falling off trees. There is something else that is too subtle to fully grasp; acetone, maybe? Wood varnish? Wood stain? Windscreen defroster? Hard to tell. Rising and overtaking that are matchsticks, that is paraffin-coated wood, splashed with black ink... and kerosene. Mouth: we have more fruity smoke or smoky fruits on the palate, apples again, but also kakis and persimmons, this time. Chewing stirs up the smoke, which makes for an acrid mouthfeel, adds embers, a pinch of white ash, and soot-y grapefruit segments. It has burnt wood as well, smoked orange and a timid thyme infusion. The second sip seems fruitier, with pineapple juice and oroblanco pulp ravishing the taste buds. We pick up a droplet of windscreen defroster, so soft that many would overlook it, but those who are super-sensitive may dislike that and call it soapy. Although sweet and fruity are the major adjectives, bitter and acidic are not entirely absent. Finish: soft and fruity on the way down, it explodes as soon as it hits the bottom of the stomach. A puff of hot smoke comes back up and warms up one's thorax. The mouth is in the same state as after smoking a cigar: dry, numb, and slowly waking up to menthol, cigar leaves and smoked apple slices. The second gulp feels fruitier and less smoky. Pineapple paste blended with plasticine, as well as stale membrillo, chewy fruit-flavoured sweets, laurel leaves and menthol cream. Once all that has stopped talking, we get the same puff of hot smoke as before. These early Ledaig expressions are often excellent and this is no exception. 9/10 (Thanks for the sample, OB)

Caol Ila 17yo 1974/1991 (61.1%, Signatory Vintage, C#5-9, 3000b): nose: the smoke is more immediate in this one, with burnt wood, smoke from a brick oven and ashes on the campfire. We also have roasted apples (or grilled on the same campfire), and, slowly but surely, traces of smoked whelks and sand. From there, of course, we find (or deduce) fishing nets drying in the sun, crushed mussel shells and diesel engines. Interestingly, next to the diesel are pansies in a planter -- a planter shaped like a giant mussel shell. The second nose has a leathery whiff to it, closer to a suede bag than to leather belts, and oilcloth so dry it is all crackled. Soon enough, smoke comes back assertively: smoked modelling wax or plasticine, clay pots in the oven for two minutes, followed by smoked chayotes and guavas. Later on, it is empty wooden boxes that once may have contained cigars or eucalyptus powder, but are now just dusty. Mouth: big and oily, greasy, it has mud patties, diesel spilled in a puddle of sea water, mussel shells licked by flames, burnt wood, and a wave of delicious fruits -- satsumas, persimmons, cherimoyas, longans. The second sip is very similar, yet it gains a minuscule droplet of shampoo, and that gain is its loss. Sample going off? On the positive side, it also smoked-coconut yoghurt, which is much more pleasant. Repeated sipping has a similar effect as a windscreen cleaning agent, stripping enough to leave the mouth squeaky. Fortunately, that swiftly morphs into wood spices (ginger, cloves, lemongrass). Finish: smoke and burnt stuff (wood, fruit, plastic). Chargrilled pineapple, smashed into a paste, smoked persimmon, smoked Conference pear. The maritime notes have gone AWOL. Imagine searing welks and cockles in a frying pan, discarding them, and deglazing the pan with fruit juice. That juice is all that remains, it seems. The second gulp adds some tame spices, namely cinnamon paste, ground clove, and a little bit of grated ginger. That has a tingling effect on the gums, which elevates the fruitiness to another level. Honestly, there is also a touch of soap in the finish, which makes me think it was high time to polish this sample. 9/10 (Thanks for the sample, OB)

31/12/2025 One last one and I'm outta here

To round off this prolific year, we will have a dram from a distillery that we had to stop ignoring, in 2025.

Ben Nevis 26yo 1998/2025 (43.2%, Hannah Whisky Merchants Lady of the Glen Rare Cask, Refill Hogshead, C#176, 276b): nose: blimey! It is a fruity one, overflowing with orchard fruits and berries; Golden Delicious apples, Comice pears, golden raspberries, cloudberries and rehydrated dried strawberry slices. With a bit of time, it even supplies timid tropical fruits: dragon fruit, mangosteen, breadfruit, cherimoya -- phwoar! Have we got a winner, here, or what? It has an extremely-discreet metallic note too, and, in typical Ben Nevis fashion, a whisper of mud and a drop of heady wine. With intent, one may detect a pinch of ash, or a dusty ball of modelling wax. Fruits completely dominate the conversation, though. Tilting the glass strangely pushes sugo al ragù (or Bolognese sauce, as non-Italians tend to call it), fennel seeds and all. The second nose is even fruitier. It is augmented with nail varnish (of the edible kind, if that exists), plasticine and a dash of pink-grapefruit-and-pineapple juice. That makes for a lovely pastry. Mouth: funky fruits is the short answer. Wine-cured apples and quinces, apricots being dried, perhaps papaya. This time, those fruits have competition, however: the palate takes us to Roland Garros, all clay court and crushed bricks. Chewing unleashes a torrent of exotic fruits, papaya and mango first, snakehead fruit, chikoo and breadfruit in tow. There is something bitter to this as well -- thankfully not shampoo: something closer to windscreen defroster. The second sip confirms: it is modestly stripping, more squeegee than industrial cleaning agent. However, it takes but a microscopic movement for fruits to come back all guns blazing. We welcome citrus into the mix, this time, satsuma, shaddock, calamondin and sweet lemon meet papaya, longan and chikoo. Finish: more fruity debauchery. A custard-y yoghurt with cherimoya, sugar apple, mango, papaya, longan, dragon fruit all blended in. It takes a little imagination to find minute cigarette smoke, scented plasticine and clay. Actually, it is Tartan track or another rubber surface more than clay court, now. In any case, it is a medium-long finish with just a little (enough) warmth, a subtle yoghurt-y texture (coconut yoghurt, for accuracy) and just a milky lick of white wood. The second sip adds chocolate milk or cocoa made with coco to make one cuckoo. Satsumas are also present, as are golden kiwis. Mud makes a tentative re-appearance, probably clay, in fact, as it is borderline rubbery, but it is very tame indeed, soon forgotten, behind a river of tangerine pulp and smashed mango, rectified with a drop of pressed kumquat. Phwoar again! 9/10 (Thanks for the sample, SW)

30/12/2025 Lochside story

Lochside 44yo 1967/2011 (41.5%, The Vintage Malt Whisky The Cooper's Choice, Sherry Butt, C#807, 354b): nose: it has been in the glass for a while already, which may be why it is not particularly explosive, but it is fruity anyway. Cranberries, cherries, Cape gooseberries, cloudberries, whitecurrants. Warming up the glass a little bit results in more-tropical fruits rearing their heads, yellow passion fruit in particular, but also dragon fruit, mangosteen or rambutan. Blowing on the whisky (to warm it up) adds a pinch of cigar ash (tOMoH does not smoke, before you jump to conclusions). That dissipates quickly to focus on those tropical fruits -- they become more and more prominent, never shouty. Suddenly, we enter a dunnage warehouse heavy with scents of damp clay floor and lichen on stave. That somehow converges to form freshly-oiled wooden shelves (the posts, to be precise) and a whiff of rancio. The second nose continues the work of the first, with fruits, dunnage warehouse and heavy wood dust mixed with ashes. Mouth: we continue the dunnage-warehouse tour with wood dust, lichens and damp clay floor. Sadly, that is eclipsed by a strong shampoo taste. Another sample gone off! It is strippingly acidic and bitterly soapy. One can still guess the beauties underneath it, which makes the experience even sadder. Repeated sipping does not improve -- on the contrary! Newly-found pieces of fruit float in a bitter shampoo bath. Finish: it reclaims a lot of its appeal, with plums, grapes and purple passion fruits, and little of the horrible shampoo that spoiled the mouth. A medium-long finish with touches of dunnage warehouse again, more staves and lichens than clay floors, at this point, and that ends with a lingering note of rancio. The second gulp puts the spotlight on a lovely fruit paste, passion fruit, pineapple, or even mango, albeit prevented from shining too brightly by a drop of shampoo. Pity about the mouth. 6/10 (Thanks for the sample, OB)

Following a Bunnahabhain and a Bowmore, That is the third sample from the same provider that is likely best poured down the drain. We do not have enough empirical evidence or scientific data to draw a conclusion other than: it is very frustrating.

Lochside 18yo 1991/2010 (50%, Douglas Laing The Old Malt Cask 50°, Refill Hogshead, C#DL6303, 289b): nose: this one is even quieter. It has dried pineapple chunks and haybales -- a strange combination, but why not? Deeper nosing reveals more herbs, from the herbs garden, now: oregano, marjoram, faded thyme, sage roots (the leaves, not so much). It also has a whisper of suede so faded that it hardly smells. Behind that, we sense some tropical fruits, very faint and probably baked, and an empty drinks carton. The second nose sees straw, grist, dried meadow flowers, desiccated yellow fruits and blueberries, virtually unrecognisable, in a wicker basket. A drop of lemon juice later revives those. Perhaps it is lemon custard instead of juice, actually, since it is much subtler. Tilting the glass offers a wave of dry earth too, an unexpected addition. Mouth: woah! this is peculiar. A broth of hay, garden fertiliser, potting granules, lime and pomelo peels, and an infusion that is neither tea, nor coffee, nor really chicory. But what is it? We will see later that the official tasting notes talk about old-fashioned hairdressing (for the nose); is that it, perhaps? There is a bitterness at play that is difficult to identify, and something fresh at the same time... lemon thyme in yoghurt? The second sip does, indeed, have lemon-thyme twigs (no leaves) that were once covered in honey but no more, and preserved lemons. Chewing stirs that up to a point one may be convinced to find shampoo in this too (nooooo!), but that is not really the case. It is only a vegetal bitterness that has no common measure with the abomination of the previous dram. Finish: well, it has fruits frolicking with dryish grass, spilled on a Bulgomme table protector. It is extremely singular. Not particularly long, it leaves the palate feeling as if one had been chewing clay. The second gulp is immensely more custard-y. Vanilla-and-lemon custard augmented with a little thyme, or even some lovage seeds, and desiccated pineapple chunks. Of course, it is very different from the beauties from 1981, but it is also another style than what was being made only two years earlier. Honestly, if is difficult to decide what to make of it. It is at least interesting, I suppose. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, OB)

Happy birthday, adc.

29/12/2025 A pair of Pulteney

Old Pulteney 2000/2012 Flotilla (46.4%, OB bottled for Tonnerre de Brest 2012, ex-Bourbon Casks): nose: certainly lives up to its name as the maritime malt: this is saline indeed, with added pastry for good measure. Vanilla custard with a dusting of sea salt, doughnuts eaten by the seaside, Langues de Chat, salted caramel and fudge, calamansi with a sprinkle of salt. It has a fruity side that brings a smile to one's face. The second nose does away with the seaside and focuses on pastry instead, chiefly shortbread, now. It has a spray of lemon juice too. Over time, the lemon turns into chewy citrus-flavoured sweets. Mouth: ooh! It is now clearly fruity, with calamansi, tangerine, sweet lemon and calamondin showing their wares. The tongue perceives a slight bitterness, probably that of the citrus' peels. Chewing increases the acidity that one would expect from citrus, and adjoins a heaped tablespoon of fine salt. Chewing some more sees the appearance of pink grapefruit, and the salt mixes with their skin to somehow come across as rubber. The second sip is bitterer, as if the rubber touch had found a new lease of life. Citrus peels, rubber seals... and, out of nowhere, crisp sweet citrus (Cara Cara orange, yuzu, Ugli fruit), maybe even mixed peel. Finish: a modest kick delivers pastry, salt and distant rubber. Soft, moist madeleines sprinkled with salt, Langues de Chat, all-butter cake. The rubber note is limited to water in which liquorice bootlaces have soaked. It is barely worth mentioning. Repeated quaffing further dials down the rubber and introduces moist lemon cake to replace it. That goes very well with a glass of orange-infused water and a pinch of salt. This is a solid, unchallenging dram. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, OB)

Pulteney 13yo 2012/2025 (58.9%, Hannah Whisky Merchants Lady of the Glen Rare Cask, Refill Barrel, C#800134, 241b): nose: noticeably sibylline, this one has fudge, vanilla custard and shortbread of one kind or another. Where the other one had clear salt, this is more metallic. Instead of a sprinkle of sea salt, it takes dusty oxidised metal, heats it, then grates it. The filings thereof are what we smell here. Soon enough, lemon cake rises up to the challenge and overtakes all, fresh, fruity, moist and a little salty, after all. In fact, it turns fruitier and fruitier as the lemon turns to lime, the calamansi to pomelo. The second nose has citrus-flavoured Turkish delights, candied lemon or calamansi slices, and clementines living their best life on a stovetop, and slowly turning dry as a result. It still has a whiff of cake, yet that is less obvious, now. At a push, one might find daffodil stems too. Tilting the glass belatedly gives a whisper of dry earth from a farm path. Mouth: of course, it is stronger than its predecessor, but it remains totally acceptable. Pretty bitter, albeit a fruity bitterness -- citrus peels and pith, hardly any foliage. Chewing increases the heat and a pleasant warmth settles, akin to sitting in a heated car seat: the feeling is clear, yet it is difficult to pinpoint where it comes from. Citrus peels transform into heated cucumber peels and the citrus sees the addition of kumquat, which brings the acidity down a notch. The second sip has dishwater, lukewarm and made foamy with a dash of citrus-scented detergent. Oh! it is not soapy per se -- it is more an impression of freshness and cleanliness with a minute rubbery bitterness. Lemon cake makes a comeback, in which ground green chilli was blended with the flour. Original and delicious! Finish: lukewarm marmalade with a pinch of salt. Beside that sweet-acidic fruitiness, a wonderful warmth puts one at ease. It has a green touch too, and it is lukewarm butterhead lettuce, rather than citrus foliage, which results in a reduced bitterness. The second gulp seems to offer a warm cup of something part chicory infusion, part citrus juice, part pouring custard, part honey (yes). It weaves sweet, acidic and bitter notes with brio and still provides this welcome, comforting warmth. That feeling stays long after the medium finish has given all the flavours it had in stock. That is comparable to chilli which keeps the palate tingling, even though no other flavour subsists. Good drop. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, SW)

Happy birthday, FN.

28/12/2025 A Campbeltonian duo

Kilkerran 8yo b.2019 (57.1%, OB, Re-Charred Oloroso Sherry Casks, B#4, 15000b, 19/354): nose: initially fairly muted, with Verdigris and lichen on limestone, at a push. That slowly and timidly opens up to reveal chocolate-flavoured whipped cream and a dash of apricot nectar. Mind you, that apricot nectar is a little stained by the fruits' stones -- unless it is nuts? It may well be: oily macadamia or Brazil... soon joined by hemp and nut shells. The second nose is suddenly very tertiary, exploding with potting soil and wild mushrooms. We find mushroom-cooking water augmented with a few drops of pressed-prune juice and, at last, a minute sweetness that seems to come out of a spoonful of hoisin sauce. Mouth: punchy and winy, this has oxtail broth, Bovril, strong beef stock, Maggi sauce. It is as concentrated as tamarind concentrate, but savoury, at least to a point. Keeping it on the tongue for long enough adds melted chocolate, very concentrated again, which makes for a rather intense sensory experience. Chewing releases woody notes, oily exotic woods and Kluwak-nut broth. The second sip insists on those oily-wood notes; iroko, ebony, black walnut, African blackwood. It is a leeeeeeedle drying in the long run, yet surprisingly balanced, all things considered. Finish: a big, heavy Sherry maturation in the finish as well, with more melted dark chocolate mingling with beef stock, oxtail stew and tamarind concentrate. It is a warming finish, the kind one cannot shake off, which, once again, reminds me of Kluwak-nut broth. The second gulp, again, balances the darkness of nuts (Brazil, Kluwak) and wood (ebony, black walnut) with the gentle sweetness of prunes, now accompanied by raisins. It retains an earthy dryness without being desiccating. For those who like this sort of profile, this is hard to beat. Others will be entirely unmoved by it. I will have another dram to decide where I stand on the question. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, OB)

Springbank 8yo 2017/2025 (54.7%, OB Springbank Society, Fresh Madeira Cask, 1761b, 25/169): nose: well, the type of cask is not trying to pass for something else, here! We have a blast of grape juice, yellow wine, orange wine, but also cured peaches. It has whispers of rambutan trying to compete with a rising scent of magnolia and pink-grapefruit peels, followed by cured lychees and ethereal pickled pearl onions. Somehow, it then musters up memories of the men's changing room at a sports club, an indescribable mix of shower gel, deodorant, acrylic fabrics and leather from the trainers and kit, and sweat. In a way, this reminds me of the wave of Glengoyne bottlings at the SMWS that were all from Sherry gordas (even the pink colour points in that direction!), fruity, winy and oxidised, somehow. It is also remarkably different from the first time we had it: no farm-y note to speak of, today. The second nose is überperfume-y -- an explosion of magnolia, enriched with dried meadow flowers in a flower foam block. In a way, one may find this rustic, probably. 'Farm-y' or 'earthy' would be a dozen steps too far. Three drops of water increase the cured-lychee and magnolia scents, and add a faint whiff of hipster coffee -- the kind they describe on blackboards as having notes of lychee and peach. Mouth: soft and fruity, very much in the same vein as those Glengoynes again, it has grapes soaking in wine that is slowly turning into vinegar, pickled pearl onions, a pinch of earth at last, and cured lychees left in booze far too long. It is potent and softly astringent, yet that is not really a distraction. Chewing long enough adds a pinch of chalk, a trowelful of loamy soil, confirms the orange wine and magnolia, and pumps Bourbon-stave vapours via retro-nasal olfaction. The second sip is mellow and pillow-y at first, then develops a mineral aspect -- mostly limestone dust. It quickly returns to fruity acidity, with pink grapefruits, this time the flesh as well as the peels and pith, and cured peaches or nectarines, with perhaps a bit too much wine involved. Adding water somehow injects a micro-dose of cereals into this (toasted barley, toasted wheat puffs) and still allows lychee to come out on top, even if tempered by a minute bitterness. Finish: pretty winy again, this remains very pink. More magnolia and lychees, this time supported by white peaches (some cured, others not), wine-soaked pineapple, pink-grapefruit peels. Pearl onions, if present at all, are in the far back of the bus, and there is no mention of earth or peat whatsoever, interestingly enough. The second gulp has a boozy-pastry note, rum baba, crème caramel with a dash of liqueur, or liqueur chocolates. It is nowhere as sickly as Edle Tropfen; probably closer to milk chocolate with a Cointreau syrup core. One can even feel the bitter orange bark, in the long run. There is also a certain spiciness at play, likely cracked black pepper, that could be mistaken for a pinch of dry earth. However, it is syrup or liqueur that sticks to the gob, though it may as well be wine. In any case, it is balanced enough for tOMoH, who is not usually a big fan of wine or liqueur notes in his whisky. A few drops of water tone down the wine to help focus on fruits, it seems -- cured blush oranges join the peaches and lychee. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, SOB)