Auchentoshan 15yo d.1981/1996 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#1159): nose: light and clean, it has spring-flower leaves, such as lily of the valley not yet in bloom, or budding tulips. There is a subtle hint of jasmine, barely noticeable, a blend of plain flour and confectionary sugar. Yes, it is extremely discreet and ethereal; almost too much so. Shaking the glass does help a bit, producing faded boiled sweets, crystallised raspberries, talcum powder to keep baby's bum soft, and flower pollen. The second nose has lichen on slate, slate that is kept in a barn, hazelnut shells, and still that flowery fragrance that is struggling to make itself heard. Mouth: light and sharp, the palate prolongs the flowery course, with leaves and petals, now (yellow tulips, daffodils), but then it adds a dollop of mocha, this time. It has that soft bitterness that comes with mocha-flavoured milk chocolate (think of Côte d'Or Mignonettes in the brown wrapper). That is right: the mouth has something lightly toasted. The texture is milky, borderline creamy -- a mocha cream, of course. Kahlua drowned in milk, hazelnut liqueur, also drowned in milk. Each sip seems sweeter than the previous, strangely enough. Finish: it is clearly milk coffee, here, augmented with a pinch of black-cumin seeds. Oh! it is milky. Repeated sipping might swap the coffee for some kind of nut liqueur (blanched hazelnuts or almonds come to mind), but it certainly retains the milky character! Virtually none of the flowery taste survives this far; at a push, we could debate whether it has a drop of hyacinth-stem sap: it is true that the minute bitterness does not exactly come from something toasted, in the finish. I call it mocha chocolate and I rest my case. After trying to convince myself that it deserves 8, I decide it does not, and stick with the same score I gave it the first time. 7/10
Auchentoshan 22yo (48.3%, Creative Whisky Co. for The Good Spirits Co., 123b, b#101): nose: one would be hard pressed to identify this as coming from the same distillery! A fruity number, this one! It has chewy sweets (currants, berries) that quickly turn dryer, if not less fruity. Imagine chewy candied pineapple cubes, dusted with confectionary sugar. Flowers then take off -- dried flowers: bluebells, lavender, heather and saxifrage offer a subtle pot-pourri, very much in the background. With time, that chewy fruit becomes more and more juicy, dishing out cranberries, blackberries, blueberries, myrtles, dark grapes. It has a faint whisper of Virginia tobacco as well, just to be sure. The second nose feels warmer, somehow, while still churning out the dark berries. Now, we have bananas, peeled and stored in a cask (do not ask!), a drop of scented ink, and a waxed plastic carrier bag. Further nosing cranks up the fruit, if anything, and I swear it has blackened mango and banana, as well as chewy blackcurrant cough drops. Mouth: wow! That is juicy. Dark plums, dark grapes, blackberries, blackcurrant jelly so dark it might even give a liquorice impression. The berries here are so dark they are earthy to a point it actually feels smoky. The acidity and bitterness interplay tightly enough to nearly cancel each other, leaving the whole ideally balanced, bathing in dark-fruit juice. Currant paste, berry jelly... The texture is thick and chewy, and the whole is confidently fruity. Purple passion fruits are here too, as are figs, oozing caramelised syrup. It feels almost like a Cognac, after a few sips, so full of terroir one can almost taste the vine roots. Retro-nasal olfaction brings a gentle note of peppermint, as if a Fisherman's Friend got lost in a bowl of fruit jelly. Finish: the dark-berry symphony goes on, adding the edge of a knife to the equation (that would be steel, then). Long, full of currants, elderberry, rosehip, eglantine, prunes. For a fleeting moment, it seems as though all that wants to morph into an earthy, smoky explosion, yet it is contained after all, and the only thing that blows up is that crazy dark fruit, jammy as fook, and turning more tropical by the second -- mango and passion fruit at the ready, waiting for their moment in the spotlight. The whole seems slightly less tropical than when I tried it in the shop, yet it is a work of art all the same. 9/10
Invergordon 32yo 1988/2020 (50.1%, CWC The Electric Coo Series, finished in ex-Brandy Butt): nose: the traditional grain markers are mahoosive, here; nail varnish, wood lacquer, new lacquered shoes (it was the Academy awards last night, after all), glazed doughnuts. It is only by insisting on finding them that currants painstakingly come tickle the nostrils -- and even then, that takes a while. On the other hand, we have old, woodworm-eaten bookcases appearing, as well as oven-roasted banana skins. There is something more acidic too: a drop of white wine, maybe, or simply green-grape juice. In any case, that acidity is discreet to a fault. Dusty wood is much louder. The second nose clarifies that impression: dry lichen on old staves, old dunnage warehouse, in which the humidity level has dropped too low. Later yet, it is a Bulgomme non-slip table protector. Mouth: it is a different story on the tongue. Waxy, oily and pretty acidic to boot. Here are grapefruit and dates, combined into a super-thick paste. The second sip focuses on that and turns into stale Tubblegum. The grapefruit becomes this unusual chewy number, perhaps stale Sugus, if they ever made grapefruit-flavoured ones. I can almost feel currants trying to come through, but it ain't happening. Finish: surprisingly consistent with the mouth, the finish sees Play-Doh, chewy grapefruit segments coated in Golden Syrup and dried dates of the kind that sticks to every single tooth. However, it has remnants of the dusty old wood, initially encountered on the nose. Further sipping dials down the woody tones, which allows acidic-sweet fruits to shine -- again, grapefruit, but this has pineapple too. In the longer run, a fresh mintiness lingers, as if to remind the drinker that mojito season is almost here. Quite different from the first time. Has it spent too long in an open sample? Doubtful. Anyway, decent, unchallenging grain. 7/10
Benriach 27yo d.1976 (46%, Direct Wines First Cask, C#9444, b#332, b. ca 2004): nose: initially, it is custard, choux dough and éclairs (though with barely any chocolate on them). Pretty soon, an enticing aroma of buttery tropical fruits hits the back of the sinuses; mango, nectarine, peach, jackfruit. The longer it sits in the glass, the more obvious that tropical fruitiness becomes -- and who would I be to complain about it? It is not all either: sharper, more floral notes pick up -- jasmine, lily of the valley, crocuses. Mango comes back with a vengeance, warm mango slices, dripping with juice. It has a touch of wood, in the long run; wood of the comforting kind, and pan-seared plums in sizzling butter. The second nose has a drop of nail varnish, or brass polish, perhaps autumn leaves. Mouth: well, it is more astringent than one might have expected, showcasing green hazel, then young iroko. The fried plums are here, though they now feel as though the pan they were fried in was deglazed with red-wine vinegar, and the mango, if still present, is less ripe and has the skin on, this time. On the other hand, the éclairs have vanished altogether. The second sip turns this into fruit juice, quite simply. It is hard to tell the fruits apart -- I am sure there is peach and mango, yet it also has more acidic ones, such as mandarine, or even tame grapefruit -- or is that blush orange? There is a drop of lime juice too, and kaffir lime leaves; a mix which makes for a partly-silky, partly-stripping texture. An interesting balance. Finish: long and elegant, it has the wood from the nose, as well as the fruits from the palate, which is to say: tropical-ish, not too ripe. It is a warm and persistent finish that grips the tonsils and will not let go. The second sip seems to increase the citrus in the finish -- a soft and sweetish sort of citrus; tangerine, ripe mandarine, maybe bergamot, a drop of lime and citrus foliage (clementine and kaffir lime leaves). For a second, towards the death, pineapple appears to try and make its way to the front row, yet it is easily rebuffed by much-bolder citrus (pomelo, tangerine, kaffir lime). Great Benriach. 8/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)
While trying to find something from 1992, I came upon this. It seems adequate for today.
Linlithgow 26yo 1975/2001 (50.2%, Scotch Single Malt Circle, C#96/3/15): nose: here is a big, hairy, meaty nose, much to my surprise. Then again, considering how pale some older St Magadalenes have been, this may very well stem from a sherry cask. It has cured meat, Madeira wine, prunes in a wine sauce, pickled onions, a mix of berries sizzling in butter or in lard -- yes! Lard it is. Nail-varnish remover and heady peonies, musk, wet cats and horse's sweat. Whoever thinks that Lowlanders are all nondescript clearly has not tried many St Magdalene/Linlithgows! Over time, the obvious sherry slows down and makes room for meadow flow- no! Gone. The wine-y, musky notes are back in full swing. Intermittently and fleetingly, they open up to let meadow flowers through (corn flowers and periwinkles eventually turn into daffodils), as well as flint and lime juice. Emphasis on the word 'fleeting', however. The second nose adds forest floor, decaying leaves, mushrooms past their prime and woodworm, walnuts, fallen off the tree and oozing wood stain. Mouth: big and challenging, it has the musk and the wine sauce, yet what easily dominates the tongue are flint and limestone, heated to just below splitting point, as well as bone-dry white wine. Sauvignon blanc does not come close to describing how dry this is. It is closer to to licking ground bones, or an ashtray in which white wine was spilled and subsequently evaporated. Chewing on it for a minute or two allows a clear fruitiness to grow (green grapes), yet there is no sweetness whatsoever, here! The second sip is acidic in a cider-vinegar way, for a moment at least: shortly, it goes back to what it showcases best, that is to say: ash and dry white wine. Finish: surprisingly short and discreet, after the assault on the palate, it leaves an ethereal sensation in the mouth. A lot fruitier here, yet just as dry. White-wine residue in an empty glass the morning after, rightly crystallised where the stem meets the bulb, and also tobacco ash. The second gulp is no longer discreet at all -- quite the opposite! Wide, acidic and ashy, dry as fook, it has ground fruit stones (unripe peach) and that flinty white wine that seems to suck all moisture from the tongue, as if chewing on quarry dust. Fortunately, there is also quite a bit of fruit to make it more than just an intellectual dram. In fact, it is good, though not a crowd-pleaser. It is a hard one. Now that it is no longer our first encounter, I like it, but I cannot shake off the feeling I would score it more harshly, were it from another distillery. It is challenging, and, for that alone, I find it interesting. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, MR)
What? We have time for another dram?
Linlithgow 24yo d.1975 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#96/3/4): nose: although obviously a sister cask (from Signatory Vintage's stocks, no doubt), these two are pretty different. This one is much less meaty. In fact, it is full of flowery goodness, with jasmine, daffodils, tulips and especially forsythia. It is dripping with spring-flower nectar that would make a bumblebee go crazy. Lush and lovely. Honeysuckle, magnolia and honey on toasts. It hints at a faint bitterness, which underlines the sappy flowers, yet it is mostly fragrant and spring-like. The second nose supplies a kind of apricot liqueur, or indeed apricot eau-de-vie, since it smells not that sweet, apricot croissant (buttery pastry, in other words) and a bunch of green grapes. Mouth: the affiliation with the previous dram is more noticeable on the palate, where a certain dryness and minerality appear. It is nowhere near as dry as the other one, but it is not overtly sweet either. We have Semillon or Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, at a push, not Sauvignon blanc. The tongue meets a fruity juiciness, accompanied by bitter flower sap and granite chippings. The second sip seems mellower still, and a tad sweeter, though it does not lose the dryness entirely. It does have apricot flesh, lush and fruity, yet it is still sprinkled with granite dust -- chewing long enough makes that abundantly clear! That said, each sip seems to tone down that impression. Probably after a full bottle is it no longer rocky. :-) Finish: in the continuity of the nose and mouth, we have yellow flowers, a drop of flower sap, a mild rocky touch, and, this time, more-pronounced pastry. Stone-baked apricot turnovers, almond triangles, custard. Mind you, it is tarragon custard! An unexpected combination, that herbaceousness with pastry, yet it works a treat. The mouth feels as it does after having a snack from the bakery in a quarry: it is coated with rock dust, even if anyone would struggle to call it austere. At the death, unripe pineapple slices rock up (woah! Nice pun, there, tOMoH), bitter, if fruity and showing promises of a sweetness to come. I like this one even better. It wows me as much as it did the first time. 9/10
It is not quite spring yet, but the equinox is in a couple of days, and, between that and the conflict between Russia and Ukraine, we all agreed spring was a little more light-hearted a theme.
Cavalier66, PS and JS join me. WhiskyLovingPianist called off earlier in the week, and OB is not feeling well, today.
...Waterloo as a nod to the Belgians. It is, of course, terrific
Passport Scotch 100% Scotch Whiskies (43° G.L., William Longmore & Co. Japanese import, b. ca. early-1980s) (tOMoH): spring announces the start of holidays, which one needs a passport for. Also, this is a bottling for Japan, a holiday destination well known for its springtime festivals. Cavalier66 says we should expect something floral and delicate. Nose: "it is floral!" (Cavalier66 and PS) Green tea leaves and jasmine flowers are present alright -- more of Japan. There is also a soft fruitiness to it, with chalk (Cavalier66), and something that promises bitterness: toasted aniseed, caraway or lovage seeds along with lichen. Mouth: it is a bit prickly (PS), with a blend of peppery apricot and lychee -- the Japanese theme continues! Mind you, there is dust and coffee grounds too. In response, Cavalier66 makes a gesture that makes all of us think of testicles, rather than roasting coffee beans, which is a little puzzling (note to self: do not drink coffee at Casa Cavalier). Back to the whisky: it has the syrupy texture of quince paste, as well as a lick of metal. Finish: toasted and fruity, it has apricot shavings and more lychee, the boldness of warm metal, yet it remains very pleasant. Lovely blend! Full notes here. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, DH)
Cavalier66 [to PS]: "You're more inclined to give it an 8, because you can taste the grain. Have you ever given a malt an 8?"
Imperial 24yo 1994/2019 (43.8%, Elixir Distillers The Single Malts of Scotland, Barrel, C#5869, 178b) (Cavalier66): Cavalier66 sees this distillery as making a spring whisky, he bought this particular bottling in the spring, and it relates to the current events, in which Russia seems to have imperial ambitions and invaded Ukraine. Nose: PS finds it waxy, while I find it buttery - so much so that it smells like a Glenrothes to me. The butter soon disappears (thankfully) and makes room for honeysuckle, lemon (PS) and limoncello (PS). There is a clear note of citrus foliage too. Mouth: grassy, vanilla-ed (Cavalier66), custard-y with a creamy texture. This is all flan and custard pudding, really, with a gentle herbaceous addition (dried parsley?) The palate has a bitterness that grows, yet stays in check. Finish: citrus galore, though of the sweet kind. Calamansi, bergamot, tangerine peel -- yes: it is acidic, but sweetness balances that out quite nicely. The herbs are much tamer in the finish too, which allows citrus peel to come out clearly -- and it is delicious! 8/10
Rosebank 17yo 1991/2009 (46%, Speciality Drinks The Single Malts of Scotland, Barrel C#2206, 259b) (JS): spring roses, of course. Nose: meadows by the riverbank (Cavalier66), grassy and floral. Within a few minutes, it opens up to reveal nutty sweetness; it is not marzipan, but it comes pretty close. "Almond oil," says Cavalier66. Decaying calamansi peel, tangerine pith, then marmot balm (Murmeltier Salbe, a muscle-pain relief) and soft leather. Mouth: honey, honeysuckle, a touch of green-plant sap, almost rubber. Mind you, it retains the waxy-bright fruity character, with apricot and even peach. Nectarine, actually. Beautiful, at any rate! Finish: lovely fruity-floral profile, with buttery apricot flesh, dandelions, honeysuckle, some kind of citrus paste, sticky and sweet. PS says water makes it more zesty and prickly. I cannot be bothered trying; it is so good neat! Excellent. I am looking forward to spending more time with this it in the future. 9/10
We move to the terrace.
And it is sunny!
Next is a Springbank.
Cavalier66: "Springbank? What's the link?" PS: "Banks open in the spring."
Springbank 12yo 1992/2005 (46%, Murray McDavid, Bourbon / Mourvedre / Syrah Casks, 950b) (PS): spring-bank, of course. Nose: salty and ashy, it has dusty grist, barley burnt to ash, but also a touch of fruit and an odd minerality. We have grape juice, dry earth, dried barley, caramel puffed rice... This is perfect for terrace drinking. Mouth: acidic, borderline astringent, it has more roasted barley and dusty barns. It is rustic and a half, this one! Ash, hazel sawdust. Finish: drying white wine. We are talking Chenin blanc or Sauvignon blanc dryness. Blimey! this is dry. Sand and dry cereal dust join to desiccate even further. 7/10
PS: "You don't want to know how I got the salt in there!" tOMoH: "Salty, and a bit fatty..." PS: "How does it feel at the back of your mouth, Cavalier66? Familiar?"
PS is so proud of that one he adjusts his foundations on the garden chair... and breaks it. We go back inside.
The BenRiach 33yo 1977/2011 (45.7%, OB for Asta Morris, Refill Bourbon Cask, C#9119, 175b) (Cavalier66): Cavalier66 explains (and shows) a traditional British dance called Morris dancing (see video below). With this one bottled for Asta Morris, he has his connection. Nose: wonderfully-lacquered armchairs, pears and other orchard fruits (Cavalier66), apricot or peach stones, rather than the fruit flesh (Cavalier66). It really has a healthy dose of wood, and it is orchard-tree wood (pear tree, likely). There is fruit, of course, but it is a suggestion, not a clear fragrance. Fruit tree it is. The second nose has boiled sweets (those chewy cherries) to add to the already appealing scents. Mouth: quite similar to the nose, it has an intense fruitiness, entirely suggested and hidden under a barricade of fruit-tree wood. Apricot tree, pear tree, and it is only in the back, once the mouth is salivating, that fruit flesh comes out a little more -- a little. The second sip sees more fruit (as one would expect from a well-aged malt), yet also more greenness. Finish: a very gentle wood bitterness carries this, with cut and dried hazel. Without surprise, now, it is fruit nuances with fruit-tree wood that almost hides the sweet, juicy fruit itself. Almost. Cavalier66 finds it has lots of tannins -- and yes, it does. It is well balanced, though. This one is not a crowd-pleaser; it forces the taster to work a little to detect its appealing notes. It is ultimately rewarding, however, and therefore deserves... 9/10
PS: "A friend of mine is part of a whisky club in Germany. In Frankfurt." Cavalier66: "So, it's full of Frankfurters, that club." PS: "Yes." tOMoH: "It's a proper sausage fest, when they meat." PS: "...Anyway, the cask owner is from 1962 (I assume). He asked a supplier [we do not know which] if they had anything from 1962, because that is his year, then bought and bottled the cask."
note the ',' in the ABV, instead of a '.'
North British 1962/2010 (47,9%, Whiskyspirits) (PS): PS dared: aided by a marker pen, he transformed this into a spring-le grain, and taped a spring to the bottle. The kind of stunts that only EG has dared, to-date. Nose: oh! Yes, polished furniture, wood lacquer, then currants -- a torrent of currants. Redcurrants, to be accurate. It is not an Invergordon, but it is very much a currant affair (pun intended). Mouth: good, spicy attack, with a pinch of wood dust and toasted ginger (yes, that should be a thing), then a lick of metal... and currants galore. We have blackcurrants, myrtle, blackberries, dark grapes, prunes. Finish: long, grainy in that ethereal, heady way that makes one blind in nineteen seconds. And then, the currants take over the finish as well. I am tempted to go for 9, but realistically, that is probably because I am a sucker for obscure bottlings that no-one else can try. Still, a bold 8/10
PS taped a spring to the glass!
PS: "I added a bit of water. Would you smell it and tell me if it softens it?" tOMoH: "That's what she said." PS: "At least, I'm not the one with toffee wood!"
PS: "It's like the Platonic ideal of a good grain."
Springbank 14yo 1998/2013 (54.3%, Whiskybroker.co.uk, 1st Fill Bourbon Barrel, C#448, 229b) (Cavalier66): we wondered how many spring-banks we would have; here is the second of two. Nose: barley, engine oil, soot, hazelnuts that have spent several seasons in the cellar and are therefore very dry. Burnt bread crust, dusty barley in barns and some cigarette smoke to boot. Mouth: this is dirty! It has caramel, poured on embers, puffed rice grains and a dollop of engine oil. This is the sort of drams that could make one fall in love with the distillery -- or not. Finish: long, clinging, it has a strong, mentholated sweetness that complements the trademark Springbank dirt perfectly. Engine oil and engine metal, soot and distant toasted barley whirl with menthol ciggies. This is excellent. 8/10
Columban of Iona 23yo 1991/2014 (57.5%, The Stillman, C#16, 231b) (JS): it is Irish, Ireland is green, green is the colour of spring. Also, St Patrick was two days ago. Nose: that unmistakable mango that immediately reminds me of 117.3. It is oily and exuberantly fruity. A few minutes in, the smoke kicks in, bold and self-confident; fireplace smoke and cigarette smoke interlaced with that gorgeous, otherworldly fruitiness. Mouth: powerful, it has cracked black pepper, black beans, lichen on staves and nectarine flesh, peach and juicy mango. Phwoar! Finish: boom! An explosion of smoked mango, burnt hazel and burnt apricot stones to accompany tatters of fruit flesh (now including blood orange). This is spectacular! I like it better than the first time. 9/10 (Thanks for the sample, CD)
Port Dundas 10yo (60.2%, Cadenhead Authentic Collection World Whiskies, 318b, b. ca 1998) (tOMoH): it is a green-glass bottle. Green is the colour of spring. Cavalier66 is disappointed by the simplicity of the connection. I will live with that. I took full notes a few days ago, so short ones, today. Nose: acetone (Cavalier66). I am upset I did not think of that last week, because Cavalier66 is right. It is hot and pumped with acetone. Mouth: sweet and lichen-y at the same time, it bites, that is for sure. Once the alcohol bite has calmed down, Demerara sugar and caster sugar appear, as does patina-covered copper. Finish: huge, sweet, in a Demerara-sugar way, and actually pretty well-balanced. 7/10
Cavalier66 also brought his own water!
Cavalier66 is disappointed: his Glenallachie, whose link was the Seventeen Moments of Spring, and which he forgot to bring, is such a far-fetched link, and I just have a green bottle. :-)
Cavalier66: "It feels like it is going to blow me away, when I put it in my mouth." PS: "That's the second time this week you've told me that!"
Nishinomiya 12yo 1995/2008 (63%, Nikka Single Cask Coffey Grain, C#179005) (Cavalier66): a Japanese whisky stands in for cherry blossom, the symbol of spring in Japan. Nose: bready, yeasty, floury, and then a schtickle of menthol appears too. Perhaps it is mild toothpaste? Earlier, while Cavalier66 was explaining the link to the theme, I swear I could smell cherry blossom; now less. Then, we have herbs coming through, but there is also a slice of marzipan. The second nose has Virginia tobacco and hot linen. Water does not change it much. Perhaps it becomes more bready, and adds a blackcurrant note. Blackcurrant turnover? Mouth: strong and peppery, yet the texture is silky and flowery, with tulip petals fending off hot embers almost successfully. A hot metal blade surfaces, clearly a katana forged by a swordsmith. With water, it is full-on blackcurrant, borderline sickly. It stays on the straight and narrow, however. Finish: very powerful, it has the bread of the nose, then berries (blackcurrant, dark cherries). Water makes the finish longer, still powerful, and, here too, increases the blackcurrant and dark cherry. That berry-currant note is very nice, right up my alley. 7/10
It was St Patrick's Day, yesterday. Unwilling to follow the hordes who took the opportunity to taste something from Erin, we tasted nothing. And today, we carefully stick to the other side of the North Channel. Glasgow, to be precise. A city full of Irish immigrants and their descendants, one might point out.
Clydeside 3yo 2018/2021 COP26 / Glasgow (46%, OB, American Octaves finished in American Bourbon Barrels, 1500b, CBSCS 10092): nose: it is at once lovely caramel and tubes of brown shoe polish, Barbour grease and soft leather. The caramel hints at a welcome sweetness -- and, indeed: soon, prunes, dried dates and figs march in, complementing the greasy tones, which turn fresh, almost minty. Walnut oil and engine grease still converse with oily nuts (oily, not roasted), and overripe-fig slices. The caramel becomes fudge and Scottish tablet, and it just might be coming with a spoonful of rich soil, maybe potting soil. Yes! That, or medlar slowly transform into mildly-smoked conifer honey. How original! The second nose adds raisins and a microscopic pinch of powdered nigella seeds. Mouth: full and sweet, the pine and honey notes are easier to spot, now. The texture is reminiscent of praline liqueur. I swear there is a smoky nuance , albeit very faint. It does have a gently-bitter note, probably betraying the youth of the liquid, but it is almost hidden behind a wonderful blend of Barbour grease and lovely honey. The second sip is full-on prune syrup. What I called a smoky nuance now might be toasted seeds after all, black cumin or nigella, so subtle it is hard to tell. Finish: toasted wood, toasted pine wood, probably, runs below caramel and liqueur-drenched dried figs. The nut oil is still present, if more discreet, while the Barbour grease and engine oil seem reduced to a memory that manifests itself via a subtle bitterness (that would be the engine metal underneath the grease and oil, surely). The sweetness does not seem to make it this far, interestingly enough, yet the mouth is left with a dark-grape-juice feel. The second sip unveils dark-chocolate coulis to please the Belgians. This is only three? Good job, Clydeside! 8/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)
Aberfeldy 15yo d.1978 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#7799): nose: assertive, even bold (those were my initial words the first time, almost verbatim), not boisterous, this nose has green hazelnuts and springwood, blossoms and all. We have lots of yellow-flower shrubs too, such as kerria Japonica and forsythia, but also meadow flowers, dandelions and buttercups being the most obvious. In fact, they leave little room for corn-flowers. There is a mineral side to it too, with flint and polished granite, straight from a tombstone carver's shop window. Further in the back, sweet lozenges appear, faintly mentholated -- very faintly. Despite the greenness and the promise of flower-stem bitterness, this bouquet is quite elegant in a flighty way. Further nosing reveals hard-boiled eggs (distant, and still in their shells) and oak leaves. The second nose has autumnal fruits: nuts, of course, yet also apples, now. Have six months just passed over the course of one sip? The change in seasons seems to suggest it. It is now also sweeter and has an unexpected drop of engine oil. Mouth: the entrance is bitter, as expected, combining dandelion-stem sap and unripe hazelnut. It only takes a moment for them to come closer to an unsweetened almond paste and nut skins. Oh! the bitterness does not go away, but it is entirely acceptable. Chewing on the whisky makes it sweeter; not marzipan-y, but sweeter than it initially was anyway. The nut skins morph into nut shells, nuttiness and bitterness included. The texture is creamy and pleasant. The second sip sees sweet-citrus peels. In other words: acidity joins the bitterness. We see calamansis, mandarins, pink grapefruit. Wonderful stuff! Finish: here, the nuts are well ripe. They are also sprinkled with caster sugar, which means the bitter aspect almost disappears, replaced by an interesting earthiness. Walnut shells, almond shells, almond cream (imagine an almond-flavoured sort of Bailey's). Repeated sipping may add a drop of citrus juice, yet it remains largely similar, dishing out sweetened nuts, earthy cream and, this time, tulip petals alongside caramel. Excellent 'feldy. Those notes are quite different from the first time we had this dram, which illustrates the influence of position in a sequence, probably. 8/10
Port Ellen 18yo d.1976 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#4778): nose: delicate and refined peat from the get-go. Here are ashes, smoked oysters, vintage lemon squeezers (Ritter Citro -- it took me forever to remember where I used that reference, and it turns out it was for another Port Ellen), wet sand and beach shingles. It has a gently petrolic aspect too, with watered-down diesel, sand, thick with hydrocarbons, and even petrol itself, perhaps. After a few minutes, a distinct fruitiness grows, and raspberries and dried strawberry slices leap out of the glass, topped with a dollop of clotted cream, no less! Even further on, a delicate note of softwood joins the party, hazel or bramble, I am not sure. Tilting the glass unveils dusty soot. The second nose increases the fruity sweetness and throws strawberry bubble gum into the mix, as well as candied banana slices. Mouth: salty and a half on the palate, it feels pretty bold at 46%, and has red-hot metal, oyster shells, heated on the campfire (directly in the flames, in fact), diesel (lots of it) and the berries from the nose. Who would have thought to associate petrol, seawater and raspberries? A genius, that is who! It works a treat. The oily, sweet, salty and acidic facets all sing in unison, rather than compete with one another, and the result is surprisingly successful. Ground seashells, still salty from all the sea water, strawberry dunked in a jerrycan of petrol, perhaps even a touch of flint. Subsequent sips stay pretty hot, with lots of cracked black pepper and sand from the oven (why anyone would put sand in an oven is a good question! Unless they are making glass, of course). Finish: just as it did when we first had this, it falls somewhat short here, in that the finish seems weak-ish, compared to the heat of the palate. It is not, of course, and it sticks to the mouth for a long time, with petrol and burnt hazel. It is merely less intense or powerful than the nose and palate had one anticipate. As such, it is probably most adequate early on in a line-up. It retains the tarry sands and is muddier here than before, in a peat-bog sort of way. It has a soft burnt side, more heated wood (hazel again) than burnt peat or char, mind. Torched strawberries appear on the second sip, which is pretty original. Excellent dram. 8/10
Dornoch 3yo 2017/2020 (59.4%, OB, Sherry Cask, C#001): nose: it does not hide its young age. It is plum eau-de-vie, decaying pears and plum flesh. There is a vaguely earthy hue too, as well as walnut stain. Polished nut shells, dried shoe polish and shoe brushes, old rags... Breathing does wonders, here, rooting out the initial young and spirit-y impression. The second nose sees maple-syrup-glazed cured bacon, which is as welcome as it is unexpected. An earthy side is now bolder too, with damp clay and mud cakes, drying in the timid sun. Mouth: thin, strong and bitter, it has herbal plasticine (do not ask), unripe hazelnut and pear eau-de-vie. Keeping it in the mouth allows it to turn chewy, much in contrast with the thinness of the entrance. Then, the bitter, nutty notes from the nose return -- walnut vinegar, nut shells, green hazelnut and unripe plums. The second sip cranks up the heat and, if it is not frankly scorched earth, it is certainly pointing that way. Let us call it scorched plasticine. Finish: on the one hand, it is still bitter and green; on the other, it is a piece of dark-wood furniture with a coat of patina half a centimetre thick. Yes, here are polished-walnut armchairs rubbing feathers with green hazelnut (and winning). It leaves the mouth as if coated in some kind of dark wax (hence the polished walnut), yet hazelnut oil still permeates through it, as does a drop of plum vinegar. This is promising, but it currently lacks focus. Granted, the sweetness seems more balanced after having spent over a year in an open sample. We will see how good Dornoch really is when it reaches a decent age. 6/10
Balvenie 20yo d.1972 (46%, Direct Wines (Windsor) Limited First Cask, C#14734): nose: a deliciously delicate delight (ta-da!) This nose is at once flowery and fruity, with just a scent of baked goodies to boost. We have forsythia, daffodils, tulips, plums, nectarines, grapefruit peel and silky custard, all gently coming through. Further nosing reveals berries as well, perhaps gooseberry jelly and deeper shades of plums (deep purple replacing the yellow ones from earlier). Later on, we find scented erasers and strawberry paste. Lovely! The second nose appears sweeter, serving apricots, now -- squashed and in turnovers. Some of those apricots still have their stone; watch your teeth! More seriously, it means a slight bitterness. Mouth: this has more bite than the nose made me expect. It is a mix of wood spices (ginger and galangal shavings leading the way) and acidic alcohol more typical of barely-mature spirit than it is of a twenty-something whisky. Chewing it for a while unveils plasticine, bitterness and all, and wood paste. It is certainly a step up from the initial immature spirit, mind. A minuscule amount of peppermint shows up in the form of a gel. The second sip has a better balance, still acidic in a grape-pip-vinegar sort of way, yet that is now only one aspect amongst others, rather than what dominates. Crisp apple, plump grapes and green hazel wood sing in unison. Finish: the woody tones live on, with a Bourbon-cask-induced butterscotch, mocha fudge, Scottish tablet, and still a residual bitterness that could be associated with peppermint paste. Further sipping adds caramel to the equation, more burnt sugar than the sweet coulis one pours on flan. A bit too much burnt sugar, actually: that ends up overshadowing the above with an almost-charred layer. Grilled grapefruit peel, maybe -- grilled to a blackened heap of char. The nose is by far the best feature, here. I loved it almost a year ago. Today, it is only... 7/10
Port Dundas 10yo (60.2%, Cadenhead Authentic Collection World Whiskies, 318b, b. ca 1998): tOMoH believes this is the first Port Dundas bottled by Cadenhead. It came out in the late 1990s, which suggests a 1988 distillation. All the Port Dundas by this bottler since then have been from 1988, so they would appear to be all part of the same parcel of casks. Nose: typical Port Dundas aromas, with tinned pineapples, sage, marjoram and verbena. Deeper nosing tones down the metal, hiding it under a layer of lichen and ground dry sage sprinkled on tin cans. Pineapple slices cling to the nose, but they are very much in the background, now. The juice they were kept in is completely tainted by tin and dusty metal of sorts. As one tilts the glass, the juice turns into caramelised syrup. The second nose introduces a cold moka pot (empty). Water adds some welcome custard to the nose to complement fresh pineapple. Mouth: tinny and spectacularly salty, it is also powerful and a half (with no surprise, one might add). Here, it has tins of wood stain and bitter herbs (verbena, marjoram) to match the metallic sweetness of tinned pineapple -- again: left in the tin for too long and completely stained by it. Tinned mandarin slices and verdigris come tickle the nostril as well. The second sip is fruitier and dishes out pomelo segments and pith, which makes for an unexpectedly balanced acidic-come-bitter-come-sweet side. It also has hot, dusty metal. Water makes it sweeter, yet, though there is no dramatic change. Finish: pomelo-skin shavings, dried lime zest and salt. This makes me think of margarita: tequila, citrus and salt. The finish retains some of the herbs, while the tin recedes. Oh! it is still there, mind. It only comes out as a tease, very late in the game is all. At this stage, it is ground green-citrus peel's game. Repeated sipping makes this dangerously desiccating and leaves the tongue throbbing. It also brings back metal, cleaner now than it seemed before, yet still warm. Water oddly makes it bolder in the finish, with a dash of menthol. It seems like water takes the metallic edge off the whole, somehow. Perhaps too generously, I shall go to... 8/10
Auchentoshan 15yo d.1981/1996 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#1159): nose: light and clean, it has spring-flower leaves, such as lily of the valley not yet in bloom, or budding tulips. There is a subtle hint of jasmine, barely noticeable, a blend of plain flour and confectionary sugar. Yes, it is extremely discreet and ethereal; almost too much so. Shaking the glass does help a bit, producing faded boiled sweets, crystallised raspberries, talcum powder to keep baby's bum soft, and flower pollen. The second nose has lichen on slate, slate that is kept in a barn, hazelnut shells, and still that flowery fragrance that is struggling to make itself heard. Mouth: light and sharp, the palate prolongs the flowery course, with leaves and petals, now (yellow tulips, daffodils), but then it adds a dollop of mocha, this time. It has that soft bitterness that comes with mocha-flavoured milk chocolate (think of Côte d'Or Mignonettes in the brown wrapper). That is right: the mouth has something lightly toasted. The texture is milky, borderline creamy -- a mocha cream, of course. Kahlua drowned in milk, hazelnut liqueur, also drowned in milk. Each sip seems sweeter than the previous, strangely enough. Finish: it is clearly milk coffee, here, augmented with a pinch of black-cumin seeds. Oh! it is milky. Repeated sipping might swap the coffee for some kind of nut liqueur (blanched hazelnuts or almonds come to mind), but it certainly retains the milky character! Virtually none of the flowery taste survives this far; at a push, we could debate whether it has a drop of hyacinth-stem sap: it is true that the minute bitterness does not exactly come from something toasted, in the finish. I call it mocha chocolate and I rest my case. After trying to convince myself that it deserves 8, I decide it does not, and stick with the same score I gave it the first time. 7/10
Auchentoshan 22yo (48.3%, Creative Whisky Co. for The Good Spirits Co., 123b, b#101): nose: one would be hard pressed to identify this as coming from the same distillery! A fruity number, this one! It has chewy sweets (currants, berries) that quickly turn dryer, if not less fruity. Imagine chewy candied pineapple cubes, dusted with confectionary sugar. Flowers then take off -- dried flowers: bluebells, lavender, heather and saxifrage offer a subtle pot-pourri, very much in the background. With time, that chewy fruit becomes more and more juicy, dishing out cranberries, blackberries, blueberries, myrtles, dark grapes. It has a faint whisper of Virginia tobacco as well, just to be sure. The second nose feels warmer, somehow, while still churning out the dark berries. Now, we have bananas, peeled and stored in a cask (do not ask!), a drop of scented ink, and a waxed plastic carrier bag. Further nosing cranks up the fruit, if anything, and I swear it has blackened mango and banana, as well as chewy blackcurrant cough drops. Mouth: wow! That is juicy. Dark plums, dark grapes, blackberries, blackcurrant jelly so dark it might even give a liquorice impression. The berries here are so dark they are earthy to a point it actually feels smoky. The acidity and bitterness interplay tightly enough to nearly cancel each other, leaving the whole ideally balanced, bathing in dark-fruit juice. Currant paste, berry jelly... The texture is thick and chewy, and the whole is confidently fruity. Purple passion fruits are here too, as are figs, oozing caramelised syrup. It feels almost like a Cognac, after a few sips, so full of terroir one can almost taste the vine roots. Retro-nasal olfaction brings a gentle note of peppermint, as if a Fisherman's Friend got lost in a bowl of fruit jelly. Finish: the dark-berry symphony goes on, adding the edge of a knife to the equation (that would be steel, then). Long, full of currants, elderberry, rosehip, eglantine, prunes. For a fleeting moment, it seems as though all that wants to morph into an earthy, smoky explosion, yet it is contained after all, and the only thing that blows up is that crazy dark fruit, jammy as fook, and turning more tropical by the second -- mango and passion fruit at the ready, waiting for their moment in the spotlight. The whole seems slightly less tropical than when I tried it in the shop, yet it is a work of art all the same. 9/10
