In all likelihood, this will be my last article of 2022.
Brechin 33yo 1970/2003 (52.4%, Douglas Laing The Old & Rare Platinum Selection, 479b): nose: such depth! All at once, we have old marzipan, lichen on fruit tree, dusty cardboard, dried apricots, melon-flavoured Gummibärchen, burnt wood in brine, and honey-glazed thyme branches and rosemary sprigs, caramelising in a pan. Next are Nic Nacs (which is to say biscuit and hard meringue), rancio and hawthorn. Yes, this nose turns botanical -- not as much as, say, Tullamore, yet it is certainly going the same way. Lastly, a whiff of oilskin caresses the nostrils. Is that sea breeze, on the second nose? It seems unlikely, but it is a little briny... Dry oyster shells? A pouch of Virginia tobacco? Fascinating stuff! Much later on, a gentle hand soap shows up, delicate and pleasant. With water, the nose produces warm jam (plum, apricot), and a discreet metallic touch. Mind you, I also envision those white-and orange (vintage French) Tupperware bottles and lunch boxes from the 1980s. Further nosing seems to add pan-fried earthy mushrooms to the mix, if for a second only. Mouth: acidic and assertive, it has a spoonful of apple-cider vinegar and mandarine peels staring at a dollop of wax take a bath in apple-and-lime juice. The second sip clings to the teeth like unsoftened water in a large European city (ever noticed the water is always harder in large cities?) The sides of the mouth pick up greengage -- not just the flesh, but the stone too. It turns juicy, after a minute, which is much more agreeable than the afore-mentioned limescale. We find ourselves fishing greengages out of the juice with green rubber gloves. Far from taming it, water seems to render the whisky more potent on the palate, with red-paprika powder sprinkled on juicy plums. Finish: unassuming, but actually very long and warming. It has a lick of faded leather, here, more apples (well ripe, this time), the dusty marzipan from the nose, and chunky wax beads floating in juice that may well be greengage again. There is a dusty dryness to it, a minute after the second sip, one that hints at dunnage warehouse. Each sip seems sweeter and fruitier than the previous, with greengage a definite staple. There may be a drop of mandarine juice too, but that is more subdued. The arrival is more explosive with water -- a short-lived explosion that peters out suddenly. It rises from the dead to warm the gob, though, brings back warm jam or compote, and adds stewed mandarine slices, and a pinch of herbs (rosemary, hawthorn). Simply excellent. 9/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)
Tobermory 24yo 1994/2022 (49.8%, C. Dully specially selected and bottled for Sansibar-Whisky, Sherry Butt, C#10942, 78b): the age statement makes no sense, when one looks at the distillation and bottling dates. It was probably stored in an inert container for a while. Also, it seems I missed this whisky birthday by six days -- it was distilled on the 14th December. Not that it makes a difference. Nose: we have heady wine to start with, then an earthy, game-y wine sauce served with venison -- unless it is coq-au-vin. That turns to clay, mud from a farm path at first, soon becoming pottery. Next are crayon shavings, waxy and colourful. Far in the distance are ripe fruits (apples, white peaches, physalis), yet they struggle to make themselves known, eclipsed by the clay, crayon shavings, and that huge, game-y, wine-sauce layer. The second nose goes back to the initial wine sauce, serving a glass of red alongside cured meat (pheasant or wild pigeon), and lingonberry compote, on a bed of roasted beetroot slices. It is all very crimson, really. There is a drop of lemon juice here too, now. Mouth: astonishingly, it is full-on crayon shavings upon arrival, with melted wax to boot. Modelling clay, interpsersed with grated coconut, waxy nectarine peels, and a generous serving of strong-but-clean wine. The second sip seems more mineral, with slate, dry stone walls, not exactly chalky, but drying all the same. A moment later, wine-y fruits appear, nectarine peels and red-apple slices, either soaked in wine, sangria style, or themselves fermenting into wine. The whole does not shake off a lick of wax -- or is it paraffin? Finish: gentle and mellow, it is mostly sweetness, part warm apple compote, part marzipan, or part marshmallow, part cane sugar. Perhaps shallow-fried nectarine slices too, and a puzzling droplet of brine. The second gulp is bolder without otherwise changing the profile significantly. It is not exactly bursting with flavour, much less multi-faceted; just a solid, enjoyable dram. The nose hinted at this not being my thing, but it ended up very good. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, CD)
Following on from the other day's Dunglass, the brief for the day is to bring bottlings from distilleries whose name contains at least three letters that also appear in the name of a popular celebration. And to make things more interesting, we will have them in alphabetical order of the celebrations they represent.
WhiskyLovingPianist, OB, Cavalier66, BA and JS join me for an afternoon of pfun.
The soundtrack: Olympic Pool Maintenance League - Projection Set
OB presents a 42.0% whisky for 4/20. Well, his bottle is 42%; he looked it up on Whiskybase, where it is recorded as 42.0%, from which he made 4.20%. The 20th April, or 4/20 across the Pond, is World Cannabis Day, by the way. You learn something every day. It is far fetched, strictly speaking, only two characters, but it is good enough to fly.
Invergordon 48yo 1972/2020 (42%, Thompson Bros., 3 x Refill Barrels, 260b): nose: coconut-y to the extreme, until the trademark blackcurrant rocks up. Cavalier66: "If you are going to market a coconut-flavoured nail varnish, you could do worse than make it smell like this." It has a lick of nail varnish indeed, candlewax (WhiskyLovingPianist), and fruity yoghurt. Mouth: buttery, oily, coating, it is mild, with a drop of wax. Soon, lots of blackcurrants and blackberries appear. Finish: blackcurrant goodness, with a minute bitterness -- a bitterness that grows. It does not remain the juicy thing that it could have been, showcasing tannins that will prevent a higher score. 8/10
WhiskyLovingPianist: "Got some candlewax." tOMoH: "Me too." WhiskyLovingPianist: "Really enjoying the bitterness, in the end." tOMoH: "'Bitterness' is the latest word I wrote down. Get out of my mouth. Hm. That did not come across the way I thought it would..."
A turkey flies in. Trust a turkey to know a good celebration!
WhiskyLovingPianist: "It's also my birthday, today." tOMoH: "Don't ruin the surprise!" WhiskyLovingPianist: "Sorry guys, next year!"
BA: "When Berry Brothers & Rudd introduced their current bottle shape, they sent two bottles to journos and influencers." tOMoH: "And which category do you fall into?"
BA [passes the bottle to WhiskyLovingPianist]: "You know how much whisky you want to drink before you fall over, yes?" Cavalier66: "Have you seen him at Whisky Show?"
BA presents Bunnahabhain for Advent ('a', 'n', and 'bh' for 'v' -- clever!)
Bunnahabhain 1989/2015 (43.4%, Berry Bros. & Rudd bottled exclusively for Billy Abbot imported by Richards Walford, Hogshead, C#5738, 115b): nose: toasted barley, dried staves, a whiff of light smoke, and then -- boom! Raspberries. Next are ripe pineapple slices, soft custard... and new dolls (JS). Mouth: juicy, with a fruit acidity, now crisp apple and unripe pineapple. This is lovely! Finish: an unlikely mix of wood shavings, vanilla custard, raspberries, and smoked pineapple. Wow! 8/10
BA [after talking about Enigma]: "I've got some questionable music in my collection." tOMoH: "Those are not questionable. The first four albums of Enigma are great." BA: "I have the second album of Deep Forest." tOMoH: "Ah."
Cavalier66 presents a bottle known as the ABC whisky, because it contains Ardbeg, Bowmore, Caol Ila. Cavalier66 is at pains to point out that ABC is an obvious anagram, clearly not aware of the difference between anagram and acronym. Fortunately for him, BA comes to the rescue an hour later with: "Always Bringing Christmas." Just as well, because Cavalier66's back-up plan, made on the hoof, was that this is 25yo and that Christmas is on the 25th December -- in another word: dire. Not long enough to qualify either. But especially dire. :-)
tOMoH: "Such a poor show." WhiskyLovingPianist: "Sorry, I missed the acronym. What is it, again?"
Robust Smoky Embers 25yo b.2016 (46%, Cadenhead Creations, Married in Sherry Hogshead, B#3): nose: dry and ashy, with a spoonful of cranberry compote, dry earth, kelp-covered rope, and that unmistakable Ardbeg barley. There is some ink coming up, and shellac too. Mouth: syrupy, sweet. We have some rancio and a lot of earthy sherry. Mind you, there is a bit of smoke and trampled clay, as well. It turns a little juicier with each sip, though. Finish: big, cloying, syrupy again, but this time, it boasts peppermint to boot. The dryness of the earthy side grows pretty strong, and leaves the palate as if covered in ashes. A good drop. 8/10
Different food selection. Cavalier66 went for mince pies and Stollen
WhiskyLovingPianist: "Why can't you teach puns to kleptomaniacs? Because they take everything -- literally." tOMoH: "I thought I was a kleptomaniac. Then I came here, found this cake, but it was, in fact, Stollen."
JS presents Benriach, which has five letters from Christmas ('r', 'i', 'a', 'c', 'h'), and five from birthday ('b', 'r', 'i', 'a', 'h'). And it is WhiskyLovingPianist's birthday, today! What a surprise!
Benriach 27yo d.1976 (46%, Direct Wines First Cask, C#9444, b#332, b. ca 2004): nose: cut mango and warm apricot, even if they are a little diffuse. Mouth: oily tropicality (Cavalier66). It is peppery, punchy, at 46% -- lively and fruity-acidic on the tongue, where it really shines. Finish: faint metallic bitterness, and mangosteen on a background of mango and peach juices. I feared the sequence (alphabetical order of the celebrations, remember) would do this a disservice, but if anything, it is even better than before. Full notes here. 8/10
Cavalier66 struggles to shoehorn his next offering into the theme, still humiliated by his poor first effort, and his misreading the theme (anagram != acronym, and no, it is not a festive tasting where "festive" means Christmas-y). I point out that his next bottle contains five letter in Christmas.
Cavalier66 presents Kilchoman for Christmas ('i', 'c', 'h', 'm', 'a').
129.6 6yo d.2008 Peated candy (58.9%, SMWS Society Single Cask, 1st Fill ex-Bourbon Barrel, 243b): we do not often have Kilchoman, and the SMWS ones dried up almost a decade ago. It is therefore a bit of an exciting sight. Nose: ink, fishing nets, drying in the sun, and a droplet of melted strawberry marshmallow. There is also a clear smoky hue (burning hay) and tarry ropes. It turns dusty, offering wheelbarrows of desert dirt. Mouth: immensely powerful, full of embers and juicy berries, or fruit yoghurt. The embers relentlessly dominate, however. Later on, we see simmering cranberry compote. Finish: more acidic fruit, with menthol and peppermint added in. The second sip has a full tannery, with faded handbags and drying leather. It becomes a little acrid, after a while. 8/10
BA presents Glen Keith for Advent ('e', 'n', 't'), Bethlehem (Crimbo reference, 'e', 't', 'h', 'l'), tinsel (Crimbo decorations, 't', 'i', 'n', 'e', 'l'), or turkey (festive food, 't', 'k', 'e'). "I get really bored on the tube," he adds. Take note, Cavalier66! ;-)
Glen Keith 29yo 1992/2021 (46.2%, Thompson Bros., 437b): nose: vanilla pods, candy necklace, crushed peach flesh. It turns bolder and bolder, with fruit more and more exuberant, in a confectionary way, flirting with red bootlaces. Mouth: mellow, it has just a sprinkle of ground pepper on red bootlaces, and a cocktail of strawberries and peaches. It is coming pretty close to mango, actually. The second sip seems more acidic, unripe grapefruit and nutmeg competing for the spotlight. Finish: ample, fruity, soft, teeming with pulped fruit (peaches, strawberries), and a copious dose of menthol. The second sip brings back the grapefruit, and becomes drying, desiccating -- in a good way, yet that stops the whole being the dram of the day. Still, what a great drop! 8/10
Cavalier66: "'Burning Fruity Embers'. I can make 'erotica' from that!" tOMoH: "Yeah, that was two whiskies ago." Cavalier66: "My reputation is ruined!" OB: "Your what?"
Cavalier66 presents Boozy Christmas Cake for Christmas ('c', 'h', 'r', 'i', 's', 't', 'm', 'a', 's'), thereby leading the race for who will have the most letters in an anagram -- and they are in the same order too!
35.97 10yo Boozy Christmas Cake (58.7%, SMWS Society Single Cask): amusingly, BA is sporting a Glen Moray sleeveless polar fleece (35 is Glen Moray, for clarity). Nose: bile, rubber. The bile dissipates, fortunately, and leaves an assertive sherry influence. There is nothing here that says 'whisky'; instead, it is a very strong sherry. Boot polish, beaver fur, castor oil. Mouth: celery (BA), litres of Oloroso, desiccating earth, rancio, and, well, strong sherry, with its musky-earthy profile. I can feel my teeth being covered in lichen and thick green ink or marker pens. Finish: big, unsubtle. Earth, decaying grapes, ground walnut shells, thick elderberry. It is cloying, intense, adding liquorice bootlaces, black cumin, and crushed nigella seeds. Not my style. 6/10
BA presents Dubh Glas Naughty for Pudding (as in Christmas pudding, 'u', 'd', 'n', 'g') or Balthazar (one of the three wise men of Christmas, 'b', 'l', 'a', 't'). Also, this was a Christmas release.
Dubh Glas Naughty (44.5, OB, C#D-006 & D-010217b): nose: packing cellophane (JS), raincoat lining (WhiskyLovingPianist). It is indeed a plastic-fuelled nose, with melted plastic, cut plastic-doll heads, melted sunglasses and industrial glue. Mouth: fresh, but plastic-y again. Cellophane, old plastic dolls, and oilskins. Then, thirty seconds in, eucalyptus cough drops and peppermint drops. Finish: fairly short, barley-like, with a lick of plastic, and quite a lot of fruit, now. Not bad, and certainly unusual. Lots of plastic, though. 6/10
Discussing a whisky festival after which no-one is allowed to drive: WhiskyLovingPianist: "Well, no-one drives after Whisky Show!" tOMoH: "Have you ever talked to HT?" WhiskyLovingPianist + BA: "Aaaaaaaaaah!"
WhiskyLovingPianist: "In A triathlon with a shark, you're gonna win the running, but lose the swimming. So, it's down to the bike."
Glasgow Blend Limited Edition b.2019 (49%, Compass Box Great King St Single Marrying Cask selected by The Wine Merchant Ltd imported by Compass Box USA, ex-Sherry Marrying Cask, C#35, 132b): nose: subdued. The smoke is honestly tame, at this stage, overshadowed by cereal. Perhaps it has smoked orange rinds? Mouth: smoked peach slices, even mango tatters, engulfed in smoke. The second sip has a lick of sponge. How unexpected and unusual is that!? Finish: in total contradiction to the nose, the finish is big, wide, smoky. We have smoked plantain and fruit juice with a dusting of soot. Full notes here. 8/10
OB presents Karuizawa for Hanukkah ('k', 'a', 'u', 'a').
Karuizawa 33yo 1981/2014 (54.5%, Number One Drinks Vintage imported by La Maison du Whisky, ex-Sherry Cask, C#152): we had this a year-and-a-half ago. WhiskyLovingPianist was jealous that he did not get to try it; here is his chance -- and an opportunity for everybody else to try it again. Nose: surprisingly sweet on the nose, with mincemeat (mince-pie stuffing), prunes, and a touch of faint rubber. Deeper nosing reveals polished oak, and tobacco leaves (BA). Later on, we have glitter-littered purple wax, and clean sherry (WhiskyLovingPianist). Mouth: fairly stripping (not by Karuizawa standards, mind), it rubs the teeth with wine-stained bits of cork. Decaying grapes and berry liqueur make a late appearance. Finish: long, rancio-y, warming, full of red wine, it presents light tannins and alcohol-soaked mincemeat. This is a great Karuizawa in that it tastes like whisky, not Listerine. 8/10
The soundtrack: noizaddict - Man 2 Men
It is all becoming blurry
WhiskyLovingPianist presents Laphroaig for Holi ('l', 'h', 'o', 'i', or all the letters).
Laphroaig 13yo 2005/2019 (48%, Ian Macleod Distillers Chieftain's Limited Edition Collection, Butts, C#900159-900160, 1502b): nose: natural gas, vegetative, burnt lawns, dried kelp, smoked kelp, ash, lichen-strewn pear-tree. Mouth: juicy barley water, and pronounced burnt wood, cured grape stems. The second sip is fresh and fruity, with cold smoky apple compote. Finish: long, ashy, it sucks every bit of moisture from the mouth. The second sip has bits of burnt cork. A decent Laphroaig, innit. 8/10
WhiskyLovingPianist presents François Peyrot for Pyrotechnic Art Festival, in Cannes ('f', 'r', 'a', 'n', 'ç' for 'c', 'o', 'i', 's', 'p', 'e', 'y', 'r', 'o', 't'), and obliterates the pun competition. Respect.
François Peyrot Lot 60 1960/2021 (42%, OB Héritage imported by Drenth International): nose: well, it is superbly fruity, with some plasticine added for good measure. Wax, Cognac (no shit, Sherlock!), then a whiff of natural gas. Laphroaig residue in the glass? Perhaps. Mouth: juicy grapes, mirabelle plums, nectarines. The grapes are becoming clearer and clearer, juicy, fruity, acidic, and a bit sweet too. Finish: long and fruity again, slightly darker, yet still full of grapes -- now a mix of green and dark. There is a subtle crushed-grape-pip bitterness, not at all distracting. Excellent Cognac. 8/10
BA: "My knee is dodgy. When I'm standing up, I can't bend it like this." WhiskyLovingPianist: "It's an amazing bend, though."
tOMoH presents Port Dundas for Thanksgiving ('t', 'n', 'a', 's'). My co-tasters point out that it would also qualify for turkey ('r', 't', 'u'), Easter ('r', 't', 'a', 's') and Sunday ('d', 'u', 'n', 'a', 's').
Port Dundas 10yo (60.2%, Cadenhead Authentic Collection World Whiskies, 318b, b. ca 1998): nose: metal and distant coffee. Mouth: Bakelite, warm rubber. WhiskyLovingPianist reckons it smells sugary, with a sourness to it too. Finish: strangely, it is warm Bakelite and hard rubber. Short notes for today: it is late. Full notes are here. I like it better today, I think. 8/10
Excellent times as always. Silly bantz and nonsense, bags of fun.
If you think the fact that "Dunglass" and "St Nicholas" have four letters in common is a coincidence, think again.
Dunglass 22yo 1967/1990 (46%, Dun Eideann imported by Donato & C., C#1893-6): nose: we have all sorts of confectionary (sherbet, flying saucers filled with citric powder, edible wafer paper), but also crayons, and chamomile hand cream. A minute of breathing pushes it towards flowery perfume, with white lilac, kerria Japonica, wilted lavender, liquid laundry detergent and paper paste. I can already see why this has such a reputation... Further nosing reveals shampoo (Garnier Ultra Suave, which, incidentally, is also chamomile-scented), old-school hand-soap bars, the likes of which have not been found anywhere since everyone who was a grandmother in the 1980s has left this world. On the late tip, we return to confectionary, this time with chemical-tasting, chalky lemon-mint crumbles. It is really flowery shampoo that dominates, though, and for anyone who dislikes that, this will be way over the top. The second nose has traces of a faded-leather handbag (one with fringes), picks up some heat, yet soon comes back with shampoo. It feels as if wax had been added to the shampoo, yet that hardly makes a difference, really. Melted plastic and a drop of diluted nail varnish on white wood round off this nose. Mouth: Jacob Ree-ZOMG in a tutu! This is soapy and hilarious. Here are the shampoo and liquid laundry detergent from the nose, flowery and soapy, in which someone would have poured a cup of confectionary sugar. Weirdly, that makes it almost tolerable. Lemon-mint crumbles, flying saucers, lavender powder, crushed chamomile pistils, furniture polish from a spray can, golden nail lacquer (Mabelline Bold Gold), and, well, minty shampoo. Between the Garnier Ultra Suave and golden nail lacquer, it is very much a yellow whisky, to my mind, in line with a 1972 Edradour, perhaps slightly less, *ahem*, difficult. It has got some spiciness too, though it is hard to tell what. Ground mace? Sumac? Repeated sipping displays a rubbery-plastic note. Finish: long and coating, the finish reignites the Garnier Ultra Suave mood, and has less sugar than the palate -- although there is still some. The second gulp adds crushed malaria tablets, such as Nivaquine or Paludrine, which probably spells quinine. It seems cut with a pinch of sugar, and that makes it slightly less vile than those tablets. Perhaps it is Alka-Seltzer gratings, after all. In any case, it is entertaining! Retro-nasal olfaction welcomes a pinch of ash, which seems apt: if Fight Club has taught the world anything, it is that soap is made of human fat and ash. Last but not least, the ash reverts to (discreet) burnt hazel wood. Unexpected. Right, this is not that bad, but it is also not good. It does, however, procure a lot of fun. I really, really enjoy this sort of nonsensical whiskies, from time to time. :-) 5/10 (Merci St Nicolas)
La Rouget de Lisle 8yo 2007/2016 (46%, OB, ex-Vin Jaune Burgundy Barrique, 144b): nose: it feels surprisingly deep, for something that is eight years old. Oh! It is no forty-year-old Strathisla, of course. Encaustic, cardboard, dark shoe polish, dark floor wax... The emphasis is on the word "dark", really: it is seal brown or kobicha, with layers of patina encrusted in every pore of the wooden floor, in every seam of the shoes; it is a dark brown that could pass as black, depending on the lighting. Worcestershire sauce augments a spoonful of tamarind paste. The latter confers a sweet scent that grows in intensity, over time. The second nose sees a grated stock cube, dried paintbrushes (for modelling rather than decorating), and nigella seeds sprinkled onto a pot of strawberry yoghurt. Mouth: the least one can say is that the wine influence is palpable. It is fruity to an extent, in a gently-tannic way, syrupy but not cloying, and earthy-woody. We have that unmistakable combination of old stave and cork that can only be associated with wine. It feels a little light and fruity to be a claret, and actually hints at orange wine, I reckon. The second sip is thin and cool, yet the wine notes quickly sing again. There is an odd butter-cider-vinegar-and-wine-sauce dimension as well. Finish: well, that is unusual! Velvety on the way down, it radiates Sherry for a while afterwards, but also mushroom broth; the water lost by pan-fried mushrooms, or shiitake cooking water. The second gulp somehow adds baked apple to the mix, yet it is not very sweet all the same; more of a baked apple covered in savoury stock-cube crumbs. It is not exactly meaty, yet also far from sweet -- umami. Original. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, Steph2A)
Brechin 33yo 1970/2003 (52.4%, Douglas Laing The Old & Rare Platinum Selection, 479b): nose: such depth! All at once, we have old marzipan, lichen on fruit tree, dusty cardboard, dried apricots, melon-flavoured Gummibärchen, burnt wood in brine, and honey-glazed thyme branches and rosemary sprigs, caramelising in a pan. Next are Nic Nacs (which is to say biscuit and hard meringue), rancio and hawthorn. Yes, this nose turns botanical -- not as much as, say, Tullamore, yet it is certainly going the same way. Lastly, a whiff of oilskin caresses the nostrils. Is that sea breeze, on the second nose? It seems unlikely, but it is a little briny... Dry oyster shells? A pouch of Virginia tobacco? Fascinating stuff! Much later on, a gentle hand soap shows up, delicate and pleasant. With water, the nose produces warm jam (plum, apricot), and a discreet metallic touch. Mind you, I also envision those white-and orange (vintage French) Tupperware bottles and lunch boxes from the 1980s. Further nosing seems to add pan-fried earthy mushrooms to the mix, if for a second only. Mouth: acidic and assertive, it has a spoonful of apple-cider vinegar and mandarine peels staring at a dollop of wax take a bath in apple-and-lime juice. The second sip clings to the teeth like unsoftened water in a large European city (ever noticed the water is always harder in large cities?) The sides of the mouth pick up greengage -- not just the flesh, but the stone too. It turns juicy, after a minute, which is much more agreeable than the afore-mentioned limescale. We find ourselves fishing greengages out of the juice with green rubber gloves. Far from taming it, water seems to render the whisky more potent on the palate, with red-paprika powder sprinkled on juicy plums. Finish: unassuming, but actually very long and warming. It has a lick of faded leather, here, more apples (well ripe, this time), the dusty marzipan from the nose, and chunky wax beads floating in juice that may well be greengage again. There is a dusty dryness to it, a minute after the second sip, one that hints at dunnage warehouse. Each sip seems sweeter and fruitier than the previous, with greengage a definite staple. There may be a drop of mandarine juice too, but that is more subdued. The arrival is more explosive with water -- a short-lived explosion that peters out suddenly. It rises from the dead to warm the gob, though, brings back warm jam or compote, and adds stewed mandarine slices, and a pinch of herbs (rosemary, hawthorn). Simply excellent. 9/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)
