31/12/2023 Stronachie

One last one for this year. It has been quite the run, in the second half of December, to make up for the other months.

Stronachie 18yo (46%, A.D. Rattray, Hogsheads, b.2015): nose: not exactly a talkative nose, we have here. Some lacquered wood, maybe, medlar, beechnut, and the faintest whisper of faint smoke from burning lichen-covered branches. Over time, a lick of Verdigris appears, just as shy as the rest, and dried peach slices, when one blows on the liquid's surface. Those peaches are really dry and chewy. The second nose is a little more expressive, and showcases a boiler room. Oh! it is not the Industrial Revolution; merely a dusty apparatus that provides warmth to a dwelling. That is accompanied by mild marmalade (mildmalade?), which increases the impression of an old-school dram. It has something buttery too -- perhaps farm butter spread on fresh sourdough, then, *ahem*, armpit sweat. Mouth: if 'velvety' were incarnated, this Stronachie would be it. It is ridiculously easy on the tongue, in a warm-custard way. Said custard has vanilla pods, juicy apricots, and a measured serving of cracked black pepper. Scratch that: ground black pepper. Fudge and toffee rock up, after a bit, that do not change the texture. The second sip somehow manages to combine buttered sourdough and smashed apricots, and adds a minor bitterness to it. Smoked dolmas come to mind, for some reason, yet it is not very precise. Finish: peppery toffee, gently smoked. Picture Quality Street's Toffee Penny made in a bothy. Easy, pleasing, and nonetheless elegant. As it did on the palate, the second sip brings smashed apricots into the picture, still with that veil of smoke and vine leaves, now augmented with a dash of hazelnut milk. It is a fairly-short, mellow finish, all in all. Here is a simple-ish dram that will not change anybody's life, but is a pleasant sipper for all occasions. It you are stuck at a boring New Year's Eve party tonight, you could do worse than order this. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, A.D. Rattray)

30/12/2023 Drinks with OB

We struggled to find a date for last tasting in 2023, on account of everyone having plans for the festive season. Tsk. OB had one available slot today, and we decided to have a few drinks, without a theme. When he produces his goods, it appears that the 3Ts (Talisker, Tullibardine, Tomatin, rather than the vulnerability management acronym) could have worked, and we joke we should have gone for a Tormore, a Teaninich, or a Tamnavulin to complete the line-up. But we do not. We actually have a Tamnavulin, as it turns out -- only an undisclosed one.

Not that we do not already have enough anyway...

Ben Bracken 12yo (40%, Scotch Whisky Company for Lidl, b. ca. 2007) (tOMoH): drier butterscotch, with some lichen and dried mosses. Dry white wine on the tongue, some nuts (green hazelnut, mostly). OB finds it a floral note too. It has a long, chocolate-y finish -- light milk chocolate, says OB. Full notes here. 7/10

The soundtrack: Rupture World - Xenoplanetary

Glen Grant 25yo (40%, Gordon & MacPhail, b.1980s) (tOMoH): seeing OB had brought a Glen Grant, I thought we should have a second one for comparison. OB could not remember having had this, so we chose it. It is strawberry jelly sprinkled with dust. Tame passion fruit emerges, with a lick of metal. It has a bit of rancio too, then a long and pleasing finish, lush with fruit, cherry-flavoured chocolate, and jammy compote. It was a solid 8, when we had it previously. Today, it is 9/10

vs.

Edition N° 72 19yo 2002/2022 (51.2%, Decadent Drinks WhiskySponge, Refill Hogshead, 228b) (OB): an undisclosed Glen Grant, obviously. Nose: thyme, génépi, Haribo banana (OB), chartreuse (OB). He is right, our OB: it is a Pisang/Chartreuse cocktail, this. Gentian is there too, and new hiking boots in a Penderyn style. Mouth: lively and drying, we would taste dry white wine, if white wine were strong enough to tickle the tongue in this way. It has vague hints of tropical fruits (maracuja), and, again, hiking boots -- the ones with metal rings for the laces. Finish: marshmallow (OB). Right again! Gentian-flavoured marshmallow it is. Very good. 8/10

The soundtrack: Undirheimar - Heljarrúnar

Tomatin 38yo 1976/2015 (47%, OB for Whisky Hoop, C#31, 190b) (OB): OB says he hesitated to bring this, as he did not want to offer the same things again and again. On the one hand, we only had this once, over seven years ago; on the other, something of that calibre, we may have every day. Nose: fruity chocolate in a PiM's way, some decayed tropical fruits, beyond fruitiness, and soft tan leather or suede. Over time, it becomes acidic, cranberry-style, verging towards pomegranate seeds, then passion fruit -- more and more pronounced with time. Mouth: soft as peach nectar. It is not too exuberant, but welcoming as a kiss. Chewing reveals a milky fruitiness, a blend of mango and avocado, turning more acidic (yellow maracuja), though it also has almond skins. It is strippingly acidic at second sip, like tinned pineapple gone haywire. It regroups around lush fruit, fortunately. Finish: one of those rare gigglefests. Maracuja sorbet, coconut (OB), piña colada (OB), yet I find much more pineapple than coconut. OB astutely describes this as relentlessly fruity. OB: "The passion fruit beats you up, makes you fall to the ground, and continues kicking you mercilessly." I am so pleased he procured this bottle that we were both bidding on. In French, one would call this a 'tuerie'. It is worth 9 immediately, but after some time breathing, this masterpiece weighs... 10/10

vs.

Benriach 28yo 1976/2005 (56.9%, Signatory Vintage Cask Strength Collection, Sherry Butt, C#9442, 426b, 5/0244) (tOMoH): dusty-fruity nose, with spots of decaying fruit and very-clear black-cardamom shavings. Funny: I did not spot that, earlier in the week. I fetch the tin of black cardamom to double check, and OB agrees it is spot on. The mouth is filtered apricot juice, and the finish has a light, sapid bitterness. I trip on 'sapid', and OB specifies he means it in a mouth-watering sense. OB detects a fleeting point of clove in the finish. 9/10

Benriach 5yo 2014/2020 (60%, A.D. Rattray, Bourbon Oak Barrel, C#100, 258b) (tOMoH): astonishingly, it is far from laughable, even after the previous glories, even if it is obviously not on the same level. This has some fruits and bandages, today, and is still as quaffable as the other day, despite the fierce ABV. There seems to be much less citrus than last time, which is unexpected. 7/10

The soundtrack: Keosz - Neven

Tullibardine 42yo 1965/2007 (41.8%, OB, Hogshead, C#2337, 112b) (OB): nose: wow! What a slap of buttery mango in the nostrils! How unexpected! The second whiff is full of berries jam (rasp or straw), and there is a thin veil of smoke too, before we resume our flight with mango in our wing. The juiciness of this thing is fucking ridiculous. Fruity debauchery. There is a bit of cardboard via retro-nasal olfaction that remains pleasant. Mouth: thin, acidic, and juicy. It is not berries, here, but maracuja and dragon fruit, guava and Korean pear, maybe even kaki. It loses a bit of steam in the second sip, from an alcohol perspective (we reckon it is the effect of the 5yo Benriach that is finally kicking in), yet it remains deliciously juicy. Finish: it is not powerful without being weak, but oh! so delicious. Juicy persimmons, kumquats, satsumas. The lasting impression is of a lukewarm fruity custard, or yoghurt. Incredibly good. 9/10

Glen Garioch 21yo d.1965 (43%, OB imported by AUXIL) (OB): nose: the most beautiful refined smoke, lichen and Verdigris, dusty clay floors (fusty, is it?), soot (OB), woodworm and wood dust -- not sawdust; wood so old it is falling into dust. Old cushions, or cabriolet armchairs so old the upholstery is ripped and falling apart. Smoke all but disappears, after a while. Mouth: well, the smoke is definitely back on the palate, albeit in a subdued form. We have lichen-covered trees (beech, apple tree), and fruit preserves (apple, quince, maybe physalis, with some imagination). It is thinnish, probably, yet does not seem to lack anything. Hay-based mulch, cereals, maybe. Finish: more of the same for a bit (apple, smoke), then, ten seconds in, and out of nowhere, the sternum catches fire from a heat explosion. We note a faint dry bitterness upon repeated sipping, with talcum powder sprinkled on bicycle tubes. It later becomes mellower, and produces a dollop of mocha custard and pulped pineapple, yet it is not that fruity. This is great, but does not reach the brilliance of the previous dram. Sequence mistake, perhaps. 8/10

The soundtrack: Axiome - Rmx (By Aluviana)

Talisker 20yo 1982/2003 (58.8%, OB, Refill Bourbon Casks, 12000b, b#11171) (OB): he brought the goods, did he not? tOMoH is the only one in the room who has had this, but not since 2005. Unbelievable! Nose: faint ground white pepper, and not much else, at first. I know it is akin to saying a Laphroaig tastes like TCP, yet I am not making that up. Let us give it a moment. A cloud of thick black smoke soon casts a shadow on all else, sooty, sticky, and acrid. That becomes somewhat peatier, with air-dried peat bricks stacked up by the fireplace. It smells robust and rustic, and works a treat for us country boys. The second nose has rusty, dusty metal that make tOMoH think of La canonnière du Yang-Tsé (aka The Sand Pebbles). Mouth: ha! There is a maritime element on display, here, with seaweeds soon joined by sea air and sea spray. In no time, we are munching norii in the smoky cabin of an old trawler, throwing cracked black pepper at one another. This has a rocky side too, with pumice and lava stone, quarry chippings and flint (OB, reminiscing his childhood days as a flintknapper). Finish: huge and long, yet not flashy or showy. As expected, it has pepper and smoke (and smoked pepper), but the whole is wonderfully controlled. We also see dried herbs (oregano? Sage?), and a creamy note of cold crème brûlée. OB adds that one can steel feel the butane flame of the torch in the background. This is a beautifully naked Talisker. A fat 8/10

Excellent session with a fantastic selection.

30/12/2023 Glenlivet

Glenlivet d.1951 (70° Proof, Gordon & MacPhail, b. 1970s): nose: it all starts quietly, and slowly unveils wax, encaustic, cured apricot slices, tiramisù, and Madeira biscuits. Perhaps marzipan too. It is frustratingly hard to get, today. Covering the glass for a bit helps soaked raisins and prune juice come out a bit. Something on the mineral tip too -- is it slate? Iron ore? Tilting the glass brings out a soft fragrance akin to a classy Cologne (the 1984 edition of Hoggar comes to mind).  There is also little of it, which means it is pleasantly elusive, rather than invasive. The second nose is a little louder, and shows off burnt wood and burnt jam, or caramelised compote. In the longer term, empty cardboard fruit crates come into the picture, a little dusty, and impregnated with fruity scents. There is a dash of coffee too, or chicory infusion, extremely faint. It may be mocha chocolate instead, actually. The nose ends up with a rustic air about it; the sort one would find in the kitchen of a grandmother living in the countryside: gas stove too hot for too long, food smells trapped for days for lack of ventilation, cuisine too rich, a pot of coffee, warm full-fat milk from the farm. Unhealthy, but endearing. Mouth: mellow and juicy-sweet, it has almond paste, re-hydrated currants of all sorts, a drop of melted chocolate, and mocha ice cream. The second sip is properly old school: it offers an inextricable blend of dusty cardboard, earthy coffee grounds, caramelised marmalade, and Bourbon Cream biscuits. There is a warm moka pot in there too. Chewing on it pushes earthy tones forward, mostly coffee grounds, but also black cumin. The texture started thinnish, yet turns milky with that chewing. Raisins and currants make a come-back, earthier than before. Finish: ah! This is where the fun is. It is more warming than one might have expected, and dishes out chocolate left and right. Warm chocolate milk, melted milk chocolate, chocolate-chip cookies, and chocolate custard. It has a diffuse veil of smoke too, slightly acrid, unless that is the bitterness of cocoa powder. Some burnt-wood scrapings emerge, as do caramelised (almost-charred) apricots. The second sip is coating like a chewy, rich chocolate-chip butter cookie, and leaves a soft bitterness of unsweetened almond paste. Then, we have butterscotch, raisin-topped warm custard (part vanilla, part chocolate), and fluffy pains au chocolat, with or without jam. It feels very breakfast-y a finish, in fact. A creamy breakfast. Really an excellent dram. If not paying close attention, it would be easy to overlook it as generic 8/10 fodder, but I will go higher. I simply wish it were more assertive. 9/10 (Thanks for the sample, adc, and happy birthday)

29/12/2023 Glenturret

Glenturret 35yo 1977/2013 (48.1%, Hunter Laing Old & Rare A Platinum Selection, Refill Hogshead, C#HL13323, 246b): nose: ha! ha! Lovely pouring honey and honey-glazed peaches. This smells mellow and luscious. Then, we have propolis, liquid wax, squashed physalis, honey-glazed lemon-drizzle cake, maybe some furniture wax or oil. A little later, we see darker tones emerge: oily roasted chestnuts, and pan-fried hazelnuts, and a whisper of new leather boots. It has some berries too, namely cranberry sauce or lingonberry compote, though it takes some work to unearth them -- one could say they are buried berries. An acidic note rears its head, at some point, and, although it is hard to pin down, I will venture baked yellow maracuja with some herbs sprinkled on top -- dried parsley, or oregano. Those herbs then become dried lavender coated in honey. The second nose sees honey-coated magnolia, a droplet of indistinct laundry detergent, and then that honey goodness grows into its own thing. When all has settled, we reconnect with flowery scents in the form of (faded) pot-pourri pouches, augmented with a breeze of ageing butter (butyric, innit), then dried peach slices in liquid wax. Lastly, we have dried raspberry slices, which is always a bonus. Mouth: ooft! Acidic it is, and not half bitter either. It feels as though it is melting the enamel of one's teeth. Loads of dried lavender, pot-pourri, and (green) hazel wood team up, pushed by an alcohol heat that is totally unexpected. It calms down a bit, and allows peaches to re-appear, though peach stones are clearer than the fruit's flesh, now. Honey-glazed nuts are here too, as are walnuts with their skin on. The second sip is more palatable; it remains bitterly acidic, but it is less aggressive. Tart berries surface, mostly cranberries, yet it has the odd raspberry too. We have heather and saxifrage on limestone, and nutshells, splashed with a drop of honey (only a drop, mind). Dusty shelves and nutty wild mushrooms crawl to the top, in the long run, enhanced with a spoonful of pouring honey and butter. Finish: it regains a fruity composure in the finish: Golden Delicious-apple peels work hand in hand with unripe peaches and blanched hazelnuts. Following the stripping palate, the mouth is still in shock to a degree not unlike being smacked in the kisser with an oxidised copper pan. That leaves faint notes of Verdigris and lichen in this finish, and they detract from the fruit, a bit. The second sip seems nuttier. Here are ground walnut shells, ground apricot stones, and chopped almonds. This warming finish is comfortable, in the long run, with a mixed compote of lingonberry and apricot, from which moisture has evaporated. Indeed, it is fairly dry. Even the underlying nutty current has little oil to speak of, and, if there is any honey left, it is caramelised and stuck to the pan, rather than dripping or flowing. It anaesthetises, overall, and remains bitter. However, it it a satisfying feeling. Good. It really benefits from repeated sipping. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, DS)

Happy birthday, FN!

28/12/2023 Benriach

Benriach 5yo 2014/2020 (60%, A.D. Rattray, Bourbon Oak Barrel, C#100, 258b): I said yesterday it would not be fair to have this one in the same flight, did I not? Nose: fresh and lively, it is also a little simple. Cylinder heads with a drop of lubricant so clean one would struggle to identify what it is made of, dried oats, and alcohol. Whatever else, assuming there is something else, is less clear. Rehydrated sultanas, maybe, and a disinfectant that does not seem to be tincture of iodine or mercurochrome. It becomes dry as a haystack, in the medium run. The second nose has a heated slice of cantaloupe, and newly-waxed hard floor (resin or concrete). A subdued dollop of shoe polish or Tiger Balm too. Later, we have apricot turnovers, crystal clear. Mouth: hot and green. One really has to like green pepper, because there is plenty of it on display. It has fierce citrus underneath, (Kaffir) lime, pomelo, unripe yuzu, and a mini-slice of juicy pineapple to try and balance that. We find a pinch of crushed Aspirin too that accompanies heated green-citrus peels. The second sip has some kind of plant sap and gingery peppermint sprayed with custard cream for control. It still has some citrus, yet that is now very much in the background -- unripe satsumas that have not yet developed much taste. Finish: not quite the aggression one might expect (it is still warm, to be clear), this serves more green and unripe citrus, with a tiny does of Aspirin again, yet none of the disinfectant from the nose. Repeated sipping leaves the gums and teeth all numb, and the tongue coated in a leafy, gingery paste. Retro-nasal olfaction sees a pleasant note of custard, with a dusting of cinnamon and ginger powders. This is pretty good, especially considering the ridiculous age statement. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, A.D. Rattray -- I think)

27/12/2023 Two Benriach

The BenRiach 30yo 1978/2009 (49.2%, OB Limited Release, Hogshead, C#7772, B#6, 187b): nose: what a start! We have patina on old furniture, a decades-old build-up of waxes and encaustic, honey-glazed yellow fruits (peaches, apricots, physalis, nectarines), lovely jams, and orchard-fruit preserves, sealed with a porous rubber joint. Hidden a little further are purple ink and mirabelle plums. Ten minutes of breathing takes this nose to the next level, with smashed plums and kumquats, and candied tangerine segments. It also injects something earthier into the mix, plasticine or clay pots, ready for the oven. Warming up the glass in the hand allows a beautiful vanilla custard to surface, in which lots of fruits are macerating (buttery peaches, ripe dark grapes, mirabelle plums, and purple maracujas). We then have rubber gloves, dripping clean dishwater, and candied angelica, from the tilted glass. The second nose is more subdued, with satsumas and poached mandarines, as well as tinned peaches. Mouth: acidic and stripping as dishwashing liquid (a Benriach trademark), this quickly refocuses on an implosion of tropical fruits: maracuja, shaddock pomelo, pink grapefruit, yellow kiwi. It is pretty spicy too, pumped with ground green and pink peppers. It has a distinct bitterness on top, not only that of citrus peel; also foliage (tangerine, satsuma). The second sip seems a lot softer and lusher; it has the texture of a buttery sauce, served with poached peaches. A minute later, the tongue wakes up to a more-acidic number, but it is no longer as stripping as initially. Blush oranges and pink grapefruits are balanced by green banana and papaya, augmented with a drop of plum eau-de-vie. Finish: phwoar! Citrus by the bucket. Kaffir lime, yuzu, oroblanco, pomelo, lime leaves. It is remarkably acidic, without that becoming a nuisance: it remains juicy and pleasant all the way -- merely an acidic fruit juice. It is a long, radiating, satisfying finish, by the way. Soon, galangal shavings in the back of the gob give it a calming allure. The second gulp feels more minty and creamy. Pulped papaya incorporated into a minty gel, topped with a couple of anise seeds. Lovely, lovely drop! 9/10

Benriach 28yo 1976/2005 (56.9%, Signatory Vintage Cask Strength Collection, Sherry Butt, C#9442, 426b, 5/0244): nose: against all expectations, this one is less exuberantly fruity, and what fruits it does have is berry-like (blueberries, myrtles). Chiefly, it has faded lavender and pot-pourri, dried heather too, maybe. Behind that is a whiff of dried-out downpipe residue, which is much more appealing than it probably reads. Think: compost made of tropical fruits that have completed the decaying process. In fact, from that compost, new tropical fruits are growing, more and more fragrant: carambola, longan, purple passion fruit, cherimoya. None of that is ripe yet, but it is promising. Covering the glass for ten minutes helps woodier notes surface: a drop of lacquer, mahogany shelves, powdered cinnamon and ginger... and then tropical-fruit compost re-introduces fresh fruits. Lichen on stave turns up belatedly, or caster sugar turning green with mould (yes, I know, sugar does not turn mouldy). The second nose props up a woody side, with lacquered cigar boxes and jewellery cases with velvet inside compartments. That gives the whole a fleeting aura of sophistication, until the prompt return of tropical-fruit compost. I still love that, to be clear. It is rustic as fook, rather than sophisticated, but it does not remove from the intrinsic quality. Mouth: softish at first, it kicks into gear after a few seconds. Initially custardy, it soon appears acidic (pomelo, calamansi) to very acidic (lime), to peppery (cracked green and white peppers). A powerful green halo envelops the whole thing, citrus foliage of all kinds, and that adds a bold bitterness to the acidic tune. The second sip has pineapple juice and peach nectar, although chewing on it just once brings one's attention to more-pronounced wood: splinters, mint drops, grated ginger. Citrus swiftly comes back into the spotlight: oroblanco, lemon leaves, limoncello, Buddha's hand. From one sip to the next, the emphasis shifts between the fruits themselves, and their leaves or foliage. Finish: phwoar again! A minty, lemon-y paste creates a wallpaper for the oesophagus. Apple mint, spearmint, fresh Kaffir lime leaves, pomelo zest, lemon mint (of course), and even a minute dose of peppermint. That would be the wood talking, presumably, and, after twenty-eight years in a cask, it is hardly a surprise. It is well balanced, however, fresh and lively, but composed, rather than brash and uncouth. The second sip is even better balanced, and a citrus-y custard leads the dance, with mint and citrus greens only there as backing vocalists. The woody tones are relegated to a faint note of gingery yoghurt, almost entirely overcome by fruits. Oh! yeah, it is fruity alright, and that impression lingers for a long time, because it is also a forever-finish, as long-lasting as a Scorpions farewell tour. Magnificent. 9/10

I have a third Benriach to try, but it would not be fair. Tomorrow.

Happy birthday, LS!

26/12/2023 Three Little (Greek) Pigs

For Pork Hellene, see? I will never tire of that pun. Even the more relevant, considering the samples below are from MV, who introduced me to Udo Jürgens.

You know...

Anyway, let us roll.

Port Ellen 23yo 1983/2007 (56.7%, Douglas Laing The Old & Rare Platinum Selection selected by & exclusively bottled for The Whisky Fair Bourbon Hogshead, 150b): nose: call the chimney sweep! We have a blocked chimney. And it is not Santa who is stuck in there, it is a build-up of soot. Plenty of ink too, amusingly. Is this an Ardbeg from the 1970s? We then have more-coastal notes, such as fishing nets, crab crates, hull planks, half eaten by sea salt, and a jerry-can of diesel. That petrolic side develops, and engine oil soon introduces a whole (newish) engine, all clean steel and grease. It does not stop there either: earthy scents grow in power, part rich soil, part sand patties after a black tide. In the distance, a whisper of natural gas. Smelling this, one would think they closed the distillery to curb carbon emissions! Later on, we have crusty bread turning stale. The second nose is deeper and earthier, with dried mushrooms, potting soil, and cigarette smoke. But then, we also have acrylic paint and old radiators. How interesting. Not much soot left to spot, at this stage. A couple of drops of water tone it down a lot. All that remains is a bit of smoky milk bread. It takes a while before crates of smoked haddock finally come to the fore. Mouth: rancio and dusty clay floors at first, the (strong) palate soon introduces a deluge of soot, dark, acrid, and a little intimidating. Coal dust, smog, coal stoves in need of servicing, creosote. We have little-to-no petrol, here, but tar instead, smoked black cumin, and crushed nigella seeds. A slice of lemon too, fairly discreet. The second sip is softer, fruitier (peach, nectarine, plum), and earthier. We are talking about modelling clay and plasticine, rather than countryside scents. After a minute in the mouth, diesel makes a comeback, and the fruits are torched with a diesel flame. Water adds an oil lamp to that, dusty, oily, and as if stuck in the past. Nice. Finish: the lemon is more pronounced, and it announces burnt wood and dusty wood burners. We comfortably remain in fossil-fuel territory, but it is strikingly different again: neither petrol nor coal, but wood. Burnt wood. It has some fruits, skewered and roasted on the campfire: pineapple (it has lost all its juice, though). grapefruit rinds, tart apples (Granny Smith or Bramley). After a couple of minutes, medicinal touches surface: tincture of iodine and gauze, embrocation, and disinfectants of sorts. The second sip has oil-drenched earth, and methane via retro-nasal olfaction. What remains of those medicinal touches are old bandages and an empty bottle of ether. With water, we have smoked sphagnum moss, stagnant water, and smoked bracken. It is juicier than neat, not because of exuberant fruits -- none of that here! It is simply fresh, juicy peat. 9/10 (Thanks for the sample, MV)

Port Ellen 28yo 1983/2011 (58.9%, Malts of Scotland, Bourbon Hogshead, C#MoS11011, 267b): nose: astonishingly, this one is mute as a swan. It takes a while to slowly wake up, and the petroleum products are different than in the previous dram. No petrol or oil, here; instead, we have glues and solvents. Strong-glue tubes that are easy to picture giving a cheap high in dodgy parks of big cities, iodine, gauze, and white spirit or turpentine, maybe. It has notions of seafood too, namely lukewarm oysters and empty crab shells, but they are in the shadow of that glue. In the back of the sinuses, peat patties are drying on the window sill. And that is swiftly pushed aside by gauze, tincture of iodine, and turpentine. If looking for it, one may identify melted sands (glassmaking, then), though it is less in-your-face. Later on, we spot a pot of dark watercolour, dried beyond salvaging, and ozone. The tilted glass gives a breeze of Cologne. The second nose is perhaps even muter than the first, despite having had an hour to open up. Scratching a bit, we find kerosene and detergents for hospital floors. It is reminiscent of an airport, in a way. Deeper inhaling reveals rubber boots, or a gardening hose. If there was one oil product we missed thus far, it was rubber. Well, no longer! That transforms into plasticine and window-cleaning solution, over time, none too shouty. Water unveils embrocation, old bandages, mummy wraps, and dried mosses. The odd part is that those come with stagnant water too. Mouth: chewy and unexpectedly fruitier than the first dram, it has Starburst of some flavour, but smoked to smithereens. Indeed, seconds on the palate, and the liquid unleashes so much smoke that it is hard to see past it. New linoleum, burnt linoleum, carpet glue, creosote, and a badly-tuned diesel engine. It has a drop of lime juice as well, and smoked citrus peels. The second sip is similar to a petrol station: it has got that distinctive smell that affects one's taste for the next few kilometres, and, of course, the rubber hoses of the pumps themselves. Water gives a drop of paint thinner in a pot of dark-green modelling paint. Sphagnum moss appears, after a while, smoked, yet tame. Finish: a beautiful, dancing finish that swirls about, dishing out iodine, citrus juice, and coal dust, but also a gentle (or not-so-gentle, depending on one's level of tolerance) bitterness. Here is a tractor tyre set on fire. The smoke it generates is acrid and toxic. The tongue feels as though it has just licked a tractor tyre too, albeit not one that is burning, and it is entirely coated in sticky soot to boot. Good, but honestly quite challenging. As the tongue recovers, the taste buds identify charred grapefruits and blackened pineapple slices. No point looking for any juice, here; it all looks like Los Angeles in that nightmare sequence from Terminator 2. The second sip is more welcoming, to a degree. In a charred landscape, we can now picture other things, such as grapefruits and parchments. They feel baked and recognisable for a few seconds, yet they revert back to charred paper, crumbling to dust in no time. Water brings in smoked lichens and mosses. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, MV)

Port Ellen 28yo 1982/2011 (63.6%, Scotch Single Malt Circle selected by and bottled for Maltisten Westfalen, Bourbon Hogshead, C#2860, 452b): nose: a different beast again. Here, what strikes first is heather. Not a hugely-fragrant flower field, but a heather bale, or a heather brush. Twigs doused in white wine (Grenache), pretty austere and mineral. An earthier tone develops, timid and indistinct. It is dry and arid earth, only suited to certain crops (tOMoH does not know enough on the subject to elaborate). It is hard for me to shake a mental vision of a loamy soil, and I picture a drop of lemon juice on oysters, even though it has very little to make one think of the sea. A dry fishing net in a chest in the loft, that has not seen the sea for decades, perhaps. I wonder if the high ABV makes this less expressive. Heated plastic ends up emerging, closer to Bakelite than to cellophane. The second nose brings more warm plastic, in the form of (empty) rubbish bins left out in the sun, or plastic cups for the soda fountain. There is a sugary quality to this too, melted (smoked) caster sugar, before it turns into caramel, and an ever-bigger whiff of marsh gas. Lastly, we can celebrate the arrival of fermented apples. Water increases the plastic note, and makes it softer plastic -- not quite oilskins, but closer to (new) rubber boots than rubbish bins. Mouth: sharp and precise, I think they say. In this case, that means it hits one note very clearly: lemon on scorched earth. As one gets accustomed to the fierce strength, other notes become discernible, such as hot sands and roasted peaches, then hot dusty boilers on a trawler. The second sip has spent matches -- the burnt paraffin sticks much more than the sulphur-y tips; this is hardly sulphur-y. Burnt fruit stones (peaches and greengages), as well as a tiny green bitterness. Oh! it is not dandelion stems, or anything; more smoked calamansi foliage. Repeated sipping flashes a light on exhaust fumes, and underlines said bitterness. A drop of water makes this more medicinal, with TCP and tincture of iodine next to smoked baked plums. Unusual, but it works. Finish: pleasantly fruity from the start (the start of the finish, yes?), it feels much better integrated than the palate could make one fear. Grilled pineapple comes out strongest, maybe peach is in second place. We are soon distracted by a bucket of oven-dried dredged waste, which is original enough to trigger one's curiosity. Obviously, and despite being "easier" than foreseen, the finish goes on forever. Embers, hot sands, heather brushes ready for the fire. It comes across as more medicinal than frankly smoky, and, by that, I mean numbing like anaesthetic. The tongue is a bit groggy. Understandable, when one considers the amount of alcohol in each sip. The second gulp feels peculiarly approachable, and would be overflowing with fruits (mirabelle plums, Golden Delicious apples), were it not for a dual countereffect of limestone and rubber. Cheese slates and racing racing radial tyre, we will call them. The finish has an obvious smoke too, now closer to exhaust fumes than anything more rustic. Much to my surprise, water continues the smoked baked plum impression. In addition, we have heated dusty cast iron, and an increased bitterness. Perhaps the plums were not quite ripe before baking. In any case, it stays warming and slightly numbing. Also to note is the arrival of burnt wood. 9/10 (Thanks for the sample, MV)

Science says we should try blending all three, as well as the three possible combinations of any two, but I cannot be bothered. I like them enough on their own.

Happy birthday, FH, JPH, MD.

25/12/2023 Everybody knows the answer, but what is the question? MkII (Part 2)

Following yesterday's session, we will have the remaining drams from the June 2022 tasting.

Well, not all of them: we had the Lochside three years ago, so will not have it today.

Glenugie 1970/2012 (46%, Gordon & MacPhail Rare Old, Remade American Hogshead, B#RO/12/03): nose: although this is not extremely difficult a nose, it is also not a bright and welcoming one. Haybales and butyric eclipse what fruity tones this may have in reserve. Tinned pineapple slices manage to make their way, eventually, yet the tin is as loud as the fruit, if not louder. Then, we have wet cardboard, musk, mouldy lemon peels, and whiffs of crumbly earth from a ploughed field, dried by days of sunshine. A bit of breathing really helps this (does it not always?): it becomes more rustic and reminiscent of the countryside, without being overtly farm-y. Rubber boots covered in dried mud, log piles waiting to be burnt in the stove, dead leaves, and an increasingly-pronounced citrus fragrance (yuzu, or Kaffir lime) on a tinny background. It has something more industrial too, that only awakes as one tilts the glass: rusty boilers and ancient tractors sitting dormant in the barn, rather than a polished machine, yet it has a drop of engine oil past its prime. The second nose has buttery fruits, peaches and mangoes, augmented with pink grapefruits and satsumas, stored in large wooden crates. Suddenly, a wave of rancio storms the scene, then disappears as quickly as it had arrived. Lastly, we see lukewarm rose-petal jelly, and Turkish delights. Rusty metal, is now but a fading memory. Mouth: ooft! It is a metallic attack, this, clean and bitter. It takes mere seconds for citrus peel to join, fruity, yet also bitter. Pomelo skins, lime, yuzu and oroblanco peels, but also lemon mint, which brings an additional freshness. With a lot of imagination, one may detect a fistful of desert dirt, and that is as far as the earthy notes from the nose make it. The second sip cranks up the mint to a point it becomes liquorice, or tar. That is more than made up for by the louder citrus (see above). Joining that are cut carambola, and a dusting of cinnamon powder, as well as a refined nuance of third-steep pu-erh tea. Ginger can be spotted, in the long run, doused in citrus juice. Finish: another one that is hard to pick apart, so integrated it is. It is rustic at first, displaying delicate dry earth on a wooden dining table in an old countryside kitchen (think: cottage, not stately mansion), then lots of fruits with a strong tin flavour. We have a little explosion of green-citrus peels, fresh and candied (pomelo, yuzu, shaddock, Kaffir lime), and cucumber peels. That offers acidity and bitterness in comparable measures, and it works a treat! As all that fades from the taste buds, it is replaced with courgettes, sprayed with a dash of lime juice. How original! The second gulp has citrus mints (lozenges) and a tarry freshness. It is not strong enough to be likened to liquorice allsorts; maybe aniseed? Toothpaste? Again, it works. At the death, we pick up a strong metal vibe again, that markets itself via retro-nasal olfaction, like a stainless-steel or aluminium citrus squeezer. Fascinating, even if I can imagine this is not for everyone. 9/10

Glen Grant 42yo ca.1936/ca.1978 (70° Proof, Gordon & MacPhail, SC803): nose: phwoar! This pre-war blend of marzipan, marmalade, soot, and earth is really something inimitable! We have root vegetables (carrots, sweet potatoes, beetroot) still covered in earth, and roasting in the oven, and chestnuts thrown into the fireplace. Speaking of fireplace, this smells of heated bricks and cast-iron fireplace tools. As I look for ashes, it takes a turn and serves generous amounts of warm marmalade on sooty sourdough toasts. Why we have soot on sourdough may be a good question, but considering how well it works here, a better question would be: why do we not have soot on sourdough more often? Next are chicory granules in old jars or tins, and cut grass, still fresh and juicy. Scratch that! It is pulled grass: the roots are still attached, dripping earth. And soot. More soot. Something much fruitier and sweeter comes out of the tilted glass -- is it chewy rosehip jelly? The second nose has a wonderfully weird combination of aromas that point at the complexities of human life, warts and all, rather than a purified, sanitised, or edulcorated, pseudo-ideal vision of it. In no particular order, we have sandalwood, candles, ashes, incense, an outhouse in the winter, a tin dish, scented hand wash, a dried bunch of flowers, and vase water. Reads horrible? It is anything but. Earthy notes return, just as inexorably as we will return to it. Over time, we find ourselves in marshlands, treading on spongy peat, amongst puddles. Interesting how we went from dry to moist. Mouth: incredibly rustic, this has dried dark peat by the bucket, chewy and greasy. There is still plenty of soot too, mind, though it seems to be matched by waves of fruits, now: marmalade, of course, a common marker of those ancient distillates, but also quince jelly and plum compote. As may be expected, it has a cast-iron cauldron big enough to contain the lot. The second sip seems stronger in alcohol, which is a good thing. Of course, it is only the palate adjusting. Here are tar, creosote, more soot than peat, now, faded dried ginger peels, and more marmalade, now timidly minty to boot. Or is it nigella seeds? No. Rubbed black cardamom? That is it! Rubbed black cardamom. Finish: a tranquil voice. At this ripe old age, it feels no need to speak a word louder than another, and instead presents a rich, coherent whole. Let us try and unpick the themes all the same... Old wooden chairs, jars of marmalade in the larder, a bucket of soot in a corner of the room, a stack of peat by the fireplace. Repeated sipping unlocks a toasted, earthy freshness: nigella seeds for the marmalade (or is it some kind of chutney?), warm (empty) tall milk churns, and old boilers or stoves -- heated, dusty oxidised metal, to say it differently. It is a ridiculously-long and stupidly-comforting finish that I will compare to a (great-)grandmother's kitchen: it may not be cutting edge, one may not like the decoration, one may regret the traditional character of the food made there, but it is universally recognisable as safe. This dram truly speaks of a bygone era. Trying to put words on it not only does not do it justice, it feels slightly vulgar. A philosophical whisky that has to be experienced. 10/10

We will not have the Ledaig either, today. Detailed notes here.

Bowmore 43yo 1973/2016 (43.2%, OB, 6 x Bourbon Hogsheads, C#3883-3888): nose: not bombastic at all, this is nonetheless very pretty. We have shy tropical fruits (chikoo, longan, mangosteen, rambutan), a whisper of drying nail varnish, and earthy scents, both dried mud and peat bricks dripping with moisture. It has a twist of the black-pepper mill too, that spices things up (literally), a newly-painted car body, and a crumbling ball of hardened modelling wax. All the above is subdued, which is not a problem, unless one is unable to avoid a mental comparison with expressions distilled in the preceding decade. Warming and cupping the glass does wonders: it makes the nose bolder, of course. It increases the waxy scents, and adds a delightful currant paste, as well as smashed elderberries. Not only that: hay appears too -- closer to old-school upholstery than haybales in a field, -- and wild mushrooms, as one tilts the glass. Then, it moves on to disclose honeysuckle. Woah! The second nose is punchier in terms of fruit, though one really, really needs to cover the glass for a good few minutes to concentrate the aromas. Beside that fruit (add nectarine to the lot), we also see dried peat bricks and warm wood, ready to be lit and burnt. In the long run, it is fruity yoghurt that stands out, sprinkled with nigella seeds, maybe. Unless it is peat dust. Or ashes. Or all of them. Argh! It has so many layers, all so elusive! It even has a delicate medicinal aspect: gauze, or muscle straps, very tame too. Mouth: the first impression is soft, borderline weak, but it does not take a lot of chewing to turn that upside down. In seconds, the tongue sees a procession of tropical fruits, acidic and assertive, if not remotely boisterous. Purple passion fruit, lychee, jackfruit, sharon persimmon, loquat. The second sip has the texture of mango juice, and the taste that goes with it. It is not pure mango, mind: it has yellow maracuja and mint too, that make the whole the perfect summer apéritif. It has a certain bitterness too, more watermelon rind than rubber, but still. Repeated sipping sees the emergence of candied citrus peels (yuzu, Kaffir lime, pomelo), pumped with so much sugar that the fruits are difficult to identify. Candied angelica now provides the gently-bitter touch, which is nice, and we witness a resurgence of muscle straps too. Bigger sips seem to increase the loudness of the flavours very noticeably. Finish: oh! wow, this is where it shines brightest, I reckon. Tropical fruits squashed and turned into a warm jam, spread onto a Biscotte, and served with a nip of cherry liqueur. It has something almost brandy-like in the way it delivers fruit: warming, radiating, yet freshly fruity at the same time. Grapes, cherries, purple passion fruits, blueberries, guavas, watermelons are supported by muddier undertones. The second gulp gives away a dollop of modelling wax, sprayed with elderberry juice, and rolled into smashed blackcurrants. It is bitter at all? Well, yes. We do see liquorice bootlaces past their prime (no longer as pungent). Lastly, there is a very-clear, albeit extremely-fleeting, note of dried wood (hazel or beech) that comes via retro-nasal olfaction. It comes back a little less shy, several minutes later, though not bold by any means. In the finish too, bigger gulps make a huge difference: it comes across as firm, more assertive, fruitier, and that balances the minute bitterness (tar and muscle straps) remarkably. The width of the neck gives away the secret to this precious dram: big gulps. Whatever the amount is that constitutes a sip for you, double it. It will elevate your tasting (and destroy your finances, but who is keeping track?) 10/10

24/12/2023 Everybody knows the answer, but what is the question? MkII (Part 1)

At last, some time to rerun that epic tasting.

Speyside Region 42yo 1976/2018 (45.2%, Sansibar Whisky / Acla da Fans Acla Selection, 386b): nose: hehe! The aromatic depth is unprecedented this year. Or this month, at least. It has a rich mix of oily precious woods (teak, mahogany), juicy chocolate spread, and berries compote (lingonberry, cranberry, red- and blackcurrant). There is gingerbread and French toast, in the back, which suggest a spice blend and eggs for baking, I suspect. The fruit compote morphs into elegant nail varnish, before returning to a burst of juicy berries. Darkened, overripe strawberries, served on a slab of precious wood (not a cutting board!) Plums, rehydrated prunes, fresh figs. The wood slab becomes louder with time, but remains under control. Plus, it is so elegant, it is forgiven. Fleetingly, shy tropical fruits take a peek (mangosteen, lychee, dragon fruit). Not quite so shy, actually: a moment later, it is a small parade of peaches, dragon fruits, lychees and strawberries, all pressed together for a cheeky jig. The second nose is even more expressive, assaulting the nostrils with soaked raisins, brioche, smashed raspberries on toast, and a rum-cured banana purée. This nose has fleeting glimpses of flowery fragrances too (peonies, pansies, purple tulips), unless it is fruit-scented modelling wax. In any case, it is tantalising. I think it is time to say: phwoar! Mouth: well, it is pure fruit juice, here. What is surprising is that it is more acidic than anticipated, and, therefore, drier. We have the texture of kaki fruit, which is closer to apple than peach, for those readers who are not familiar with the various types of persimmons. Chewing on it reveals a dollop of nail varnish via retro-nasal olfaction, and that, alongside a minor bitterness, takes us back to those wooden slabs (teak or iroko, now, perhaps even ebony). A dialogue between wood and fruits ensues. The second sip seems less marked by wood, and lets the fruits speak more freely -- carambola, barely-ripe guava, Granny Smith or Crispin apples in the same state of maturity, yet also tart cranberries and cherry liqueur. It is not Edelf Tropfen or Mon Chéri, but it has traits of those two. Subsequent sips are chewier, and add some kind of elderberry paste to the above. And rancio. Plenty of rancio. Finish: a palatable kick of wood (polished chestnut shells, polished-walnut dashboard). Fresh fruits are less-immediately obvious in the finish, tropical or not. Kiwano, perhaps, or pressed berries, the juice of which is served in a coppa dell'amicizia. Repeated quaffing puts the emphasis on fruits again, and it is a wine-soaked grapes, apples, orange segments, lychees, and guavas that emerge from a bowl of punch. It somehow manages to stay elegant, though; we are not dealing with a vulgar sangria. And, look! there is no denying it: the finish does have a woody bitterness to it; however, it is classy, bookshelf-grade wood, not flower stem or green hazelnut. Also, that bitterness is subdued, anyway. In fact, it is even closer to orange pith than to anything overly woody. I remember ruckus being very impressed with this, especially the nose. Well, I can see why. It is a work of art. 9/10

Inchmurrin 42yo 1974/2016 (45.2%, Cadenhead Cask Ends, Bourbon Barrel): nose: boom. An explosion. The first note is a slap of hay. Hot on its tail is ripe pineapple, part cubed, part pulped, and part baked. Those three distinct preparations are then strewn about. It also has mirabelle plums, plump peaches, apricots, persimmons (sharon, this time, the much-softer, Middle East type), and jackfruit, racing to the sinuses. We can find a subtle lick of metal too, as if all those fruits had been cut with a sharp steel blade, and yellow-tulip petals (or daffodils). Still, what easily dominates is the pineapple. Ten minutes into this, a spray of waterproofing aerosol for leather adds an unexpected layer of complexity. The next minute, that turns into sprayed mango juice. Jacob Ree-ZOMG! that nose slaps. Pineapple returns, now wearing hiking boots (which means: decaying tropical fruits; of course, you know this, since you read this blog). Newly-waterproofed hiking boots, naturally. Not much sink funk to be found, on the other hand; only fruit goodness. Oh! Purple cuberdons come out of nowhere, all of a sudden. Quite amusing, considering ruckus and I forced WhiskyLovingPianist to try a cuberdon for reference, on the day we had this dram. I had forgotten that until this smell started tickling my nostrils. Yet again, fruits take back control: pineapple, greengages, strawberries, papayas, and new-hiking-boot sole. The second nose is as fruity, yet also greener (the colour, not a lack of ripeness). Green bananas, pulped pomelo (though sweeter), clementine foliage, crystallised citrus. Looking hard, it is possible to detect a (very-)faint eggy note, quite removed from H₂S, but an acquaintance of it. It is almost drowned by the trumpeting fruits, though. Mouth: creamy, velvety as a fruit yoghurt, it does not take long to turn acidic. Oh! it is no lemon juice, but it does tease the tongue a bit. Maracuja, pineapple, rambutan... and boot sole again. There is indeed a soft note of rubber -- 'soft' as in: blink and you will miss it. The second sip brings tutti frutti in yoghurt, punctuated with fresh fruits. Fresh and a little greener, it flirts with pomelo, or oroblanco, without reaching the acidity level of those two. Yuzu it is, then. Crystallised green citrus (pomelo boiled sweets), rubbed mandarine leaves, and a tiny pinch of asafoetida complement the afore-mentioned tropical fruits. Meow. This is akin to a crossing between Littlemill and Penderyn. Finish: Like the best fruit bombs, it goes down without much noise, other than a comforting warmth. Then, it comes back to haunt you. Pineapple, yellow maracuja, smashed greengages and mirabelle plums, papaya, rose apples. How can something that spent forty-two years in a cask be so devoid of wood influences? Where are the planks, the splinters, and the ginger? Not here, that is for sure! This is as fresh as a fruit juice from an inert container. It is at the second gulp that one is struck by the absolute perfection of the balance: this is frankly acidic (those fruits), and clearly bitter (rubber boot soles), yet those two have the same intensity, and virtually annul each other in the overall delivery. For those who want to find them, they are there; for those who are not keen on either, they fade into the background. Over time, the finish seems to turn sweeter and sweeter, in a hard-candy way. Only upon moving the tongue about a bit does the already-stated rubber become more detectable. Unrestrained masterpiece from the most-criminally-unloved distillery in Scotchlandia. 10/10

Benriach 42yo 1966/2008 (43.9%, Signatory Vintage Cask Strength Collection, American Oak Hogshead, C#1019, 175b, b#12, 8/706): nose: perhaps it is less show-y than the previous two, but it is no less beautiful. This has more control and restraint, and is perhaps more intriguing as a result. Of course, it is primarily fruity: it is a Benriach from a certain era. And we are talking about purple fruits: fresh plums, plum compote or jam, plump and juicy dark grapes, blueberries, and purple maracuja. It is not simply fruity, however. The plums are part of a plum cake, which means we have cake batter in a tin -- yes, this nose has a whiff of metal. Grapes are not simply naked either: at least some are in a paste form that comes out of a tin tube -- more metal. It has something else too -- something earthier or grassier, without being openly earthy or grassy. Something that makes me think of a ball of wax, for some reason. Unadulterated beeswax, rolled into a malleable ball -- a powerfully-fragrant one. Further on, we see a decoction of purple-tulip petals, a dash of plum-and-prune juice, and I swear I spotted a pinch of soot in there too. None of the above stands out much; this is a nose that requires work. The second nose seems to dial up the fruit, with kumquat and tangerine entering the scene, and timid mint joins in, hand in hand with smashed apricots. All of that happens in a wooden shed, which is not to say it is woody (it really is not); rather, all is toned down as if unable to talk outside the wooden box, so to speak. Mouth: soft and gentle, it may show its age more than the others. It is not frail, yet it also will not try and steal the spotlight. Thirty seconds in, it does reveal itself a bit, and we reunite with plums, grapes, blueberries, and purple maracuja. The second sip is fresh, a freshness imparted by herbs: lemon mint, spearmint, dill, fresh lemongrass or fresh Kaffir lime leaves. Once again, none of that is brash; it is all subdued and restrained, and will only reward the patient analytical tasting. In the long run, cooled-down plum compote shows up, as do (discreet) aniseed, a whisper of liquorice root, and bog myrtles. This adopts a fresh and delicious earthier profile, given enough time. Finish: how unexpected! The finish is more characterful than the nose and palate suggested. The old lady still can kick! Tulips (purple), stems and all, plum and grape skins, pressed berries (the residue, not he juice). Indeed, this retains a surprising bitterness, although it is safe to assume no-one will call this bitter. Unripe greengages, kumquats come and go. This is pleasant and adequately comforting, fruity, integrated almost beyond recognition of the individual flavours, superb all round, yet it is perhaps difficult not to think this should be a little more spectacular. Fortunately, repeated sipping turns this into a force to reckon with. Lemon mint becomes more present, as do citrus leaves and passionflower. Interesting that it is the flower that comes out, now, when we had the fruit, earlier on. Speaking of fruits, some are still here, more currants and raisins than fresh plums, however, and they are complemented with a sprinkle of liquorice-root shavings. A dram that demands time and careful attention. 9/10

21/12/2023 Inverleven

Winter is here!

Inverleven 37yo 1973/2011 (49%, Chivas Brothers Cask Strength Edition Deoch an Doras, LD80819): nose: dunnage-warehouse beauty, this. Clay floors, efflorescence on the stone walls, flor on the casks, a whiff of rancio, plump, juicy mushrooms, and dark berries (blackberries, blackcurrants, Corinth raisins). We have something more vegetal too, that may hint at wilted spinach, or leek greens, yet it is so undefined it would be easy to miss. The fruits, on the other hand, become more discernible: overripe blueberries and currants, served on a slate, their juices triggering an aromatic reaction, when they come into contact with the stone. Time makes this juicier and juicier, and resolutely purple, with the occasional green flash of leeks. Cigar leaves show up too, as one tilts the glass. The second nose has gingerbread and dried/candied fruits -- mixed peel would be overstating it, but definitely currants, and cured-and-dried apple peelings, with a pinch of confectionary sugar, in the distance. Shaking the glass a bit adds a whiff of dried cranberries, and a dusting of cinnamon powder -- yum! With a little imagination, one may associate mulled wine with this. I will not go that far: it is much too elegant for that. Mouth: pleasant attack, perfectly balanced. Bitterer than expected, this palate has more green vegetables than purple berries, even if the latter do provide backing vocals. Green indeed (leeks, spinach), and with less-ripe fruits, it continues the warehouse impression, yet differently: the stone walls come out more than the clay floor. We have shiitake broth and crushed blackcurrant (not quite ripe). The second sip starts with oilskins, then moves towards candlewax. It retains some bitterness, yet that seems much less pronounced than at first. It appears a tad stronger, on the other hand -- the alcohol kick, that is. Overall, it is still berry laden (yes, Berry had a brother; no, his name was not Ben) and scrumptious. Finish: clearly a high point, the finish is all about dark berries. It is softly warming as a liqueur would be, and comforting to a degree rarely seen. Prunes, raisins, dried blackberries (fresh too, actually), blackcurrants. Even the slates make a come-back. Almost none of the palate's bitterness is present, here; only that delicate mineral touch. The second gulp is even better, if that is possible. It offers a chewy, berry-flavoured paste and chocolate-and-orange spread, alongside softly-bitterer berry skins -- imagine the residue after those berries have been pressed to extract the juice they contained. Coating, not cloying, full of currants, this is not as exuberant as some of those crazy Invergordons, but there are some common traits. Retro-nasal olfaction brings back a mild bitterness, yet it is perfectly tolerable. I am a sucker for Inverleven. A Lowlander, a closed distillery, one that is neither very well known, nor highly regarded -- right up my alley. This is one superb expression of it. 9/10

Happy birthday, PC!

19/12/2023 Springbank

Springbank 24yo (47.6%, OB for Springbank Open Day 2023, Oloroso & Port Oak Casks, 1920b): nose: an enticing rustic mix of fruity beer (borderline IPA) and cereals, likely hoppy oats. Shortly thereafter, we see a shower of ashes being poured onto said cereals; burnt apple pips, burnt citrus, charred pineapple, oat flakes, a little too roasted, grist build-up, at the bottom of a toaster... We also spot something else -- something between cream soda and swimming pool. Could it be a blend of chlorine and bleach? It has evaporated fizzy orangeade too, the syrupy residue of which still clings to the glass. Then, suddenly, it goes back to grist and ashes, and that paves the way for woodier tones. I would say ash for shits and giggles, but it is rather mahogany or redwood, at this point. That is fleeting though: soon, it resumes the orangeade thread, and goes round all of the above once more. The whole is now joined by a lactic aroma: raw milk, stale butter, or yeasty warm milk. The second nose has ozone, faded pot-pourri sachets, dried bunches of heather. It seems less talkative with extensive breathing, or maybe there is too little left in my glass. Cedar-wood sheets come out of nowhere, and join the ashes, cereals and citrus. Mouth: rustic old Springbank alright! This feels like drinking something that predates the Industrial Revolution. Boggy water, algae, silt, sphagnum moss. As one keeps it in the mouth, a certain fruitiness becomes clearer, with pink-grapefruit segments (not quite ripe), pomelo, tinned pineapple cubes, stained by the tin, kumquats, and a soft bitterness too -- quinine, maybe? It is reminiscent of tonic water, in any case. The second sip is in line, yet comes across as a little spicier (ground piment d'Espelette). To call it herbaceous would be a stretch, yet the obstinate taster may find half a crushed leaf of lemon mint, or crushed rocket. Ashes come back into focus, however, and vase water, with a dash of fruit juice. Finish: quaffable nectar, velvety and juicy. Apricots, peaches, scooped cantaloupe. That said, it has not got rid of a tiny bitterness that gives us melon skins, pomelo skins and Schweppes residue in an empty glass. In fact, if the fruit is undeniable, it is probably augmented with crushed Aspirin tablets, here, bitter and desiccating, not enough to disadvantageously counterbalance the lovely fruit, yet easy to spot nevertheless. The second gulp goes down as easily, quite simply a peach nectar that would have been cut with sphagnum-moss water from a boggy marsh. The more I sip it, the more I feel as though someone dropped a peppermint lozenge into that marsh. Not sure what went on in Machrihanish in the late 1990s (when this was distilled), but I am loving it. Although less farm-y than the first time, this one is a work of (rustic) art. 9/10 (Thanks for the sample, SOB)

18/12/2023 Imperial

Imperial 17yo 1995/2013 Iðunn (49.5%, Lord of the Drams Dram of the Lords, Bourbon Barell [sic], 131b): nose: strangely mute. Perhaps a drop of pear eau-de-vie, in the distance. It (very) slowly wakes up, and adopts a softly-mineral side -- limestone walls, sprayed with lemon juice, and warmed by the summer sun. We have a whiff of thin coffee too, and warm cast-iron tools. This one appears to require time to open up -- and, after a decade in a sample, how could that be a surprise? All the same, it does not become loquacious. Unripe Conference pears, dry lichens, a smidge of dried toothpaste, perhaps, or faded green wellies. A daft name, if you ask me: the Duke of Wellington, when he had new boots cut, could not have had rubber in mind. Twenty minutes in, the second nose offers strong glue, the sort that comes in a soft-metal tube, and that a certain tranche of the population snorts for a cheap high. Said glue has a tame (almost useless) lemon scent. Then, we have rubber boots after a trek through muddy fields, soaking in a moss-covered tub of warm water, with a splash of lemon-scented detergent. Mouth: ooft! It is not an easy one, even though it does not lack sweetness. Indeed, we have crumbly mint drops, sweetened milk and sugared almonds competing with rubber boots (newish, this time), salty liquorice wheels, camphor, thin coffee spilled on limestone, and mocha pudding. The texture is milky, and the general impression is of earthy milk -- not in a chocolate-oat-milk way, mind; more disconcerting that that. The second sip is more-firmly focussed on lemon and mint (or is it lemon mint?): fresh, zesty, and easy-going. Rubber is never too far behind, but it is also easy-going, now, neither too bitter, nor too chewy. Finish: again, the finish is mineral, with milk, mud and mint crumbles. It is a fairly-long finish too, one that provides a comforting warmth, yet an unusual one, to be sure. It becomes more cereal-y with time, getting closer to porridge, though it retains a faint earthiness that makes me think of Kahlua, the coffee liqueur. Repeated sipping enhances the dialogue between the three Ms (milk, mud, mint) and that mild coffee note, and the whole is vaguely-reminiscent of Mokatine, a vodka-less white Russian, or a caffè latte corretto. Yes, each sip renders this more, erm, traditional, perhaps. A solid, earthy number with flashes of sweetness. Good effort. 7/10

15/12/2023 Clynelish

Clynelish 30yo 1972/2002 (46%, Murray McDavid Mission Selection Number One, American Oak, 600b, b#197): nose: this has W-I-N written all over it! Myriads of aromas tickle the nostrils; beeswax, honeys and pollens, cured fruits (wine-soaked oranges, overripe tangerines), and a touch of cereals that whispers, 'grist' to the careful noser. It is also incredibly deep (in a pre-War-Strathisla way) and changing: few seconds are enough to exacerbate candlewax and charred wick, before we come back to red-wine-stained orange peels. That is not all, however: oilskins rock up, paraffin, and flayed orange segments, soaked in a bowl of top-class mulled wine at room temperature that was surrounded by smokers. Indeed, beside the clear waxiness and fruitiness is a more-discreet smoke, an afterthought, more than anything distinct and intentional. That haze of dry smoke leads us down a path of white wines, with Chenin and Sauvignon coming to mind, slightly unexpected, after that luscious fruit. Soon, we are back in paraffin and new-candlewick territory -- a waxy one, sometimes hinting at a mirabelle-plum tart. The second nose is more-boldly fruity, and yellow fruits are of course loudest -- mirabelle plums, peaches, yellow-kiwi skins cast a shadow over blush-orange segments and overripe pineapple cubes that come dusted with ash. We also detect cinnamon and charred ginger shavings, which, with the afore-mentioned honey, give a hot-toddy feel that is rather seasonal. Eventually, a faint whiff of strawberry bubble gum can be noted. Mouth: The attack is fleetingly juicy, but soon shows its true colours: spent wick, dry white wine, warm candlewax, and citrus hues. Orange peels are here, merely sprayed with (white) wine, this time, and they provide a softly-bitter nuance that adds complexity. Said orange comes with foliage, come to think of it, somewhat underlining the bitterness. Mostly, though, this is akin to chewing on a candlestick. Fat, chunky, coating, it has lost nothing by being reduced (to 46%, mind), and, again, it speaks of times more ancient than 1972, even it it lacks marmalade and tin caps to be mistaken for a pre-War expression. The second sip appears waxier, still, golden modelling wax and floor wax. We keep the candlewick, intact, this time, which is to say paraffin-y, and it comes alongside waxy apricots rolled in ashes, simultaneously surprising and delicious. That triggers salivating, a bit. Finish: cut apricots and dried peaches, served on a metal plate, sprinkled with pollens of all kinds. It is sweetish, yet has a mineral dryness too, as well as a soft, magnifying bitterness. Long, not invading, characterful, not brash, this here Clynelish exhibits a wonderful balance. A couple of minutes after swallowing, ground fruit stones emerge (mirabelle plums, peaches), enhancing the bitterness's resolution without coming too close to crushed green hazelnut or dandelion stem. The second gulp showcases a minty gel that quickly brings back juicy yellow fruits (plums, apricots, yellow kiwi), as well as more-tropical ones (somewhere between unripe sharon and overripe kaki, and papaya, in the virtual absence of pineapple, as opposed to last time). As a result, what could have been a fierce peppermint falls in line, and becomes a gorgeous yellow-fruit purée, juicy, sweet enough, augmented with cinnamon powder and a crushed mint leaf. Masterpiece. 10/10

12/12/2023 Cameronbridge

This one was featured at the after-party of Silence is Golden. I never got to try it then, busy as I was tidying up. WhiskyLovingPianist later gave me a sample to right that wrong. How kind is that?

Cameronbridge 40yo 1982/2022 (50.1%, Whiskybroker.co.uk, Bourbon Barrel, C#8277, 215b, b#137): nose: it shows some obvious signs of being a grain, such as wood varnish and distant turpentine, yet also another facet, somewhere between toasted oats and chicory granules in their plastic jar. Scratching the surface, we find mugs of cooling chicory infusion, pouring honey on lukewarm porridge, and tote bags of large homegrown onions, brown and rustic, the kind that would last the whole winter, stored in the cellar. Here is a blast from the past! This is no lively grain at all; it is all about the slow, inexorable passing of time, and it is rather calming for it. Brown toasts and onion relish on the kitchen table, still with that chicory haze floating about. The second nose has some kind of spread -- neither chocolate, nor Marmite, but something in between; some nut, maybe? Walnut spread? Chestnut purée? I reckon roasted-chestnut purée alright, doused with Brazil-nut oil. Mouth: at once sugary sweet, chock-full of pouring honey and Golden Syrup, and acidic to the point of polishing the enamel of one's teeth. Swirling it around the palate gives it a more-traditional grain profile, with encaustic, patina-covered armchairs, and thick beeswax, yet also a more-flowery touch: chamomile and forsythia to paint it yellow, and dandelion stems to supply some bitterness. We still have lukewarm chicory too, and that is also rather bitter. Finally, a touch of middle-aged wood adds some depth. The second sip is in line, with maybe more emphasis on the wood: one might picture the freshly-restored wooden hull of an antique ship, which is to say: old wood bitten by sea water, wood varnish, and bitterness. It is pleasant and reassuring, at any rate. Finish: warming and comforting, it glows like liquid gold. Warm honey from forest trees of a dark kind, dark furniture polish, and metal tools, warmed by the fireplace, and left on the wooden mantlepiece. The second gulp dials up the sweetness of dark honey, now adding a clearer pine-tree provenance to the sap harvested by the bees who made the honey. That means it is fresh and nose-cleansing, as well as sweet and acidic. This is no Gocce Pino -- no! It is more subtle than that, but it is related alright, a distant cousin. A thick, honeyed, sweet dram that will effortlessly warm up one's soul on a gloomy winter's day. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, WhiskyLovingPianist)

11/12/2023 Highland Park

Highland Park 15yo 2006/2021 (55%, Duncan Taylor The Octave, 15y in Oak Cask + 5mo in Octave, C#5032775, 88b): nose: toffee, melted butterscotch and rum-soaked raisins give a mince-pie impression that is particularly adequate, given the time of year. In fact, it is mincemeat or black-pudding stuffing through and through, with mixed peel, sultanas, and a binding gravy made of yeast, flour, and spirit -- closer to Cognac than rum, come to think of it. Fruit brandy(grapes)-infused toffee, resting on a Teflon tray. It has but a minute note of wood, hardly more than a ghost, really, before gently settling for cooling porridge. The second nose is deeper and earthier, flirting with damp coffee grounds and plump wild mushrooms. Mouth: a lot sweeter than expected, almost dripping with maple syrup (or is it Golden Syrup?) that suddenly morphs into... whisky! What I mean by that is that it becomes that generic alcoholic drink that populated every drinks cabinet in the late 1980s, early 1990s. One point for time-travel, zero point for character. It is as bland and, frankly, unpleasantly unremarkable as they come. Maybe there is a mild lick of wood, armchair style? The second sip is earthier, just as the nose was. It has cold coffee and liquorice bootlaces that become liquorice-root shavings over time, roasted aniseed, cinnamon splinters, and few nigella seeds. It is also rather potent: numbs the taste buds alright. Finish: it picks up in the finish, thankfully. Here, we have a pastry-like sweetness, and, if it does not turn into mince pie, it must fall somewhere between raisins, candied figs, and blackcurrant-flavoured chewy sweets. The second gulp is fresher: it adds a minty toothpaste or mouthwash that coats every pore of the mouth, and rightly alters the sense of taste as a result. in the same way that brushing teeth or using Listerine alters one's taste so wildly that eating straight afterwards is a bad idea. This is drinkable, but not something that I would rush to acquire. 6/10 (Thanks for the sample, Whisky-Online)

26/11/2023 James Bond

Two dates in the whisky calendar count more than others, for die Heimatgruppe: Burns' Night, and dom666's birthday bash. Today is the latter. There is even a (manageable) theme, this year. (Remember last year's "theme"?)

For practical reasons, he hosts at adc's again, and if we have to regret the absence of Gaija, STL, Bishlouk, and kruuk2, we should have plenty to drink with what Psycho, PSc, red71, JS, dom666, ruckus, adc, sonicvince, and tOMoH have brought to the table.

A lot, obviously.

PSc quickly declares that there is no link between his first bottle and the theme, but that he wanted to bring said bottle out of curiosity. ruckus carefully studies the label and tells us the whisky was matured in a barrel. Close enough to Barry, for John Barry(l), who composed the James Bond theme.

Whisky Ardent (40%, OB, Banyuls Barrels) (PSc): nose: Stroh (PSc), burning alcohol (red71), apple turnover (Psycho, who just had one for breakfast). I find it a bit green, with a rubbery touch at the back of the sinuses. Mouth: sugar (PSc), cough syrup (adc, PSc), ye olde sweet shoppe (PSc). It is very sweet indeed, with caster sugar turning mouldy green, and medicine capsules. Finish: incredibly close to cough syrup, sweet, vaguely liquorice-y, and teeming with a minty gel. Not exactly a legendary dram, but a decent enough starter. 6/10

[dom666 talks about his collection of glasses to ruckus]
tOMoH [to ruckus]: "You can stop him, if it's not interesting."
ruckus: "There you go."

ruckus [about his recent travels]: "I've been back for two days."
adc: "Where were you?"
ruckus: "Gujarat."
tOMoH: "Le pays préféré des femmes. Parce que, là, les goujats ratent."

sonicvince arrives, delayed by train disruptions.

PSc presents: Dr. Knockad-No. And, if that does not Knockan-do it, PSc has prepared a list of (Knockan-dodgy) alternatives:

• A Knockando to a Kill
• Licence to Kill a Knockando
• Knockando Another Day
• Quantum of Knockando
• Knockando Royale
• No Time to Knockando
• A Knockando is not Enough
• Knockando Never Dies

Ahem. Let us stick with Dr. Knockad-No, shall we?

Naturally, the cork breaks, and PSc outsources the removal to me. I manage like a pro. Not my first.

Knockando 12yo 1987/1999 (43%, OB) (PSc): nose: "it smells of tissue," says sonicvince, who just blew his nose. Sugar and lemon, lemon vanilla, followed by a thin veil of sooty smoke (or smoky soot). Later, we have boiled-sweet wrapper, though not the sweets themselves. Mouth: oily, yet also mildly acidic, a mix of vanilla-ed sugar and lemon zest. The second sip has a  gently-drying touch. Finish: soft, mellow, and elegant, with a very-mild bitterness of lichen on copper. Mostly, it is a lovely butterscotch-y affair. 7/10

dom666: "There is still a bank branch there, I promise you. It's an ING."

tOMoH: "Just like your jersey."

red71: "This is a nose that has body."

tOMoH presents the actor that will forever be associated with the role of the famous spy: Se-an Cnocery

an Cnoc 13yo d.1989 (46%, OB Highland Selection Limited Edition, b#1375) (tOMoH): nose: dusty, herbaceous (sonicvince), dunnage warehouse, musty clay floors, old books in the loft (red71), hay (adc), rancio. adc finds the alcohol very present, at first. In the long run, we have dried pomelo zest, and a salty tang. Over time, farm-y tones appear, farm paths and muddy fields. Mouth: liquorice (dom666), syrupy, after a couple of sips (sonicvince). I find it oily, with the bitterness of olive pits. This is well integrated, and balances that soft bitterness with a delicious sweetness -- honey-glazed almonds, perhaps. It seems woodier at second sip, and reminds me of spelt seeds. Finish: chewy liquorice sticks (dom666 and sonicvince), vanilla ice cream (adc). It is a nice mocha cream by my account, though one that works perfectly for me. Nuts, almond shells, Brazil-nut shells, creamy black tea... It is warming, honeyed, and simply excellent. Wow! Looking forward to spending more time with this one. 8/10

Food enters the scene.

Salt-and-pepper leaven bread rolls

Regular leaven bread rolls

Flandrien Grande Réserve

Comté Grand Cru

Gruyère des Grottes

Calvamembert

Epoisse

Crémeux affiné à la liqueur de noix

Reblochon fermier au lait cru

Saltufo

Boar pâté

Duck mousse

Venison pâté

Pear, apple and grapes pâté

Pâté crème (not pictured)

Chanterelles pâté

White pudding
White pudding with cabbage
White pudding with leeks
White pudding with hazelnuts

sonicvince presents: Moonarranker

Arran 10yo (46%, OB) (sonicvince): note the absence of "Isle of", or even "The" and "Malt". This is just "Arran". It also has an address in Dublin, which is certainly a way to distribute into the rest of the EU, post-Brexit. Nose: smashed overripe banana (soncivince), solvent (red71), porridge, and even a hint of brine. Later on, we have Custard Cream biscuits, coupled with candied lemon peels. Mouth: golden fields of barley, and a velvety texture. It is lively, but not overly so. I have a strong note of pepper, though I reckon it is from the (insanely-good) bread. It is drying and spicy over time, giving out ginger and lemongrass. Finish: powdered ginger and ground pepper sprinkled on lemon-y custard cream. Perhaps it has a pinch of dried sage too? Arran. Great quality, even at the entry level. 7/10

tOMoH presents: Inverleven Let Die (yes, I also believe we have had that before)

Inverleven 37yo 1973/2011 (49%, Chivas Brothers Cask Strength Edition Deoch an Doras, LD80819) (group): I will take notes another time. Too busy eating and enjoying the company. Nose: very, very, very good (red71, sonicvince and ruckus). Mouth: acidic sweets (Psycho). Finish: pecan nuts, cashew nuts (Psycho). 9/10

dom666: "God knows all. People from Antwerp know better. (Traditional Antwerp saying)"

The next two both require careful intervention

dom666 explains that everyone knows James Bond, and wonders: "Is he Still Secret?"

Is he?

Secret Stills 01.01 50yo 1955/2005 (45%, Gordon & MacPhail Secret Stills, Sherry Butt, C#1312) (dom666): I am under the impression we have this one fairly often. And then this very blog reminds me we have not had it in five years. Ahem. Nose: well, each time we try this, it has that incredibly-deep layer of shoe polish, precious woods and wood oils, evaporated cola, concentrated wood extracts, and class. Jägermeister (ruckus), wood smoke (red71), boot polish, and... warmed-up black-bin bags. Yes, seriously. It is even pleasant. Thirty minutes later, a bold wave of chocolate mousse mixes with the boot polish. Hours later, all traces of alcohol have made way for concentrated eye makeup and mixed peel. Mouth: sweet and pumped with iodine (adc), it also has musk, rancio, and leather (of course). The second sip unleashes liquorice bootlaces, or soft tyre. It is mellower, later on, with wax, and earthy, citrus-y notes. Finish: Black Balsam (ruckus), Koskenkorva Salmiakki, Angostura. It is long and spicy (ground galangal, sumac, ground cassia bark), more minty, in the long run, and softens, over the space of several hours, though it retains a clear earthiness, with potting soil and coffee grounds. I would give this masterpiece the top score, but it has that liquorice bitterness that I am less fond of, so no. 9/10

vs.

Secret Stills 01.02 21yo 1986/2007 (45%, Gordon & MacPhail Secret Stills, First Fill Sherry Butts, C#1361-1363, 1860b) (dom666): nose: close to hard-boiled egg and vinegar. It is not really sulphur-y, this time, which is great news (we had this once, before this blog existed, and, as can be deduced by the high fill level, we did not like it that much). A touch of butyric, or Parmesan, fusty cheese rinds, and very-dry bunches of flowers. Mouth: wow! Unexpectedly fruity, it has candied apricot and dried peach slices. The second sip is drier, giving ground peach stone, still with tatters of fruit clinging to the stone. Finish: it has a clear smoke that envelops bold fruits dunked in tar. This is so much better than any of those amongst us who have tasted it remembers! It went from a tarry sulphur ball to a gently-smoky, fruity number. 8/10

Spot the difference

Brittle corks, those two

Psycho: "Speculation, which is now called Biscoffication."

PSc accidentally knocks my glass of 01.02, and I end up licking the tablecloth. JS does the same with the milk pot. Perhaps I should drive.

Time for dessert.

The famous (and very light) chocolate bomb

Looks just as rich when cut

ruckus introduces: Daniel Craigellachie

JS and I: "Oh! It's not for Asta Martin?"

Craigellachie 8yo 2013/2021 (61.3%, Asta Morris, Refill Sherry Cask, C#AM067, 706b, b#367) (ruckus): nose: hugely animal from the off, leathery, musky, full of horse saddles, suede game pouches, fox's skins, and Iso Betadine. Mouth: medicinal and very strong. It has dried bandages or gauze, and a sweeter spot. It is pretty fierce, though -- punches a hole into the tongue. Finish: powerful and pungent, full of old, faded bandages, and stale medicine tablets. It is, naturally, very long and invading, a steamroller of a finish that numbs the tonsilses. Boom. 7/10

JS tells everyone that: You Only Glenlivet Wice

sonicvince [looking at the label]: "It is not for Quantum of Sole US importer?"

Glenlivet 26yo 1968/1995 (52.1%, Signatory Vintage selected by, bottled for and imported by Whyte & Whyte for The Spirits Library, Barrel, 95/137) (JS): my full notes are here. For today... Nose: so fruity (sonicvince), maple syrup (adc), tree grille (Psycho), lychee, and a whiff of coffee. Mouth: monstrosly fruity, today, choc-full of rehydrated raisins, figs, and prunes. Finish: more raisins and figs, but also blueberry, now. This easily tickles 9/10

red71 stands up with a cheat sheet. He explains he struggled with the theme, but picked this bottle up, added all the numbers on the label, and reached 4663. With that number in mind, he gives us a charade.

1. I am often stored in a box
2. I am a concern for public health
3. In many countries, one needs a licence to use me
4. I am often associated with steelworks
5. My shape was improved in the XIXth century, benefitting from successive inventions
6. I have played a major role in armed conflicts throughout History
7. I often play a crucial role in police investigations
8. I am a small and hard object, often made of lead, copper, or steel
9. I am thrust at high speed, and my movement is triggered by a chemical reaction
10. I am used in conjunction with another invention that changed the course of History

We guess correctly that red71 is talking about a bullet. He tells us James Bond has dodged 4663 bullets in his career to-date. Or, indeed, 4662, but this will be the 4663rd, he adds.

True, or is red71 full of shit? Who cares? He proves, once again, that, if you say something with enough conviction, someone will believe you. :)

Dodgin' bullets for a livin'

Old Pulteney 2004/2020 (55%, OB Single Cask exclusive to Premium Spirits, American Oak ex-Bourbon Barrel, C#235, 240b, b#039) (red71): nose: salt, iodine, wax (red71), tea cake or gingerbread (Psycho), minty lozenges, and coffee beans. Mouth: hugely honeyed, which is one of the distillery markers, of course. Honey-glazed nuts, then, quickly, behind a strong spicy feel, we have the vivid bitterness of almond skins, stripping the teeth. sonicvince says vanilla, on the other hand. Further sips have Corinth raisins, and ground nigella seeds. Finish: huge, softly salty, full of honey and chocolate milk. Repeated sipping brings  out almond liqueur, spicy, bitter, and injected with sugar. I love it. 8/10

adc observes that one of the James Bond Girls was played by Halle Berry (Bros)

Halle Berry Bros & Rudd

Glenburgie 1983/2011 (56.3%, Berry Bros & Rudd Berrys' Own Selection, C#9806) (adc): an old favourite, this. Nose: wide, metallic, herbaceous, with a whiff of mocha chocolate. It is sweeter with time, thanks to the addition of a spoonful of caster sugar. Mouth: creamy, nutty, it has fresher fruits too, though I am too busy socialising to make note of them. Finish: long. 8/10

Psycho presents: Auchentoshan Connery

Auchentoshan Connery

Auchentoshan 17yo 1999/2016 (55.5%, Cadenhead Small Batch, Bourbon Hogsheads, 498b, 16/199) (Psycho): another one we have not had in years (seven, to be precise). Nose: a dose of mint, and a lick of metal. In fact, after a while, it comes across as flinty, or marked with ground coffee, then dusty, butterscotch-y caramel. Mouth: flint dry, yet also caster-sugar sweet. It is very pleasant, leaning on the silky side, in terms of texture, yet it stops at oilskins, which is much more rubbery. It scrapes my mouth like windscreen wipers, while remaining sugary sweet, in a rum way. It emits a numbing, if comfortable, radiating heat. Finish: a bulldozer, it has a long finish that feels like a rum's, with coagulated lumps of caster sugar covered in lichen, and stored in a copper container that is also starting to oxidise. Subsequent sips are mellower, and immediately sweet, like a kouign-amann, or even a caramelised lemon-drizzle cake. Yummy! 8/10

Psycho: "dom666, do you have a glass?"
dom666: "Of course. And since I don't do double-fisting..."
ruckus: "That's my glass."

tOMoH presents; Casino Royale Brackla

Only dom666, JS, sonicvince and red71 have this one. The others sadly have to get ready to leave. I will have it later, when everyone has left.

Royal Brackla 16yo 1970/1986 (57%, OB imported by Zenith, 3600b, b#0471): I take no notes (I have done so before), but it is astonishing to see how well it performs, even in this unfavourable position. Truly a work of art. 9/10

We have no time for the final two drams, but it does not stop sharing the connection to the theme.

tOMoH presents a whisky matured in a table-beer cask. Probably a blonde-table-beer cask -- a James blonde-table-beer cask. Full notes here.

Or is it this guy?

This is Q

sonicvince presents Laphroaig Quarter Cask, celebrating the character Q. No-one tries it tonight.

It is late, people are leaving to catch the train (the last one, in some cases), and I am exhausted, struggling to take notes while socialising. Bah.

Excellent tasting. Great whiskies, food, and bantz. I am simply sad it could not go on for another couple of hours. I am also sad we could not use the following puns

• Ghosted Reserve (for Spectre)
• The Glen Spey Who Loved Me
• St George Lazenby
• Two Longrow Never Die

Next time, eh?