26/07/2024 Auchentoshan

Auchentoshan 21yo 1975/1997 (55.4%, OB Official Distillery Archive, C#1397 + 1398 + 1399 + 3494 + 3495 + 1614 + 1615 + 1616 + 1617 + 1618 + 1619 + 1620 + 400 + 401 + 3093 + 3094 + 3095 + 3096): we tried this one in June, standing, and rushing a bit. One has to admire the dedication of Morrison Bowmore (who bottled this when the distillery was theirs) for sticking all the cask numbers on the label. Maybe they were the source of all that deforestation (to make paper labels), and dwindling numbers of squid (to collect ink). Nose: this one is on a specific level of woody, full of encaustic and polished antique furniture of a rustic sort. We have some cut bush flowers in a vase (lilac, forsythia), and, to be clear, the woody stems come out clearer than the flowers themselves. It has some caramel too that veers towards rubber, without ever reaching it (phew). Behind all that wood-in-a-vase action, one can find boiled sweets, probably elderberry flavoured. Grumpy nosers may choose to detect cardboard and crumpled newspapers; they are in the shadow of those sweets and of the wood. Perhaps that wood comprises seeds, yet I am struggling to name them (not caraway, fennel, or lovage). Shaking the glass revives the woody tones with varnish and glue. The second nose is more-strongly caramel-y. Picture caramelised puffed wheat -- yes, like the famous breakfast cereals. Great for those who like that, borderline sickly for those who do not. Mouth: thick and caramel-y, this is probably pumped with E150a. Here are carbonyl, watered-down treacle, black liquorice bootlace in a syrup form, cinnamon-y chai. It has some kick too! The second sip seems rawer, more-uncompromisingly alcoholised, though by no means off-putting. Hot water in the coffee machine, before it even touched the ground coffee in the filter, a lick of metal, and that varnish-y-caramel-y touch we now come to expect. Maybe unexpectedly, the finish is full-on spiced tea: cinnamon, crushed cardamom, a pinch of ground cloves, ground coriander, and a generous dose of creamy boiled milk join gunpowder black tea, which makes for an earthy beverage, one served with a dollop of caramel instead of sugar. The second gulp is sweeter, warmer. One could say: more welcoming. Brown sugar crystals, set dark honey... And chai comes back, milky and spicy, and rustic at the same time. Lovely. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, Savoureur)

26/07/2024 Dailuaine

41.69 12yo d.2003 Making your mind twitch (57.6%, SMWS Society Single Cask, 1st Fill Barrel, 42b): we tried this one in June, standing, and rushing a bit. Nose: an enticing combination of wood glue, shoe glue, and pineapple juice. We have some wood spices too, milled white pepper and ginger powder. Those spices develop, more assertive with each sniff. Possibly crushed bay leaves, sumac and ground cloves. It never shakes off that lovely fruity touch (pineapple, coconut), but that goes inexorably to the back of the class... until it does not! Suddenly, about-turn! and it takes the form of candied pineapple and papaya cubes, sweet, chewy, and, well, fruity. Alongside grows a fusty note of dank-and-dusty warehouse, far enough south to catch some warmth and see condensation. The second nose is unbelievably custard-y; a custard augmented with pineapple purée and a drop of wood varnish. At one point, we have Irn Bru spilled on a newly-varnished wooden picnic table that would sit by a hedge of cypresses. Well, how about that! Mouth: sharp and woody, we have old chipboards, recently revarnished, and shoe glue. In no time, the palate welcomes sauced-up punch, sweet, fruity and boozy, and wood dust mixed with flint chippings. Granted, it is unusual, but it works a treat. Next are varnished deckchairs and ground peach stones. The second sip has a dose of citrus, softer than grapefruit, yet more acidic than satsuma; let us call it tangelo. Some of it is fresh, some candied, all delicious. Finish: warming, it has a short-lived bitter kick, then turns all fruity; warm peach jam with a dusting of ground peach stone. It is a long finish, to be sure, numbing and a tad bitter (a sensation that comes back with the peach stone, probably). Perhaps there are oranges segments with the skin on, so dry they are hard to spot, but they contribute to the big picture. The underlying note is of ginger powder, though, that surreptitiously numbs the gums. Like it did on the palate, the second sip adopts a citric quality -- more acidic here than on the tongue, closer to pomelo than it is to tangerine, though we also pick tatters of sweeter kumquats. A dash of Schweppes splashes the lot. Mind you, it still dies out with ginger powder tickling the gums. Excellent. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, EG)

22/07/2024 Glentauchers

Glentauchers 1994/2013 (43%, Gordon & MacPhail, Sherry Butts & Remade American Hogsheads, AC/ABGG): a goody from a recent(ish) past, this has spent ten years in the sample, protected by three kilometres of duct tape. Nose: powerfully fruity in an orchard way; apples, pears, greengages all sprinkled with a pinch of ash. Then, we have the trees that bore those fruits, pruned and pollarded, their cut branches speckled with dried mosses. Some of those branches are even in the fire already. A notional lime is perceptible that could easily pass for a pan-fried crisp green apple (Crispin, or the ever-reliable Granny Smith). The second nose has more of that same orchard wood, and confines fresh fruits to a wicker basket on a buffet. They are there alright, yet seem less prevalent. Mouth: and crisp it is too! Pectin-laden apples, crunchy and acidic -- so much so it makes one squint. Chewing revives the mosses and ashes from the nose, which is to say it has a distinct bitterness, but it really is a green-apple number, first and foremost (Granny Smith, of course, perhaps Shizuka), fruity and acidic. Smoked apple pips emerge, imparting yet another facet. The second sip welcomes apple belts, which spells artificial apple flavouring and sugar crystals, as well as preservatives reminiscent of citrus. Perhaps there is a sprinkle of candied angelica shavings in there too. Finish: surprisingly bold from the get-go, acidic, and peppery or juniper-y, the finish quickly becomes sweet, saturated with fruit sugars. At this point, it is close to the apple filling of industrial cakes or biscuits more than the base fruit itself. Far from a negative comment, that is merely a change in perspective. Long and lingering, it punctually breaks through the tongue's numbness to fan more sweet-apple goodness. The second gulp turns woodier: all the fruity sweetness is still there, though it is now the prize of patiently chewing rubbery tree bark or a bay leaf, as if munching on garden mulch gave one a slice of Granny Smith apple covered in sugar. A certain bitterness settles in, bay leaf indeed, or stewed angelica. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, WhiskyLovingPianist)

15/07/2024 Old Perth

Old Perth 41yo 1977/2018 (45.3%, Morrison & MacKay, Sherry Butt, 515b): a blended malt that allegedly contains Macallan and Highland Park. What could go wrong? Nose: holy molly! This certainly has the depth one would expect of something carrying such an age statement. In no particular order, we spot varnished antique furniture, glue in a shoemaker's workshop, drinks cabinets, some kind of polish (a blend of shoe-, furniture- and nail polishes, I reckon, with a spray of windscreen cleaner), and even some cured fruits -- namely berries of sorts. Those berries go from bright red (redcurrants) to deep purple (blueberries and blackberries) in less than a minute, and settle for warm cranberry or blackberry compote, or jelly. It also has a faint whisper of bitter plant stems masquerading as lacquered wood. As one tilts the glass, professional shampoo glides out, the scent that can be smelled at so many hairdressers'. The second nose has burnt caramel, slowly drying. Over time, a gentle apricot jam comes forward, augmented with a dollop of hazelnut cream. Mouth: it has a certain refreshing bitterness, part succulent-plant stem, part shampoo again. I find nothing negative to say about the latter; others might. Crushed cinnamon bark, stem ginger, more of that warm berry jelly from the nose, and older wood upon chewing. Indeed, we have propolis, and oiled bookshelves, ancient, yet in optimal condition. The second sip is consistent with the above. It is well punchy too, and one rejoices at the non-dilution. Subsequent sipping confirms the propolis impression. Finish: here too, it is astoundingly fresh, as if augmented with mint (augminted, surely). Very little bitterness subsists, and the wood, growing on the palate, is now receding. The second gulp is creamy, and a cinnamon-y profile becomes clearer: cinnamon yoghurt, cinnamon custard, cinnamon-enhanced butter cream -- that sort of things. It has just enough ginger powder to tickle the gums, almost like toothpaste. Cinnamon-flavoured toothpaste. Now there's a business idea! Yum! 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, WhiskyLovingPianist)

12/07/2024 Flanders Day

Celebrating Flanders Day like a Walloon again. Late again. (It was yesterday)

Glenalba 34yo 1981/2015 (40%, Clydesdale bottled for Lidl, Sherry Casks Finish): this one is a blend. Nose: delicate and elegant, this is an orchard experience, with apple of all kinds and in all states. Fresh, fallen from the tree, sliced, stewed, baked, roasted, pressed, and made into cider. True to apple season, it also has dead leaves. Also, wooden cutting boards, warmed by the autumn sun. Some herbs appear too, timidly; fresh sage, and dried mint leaves. The second nose has a sweeter touch, as if caramel had been introduced into the mix, or date syrup. Suddenly, something clicks, and cotton candy storms the scene. Tulip petals covered in syrup, honey, setting and crystallising. Later on, we see jelly capsules. Mouth: a small departure from the nose, the palate has noticeable cork. It is chewy, and bitter to a point. It could be rubbery plant stems, such as spurge. That is augmented with discreet apple slices, dried and chewy, and a lick of middle-aged wood -- probably a bookshelf from the 1970s. The second sip remains bitter and woody. It is not too much of a distraction, but an indication of the reason why this was earmarked for a budget range, rather than a prestigious collection. Finish: once past an initial bitter touch, it settles for juicy stewed orchard fruits, perhaps closer to poached apples than apple compote. The point is that we go back to a fruity profile and leave that cork-like bitterness in the rear-view mirror -- or do we? As the apples fade away, the mouth is taken over by a softly-bitter dryness, after all. The second gulp sees polished wood and waxy fruits (nectarines, plums, peach stones, sanded smooth and polished). In the long run, mint lozenges show up too. Repeated sipping balances that out, and we are left with an impression of cut apples resting on a wooden shelf. The nose is the strongest part, but the rest is decent too. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, WhiskyLovingPianist)

Never gets old

08/07/2024 Imperial

Imperial 27yo 1996/2023 (52.4%, Adelphi Limited, Refill American Standard Barrel, C#3411, 187b): nose: beautiful, beautiful blend of dried herbs (oregano, thyme, hawthorn) and wood varnish. It is very dry, borderline earthy, yet still appealing. We have a bunch of dried-out meadow flowers (cornflowers, daisies, clover, red campions, common knapweed), and dried carnations. Then, a fruity sweetness appears: cut Conference pears and apple slices served on slate. Speaking of slate, there is a certain minerality forming, flint chippings, or rock dust, even if that plays second violin to the newfound sugar. Pretty soon, it is wood varnish that comes back, augmented with smoked peaches, and maybe a whiff of (wood or coal) smoke coming out of a zinc flume. The second nose welcomes mellow shoe polish, and soft purple-pink pencil erasers. Who would have thought that tasting whisky would take one back to a 1980s primary school, eh? Further nosing ushers in a delicate leafy freshness. Mouth: oh! this is fruity alright. Here, we have crushed strawberries sprinkled with crystallised sugar, and a dusting of soot. Sweet, fruity, soot-y. Fascinating interplay, really. It would appear that the soot gains the upper hand, after a few seconds, with the other notes adding subtle layers of interest. Chewing brings back wood varnish -- a mere drop of it. The second sip tickles the tongue more, black-pepper style, while pushing a smoked-fruit paste into the spotlight -- smoked membrillo, or smoked-strawberry jelly. Excellent. On the palate too, leaves appear somewhat later on: laurel, bay leaves, olive leaves (who said: oleaves?) Finish: a luscious kick of milk chocolate filled with strawberry paste. The alcohol is so well integrated it goes down undetected, yet one realises quickly how quietly assertive it all is by the length -- this finish goes on and on. A minute in, a mild bitterness settles in, and we find something between black olives and rollmops brine, blended with unripe-hazelnut spread. Could it be some sort of tapenade? I can only remember one dram that gave me this impression: another Imperial, bottled by Cadenhead at 37yo, and then not every time. Repeated sipping puts the emphasis on that bitterness; it never turns liquorice-y: simply suggested rubber that does not overpower the above. Is my score a little generous? Bah! 9/10