30/05/2025 Laphroaig Day

Is it today? No, it was on Tuesday, the 27th. Well, today seems like the right day to try this bad boy. Hard to accept that the latest time we celebrated Fèis Ìle was five years ago, when the real event did not happen.

Laphroaig 31yo 1966/1997 (49.6%, Signatory Vintage Dun Eideann bottled for and imported by Divo, C#1095, 280b, b#226): curious how both Dun Eideann and Signatory appear on the label (the latter on the back), seeing as Symington uses Dun Eideann for markets where Signatory cannot go. Nose: o-o-f-t! Even though it is far from boisterous, it is immediately recognisable as a great drop. It emits scents of mosses and moist peat, bogland and fruits, such as wild raspberries and blueberries, but also melon and papaya. It is easy to detect a clear note of smoke, grey and acrid, yet that is fairly subtle. In 1966, Laphroaig was importing malt from the mainland to complement what they were malting on site, and their supplier(s) never managed to hit the same specs as the distillery. That is likely why this and other expressions from that era are much less in-your-face than similarly-aged expressions released today, that were made with malt from Port Ellen. The longer it sits in the glass, the ashier it becomes -- and the more tropical too! Indeed, the berries become kumquat, dragon fruit and chikoo, Korean pear and persimmon, the juices of which somehow ended up in an ashtray, blended with a dash of vase water. One could say that is the bogland from earlier, taken to the next level. The second nose seems more straightforward, with benches made out of orchard-tree wood, and the carpenter's workshop in which he smokes. Then, unannounced, a bowl of fruits comes back, some fresh, some roasted, some honey-glazed, some sprinkled with ash. Deeper nosing turns those fruits a glossy scarlet, similar to a cherry about to pop, or candied apples, almost heady. That also adds a whiff of cordite, which is unexpected. Later yet, we even spot a note of waxy plasticine. Mouth: ooft! again. Without being strong in alcohol, this somehow feels burning. That does not mean it lights a fire on the tongue; more that it is like having embers in the mouth. Ashy, smoky to an extent (with zero acridity, mind), yet also very, very fruity. Raspberries, blueberries, Korean pears, roasted snakehead fruit and dragon fruit, chargrilled lychee, and the minutest drop of pineapple juice. Chewing stirs up some more smoke, which is now darker than on the nose (no pope, then). All that makes it easy to miss a discreet resurgence of vase water. The second sip is more acrid and acidic. It briefly shows brine from a jar of pickled lemons. Even minor chewing takes us back to the fruity uplands, with ashy Korean pear or guava, carambola with a veneer of lichen, and tamarind -- phwoar! Later on, there is a dollop of tame violet-flavoured candy paste, as if such a thing came out of a tube. Finish: elegant and rustic at the same time, this is a finish worthy of a black-tie shindig in a barn. On the tables are bowls full of berries and tropical fruits, while a fire in the hearth is roasting other tropical fruits, and the smoke from it is slowly impregnating the wooden chairs and tables. We have women in evening dresses wearing chic perfume, and men in dinner jackets gathered around ashtrays. The whole atmosphere is smokier and smokier, if still refined, yet that does not eradicate the gorgeous fruits. The second gulp sees a partially-burnt mahogany cabinet, orchard-tree-wood planks also partly consumed by flames, a pinch of white ashes, and subtle fruit. Now, we are talking about peach, persimmon, perhaps apricot. Once more, some are fresh, some are chargrilled, some are roasted, most are juicy. In the long run, bogland and mossy moor join the party -- a moor that would have been scorched, then subjected to rain for several days, and is consequently gorged. Masterpiece. 10/10 (Thanks for the sample, CD)

Happy birthday, PS!

23/05/2025 Littlemill

We are breaking a cardinal rule, here, that says one must not have a Littlemill, the quintessential breakfast dram, after midday. And it is the afternoon. tOMoH expects a call from the Littlemill Police. Or from the Swissky Mafia, at least. Fingers crossed they bring Littlemill.

Littlemill 16yo 1991/2008 (50%, Douglas Laing Old Malt Cask 50°, C#DL4064, 276b): we have had this multiple times, but never on its own -- and not in many years. Nose: this, to me, explains why Littlemill was on no-one's radar until around 2011: at sixteen years of age, it has few of the fruity markers that longer-aged expressions released later became famous for. Instead, this has ground stone, cast-iron filings, and, shortly thereafter, nuts. Nuts aplenty! Walnuts, hazelnut, almonds. Only with persistence does one pick up crushed Aspirin, which is a distillery regular. This one is much closer in style to the 8yo and 17yo official bottlings from the late 1990s or early 2000s than it is to the 20-30yo independents that came out since. Once it has had a few minutes to breathe, it does become more orchard-y, with cut apples and unripe quince in a dark-wood fruit bowl. Bruised red apples and heated butter knives follow, soon met by piping-hot thick custard -- a nutty custard, that is. Deeper nosing adds more wood. The second nose welcomes a pouch containing oily light tobacco and something golden, perhaps a glass of natural pressed apple in a field of barley on a sunny summer day. Mouth: creamy in texture, it has unsweetened almond paste and lukewarm fruit yoghurt (orchard fruits). Chewing opens the door to a softly-metallic heat, a fistful of bitter walnut shells, crushed Aspirin tablets, and oily fruit-tree wood -- cherry tree, pear tree, plum tree. In other words, we do find some fruit, albeit submerged by bold, oily wood, which gives a pronounced bitterness. The second sip seems fruitier and, therefore, more acidic. Apples turn crisper, tarter: crab apples, Crispin, Granny Smith, Honeycrisp, now in a mesh bowl. Yes, it remains gently bitter, even if Aspirin is less loud, and makes way for hot fruity custard. Finish: it is in line with the preceding; oily wood, bruised red apples, walnut shells, walnut oil and mahogany all end up in some kind of thick custard that is then heated, and eaten with a metal spoon. Only very late does grated Aspirin timidly speak. Hot chocolate-and-almond milk leave a gentle impression. The second gulp too is more acidic, with underbaked slices of tart apples (not baked long enough to erase the tartness) and a sprinkle of grated Aspirin. If grapefruit peels and pith can be made crispy, the result must taste close to this. Over time, it manages to be both juicier and chalkier or bitterer, which is quite an extraordinary achievement. Maybe it is reminiscent of Indian tonic with fruit juice? In any case, the whole falls somewhere between old- and new-school whiskies, and it is commendable for that. It is also delicious. Just not tropical as some of the longer-aged expressions can be. 8/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

19/05/2025 Balblair

Balblair d.1989 (46%, OB): nose: how strange! Today, this has a mix of sliced apples and briny sea air. Soon, that is matched by a note of leather polish (a Chesterfield sofa comes to mind), and lime peels in an empty cocktail glass. If looking stubbornly, one will certainly detect a drop of orange juice too, yet that is so discreet, it is easy to overlook. Then again, leather sofas and oranges, albeit peels, often go hand in hand. It smells heady and robust, which is a bit of a surprise, perhaps. Rancio and cardboard stored in a damp-ish cellar emerge slowly but surely. The second nose is sweeter, with fruit jellies and those candied mint leaves they use to top a rum baba. There is a whisper of lukewarm diesel-riddled sea water, as welcome as it is unexected. Mouth: oh! yes, definitely oranges. This is faintly bitter, actually, and dry too. That would point at well-dried orange peels, rather than the fruit's flesh. At a push orange syrup, or thick marmalade, but certainly not juice, Chewing gives drier notes yet, desiccated mushrooms, oily old newspapers, maybe cardboard. Nuts seem to rise, after a while, oily and bitter -- almonds, hazelnuts, Brazil, macadamia, -- with a splash of orange liqueur. The second sip is even bitterer, though it does not lack in the sweetness department: candied angelica and Mandarine Napoléon fight for dominance. Finish: nuts and oranges to a degree, but, strikingly, whatever it is, it is enjoyed in a leather sofa, outdoors, facing the sea. Indeed, this claws back its briny sea air, and it is actually saltier than it was on the nose. All the same, at the death, it is fruity again, and sweeter too -- orange jellies, most likely. The second gulp has a fresh bitterness to it, which seems to confirm candied angelica. Fortunately, it is nowhere the bitter intensity of Salmiakki, yet the well-travelled taster may spot a resemblance. Yup, the orange bitterness is hesitantly heading towards that of liquorice and camphor. Thankfully, it never goes that far. This is pretty good. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, kruuk2)

16/05/2025 Spitfire

Highland Park 1961/1997 (48.1%, S & JD Robertson Group The Dragon, Hogshead, C#4493, 216b): this one is not an undisclosed malt that everyone knows to be a Highland Park: it clearly states its provenance, as do all bottlings with this version of the label. Nose: and it is an immediate phwoar! We have, in quick succession, rancio, bone-dry smoke, split granite and associated chippings, and the darkest raspberry coulis known to Man. It feels at once welcoming and austere, mineral and fruity, dry and pleasant. Picture a campfire delimited by stones, just as they are depicted in the comic books from your childhood. In that fire, heather brush is consumed by flames, turning into embers and white ash, and emitting a clean, dry smoke. On that fire, you are heating squashed raspberries in a tin. A pile of old logs are ready to fuel the fire. The logs have started to decompose. This nose is an incessant ballet between those notes: one moment, one is slapped on the nose with an empty tin; the next, one is chewing raspberry gum. One second, it is dry pebbles; the next, it is the smoke of a heather-brush fire. It is hypnotic, really. It develops a faint whiff of old tyre, in the long run -- very old! The second nose enhances the rancio, a floating scent of berries and woodworm. It ends up adding talcum powder too -- unless it is cold dry smoke or quarry dust. Finally, we spot nail varnish, applied (on nails), then torched. Mouth: it is a similar story on the tongue; it oscillates between smoky-dry and juicy-metallic, goes from mineral to fruity, hot to fresh. Chewing reveals cinnamon to refresh the palate with a wave, but also adds the fruity bitterness of vine. In fact, we see smashed green grapes peppered with quarry dust. The second sip has rehydrated dried raspberry slices, concentrated, juicy, and a more-generous billowing smoke (clean, dry). Furious chewing stirs up the vine again, yet most of the related bitter aspects have vanished. Over time, we find a less-intense version of a Boule Magique, meaning some fruit (berries), some spices (cinnamon, candied ginger), and a thick, creamy texture. Later yet, it is chewy citrus peels that surface: pink grapefruit, tangerine, mandarine, orange. Finish: perfectly balanced, in terms of ABV, it has smashed raspberries, quarry dust, numbing, almost medicinal cinnamon powder, and a a minute puff of smoke. Hardly any metal, at this point. tOMoH cannot explain why, yet it is somehow reminiscent of thick-cut potato chips with a sprinkle of malt vinegar and a tiny dollop of mustard. Perhaps it is the mouthfeel? The second gulp brings cranberries into the picture, acidic, juicy, and neither bitter, nor sweet, yet not completely devoid of those two traits either. Could it be citrus pith? Retro-nasal olfaction picks up spongy turf, mulch, or wood so old it is decomposing into a rubbery mess. This is a work of art. 10/10

09/05/2025 St Magdalene

Souvenir from Limburg. There is not much left in the sample, but hopefully we can get an idea nevertheless.

Linlithgow 30yo 1973/2004 (59.6%, OB, 1500b): nose: there is an immediacy that comes with a Maggie, something that promises a good time. This is no different. Fields of barley in the summer, after the harvest, roasted cereals and a puff of thin smoke. That smoke turns to light cigarettes (best guess is hand-rolled Virginia tobacco) and limoncello, would you believe it? Indeed, behind the oily, warming tobacco is this crisp, fresh fruitiness that acts as a counterbalance. True to its provenance, the nose brings forth delicate mineral notes too -- flint, granite, or a bowl made of polished black marble. A bowl? Nay! A holy-water font that would have been cleaned recently with lemon juice. The second nose sees a plastic planter in a greenhouse, filled with soil, though not a single flower yet. Mouth: ooft! Powerful, of course (the ABV!), but precise, focussed as a neurosurgeon (one hopes, at least!). Here are, in order of appearance: chewy sweets, quarry chippings, droplets of lemon juice, and, upon chewing once (just once, mind), a cloud of smoke. Chew more and it is all sorts of sweets that show up, chiefly the chewy kind, red and yellow (Rhubarb & Custard). Surprisingly, that is all that seems to remain, after a while, those sweets, although they are supplemented by purple cough drops. That might simply be the infinitesimal quantity that is to blame. It becomes darker and earthier with time -- not liquorice, but berries, certainly. Blackcurrant drops, if not blackcurrant-flavoured Lemsip. The second sip is more-openly flirting with purple cough drops, possibly coming too close to chewy violet sweets for some. For tOMoH, it is simply magnificent. Finish: we pick up more traditional St Magdalene notes, here, with a serving of stones, a spoonful of soot, a bunch of (unidentified) dried flowers, and the same cough drops we had on the tongue (blackcurrants again). It sports a non-negligible bitterness, yet that is hardly a turn-off. The second gulp is perhaps earthier; dry peat with lots of tangled heather roots, and a few berries or currants, squashed. The berries shine brightest at the death, supported as they ae by a thin layer of melted milk chocolate. Gorgeous dram. 9/10 (Thanks for the sample, GN)

Hard not to remember how cavalier66 painfully claimed this here Linlithgow was the worst thing he drank at Whisky Show Old & Rare 2018. The above note is confirmation that he knows nothing on the subject a reflection of the quality of those other things he tried that weekend that were even better to his taste.

Happy birthday, Bishlouk!

06/05/2025 Industry Giants: Sukhinder Singh at the SWMS

Here we are again, for a tasting led by The Whisky Exchange's founder. With me are PS, DW, GT, YM, JMcC, JS and many others I do not know.

SS: "I became a member of the SMWS in 1989 (or 1990?) I loved it. This was heaven. I have amassed a huuuuuge collection of SMWS bottling, including most of the .1 [releases]. I think I am missing maybe twenty. By the way, if you can help me find them..."

Dram #1

Nose: lights, fresh, it has a whiff of pine-scented paste, not far from Gocce Pino, if less intense. There is also a fruity custard in there, or fruity yoghurt, and a dusting of confectionary sugar. Lemon-scented hand soap grows in intensity, soon followed by ripe-citrus segments covered in dust. Mouth: it is warm and pine-y, and it has a good dose of boozy cereals. That, in turn, is augmented with dried apple slices. The second sip is fruitier with little of the grassy-metallic profile I associate with the distillery (we have been told, by now). Finish: we are told the ABV, but, if the number is modest, this kicks booteille. It has ether and a vaguely medicinal note, closer to surgical alcohol than gauze or tincture of iodine. Perhaps we find dry Bourbon-cask staves, which is to say white-wood shavings, and a whiff of blond-tobacco smoke via retro-nasal olfaction.

Glencadam 11yo 2011/2022 Parcel No.10 (48%, Elixir Distillers The Single Malts of Scotland Reserve Casks) 7/10

Dram #2

Nose: ooft! This smells creamy. Caramel-flavoured whipped cream, melted chocolate, an emulsion of sorts, and crumbs from a crushed pine cone. It turns more pine-y with each sniff, then adds crystallised tangerine segments. We spot dried mushrooms and nuts upon second nosing. Mouth: extremely fruity, here, it has maracuja, mango -- phwoar! It dabbles with spices too, and the second sip comes with a pinch of chopped green chilli. Mostly, it keeps shouting cut maracuja and runny persimmon and peach, however. Finish: an explosion of tropical fruits in the finish. It kicks like a young'un, but mostly, it is wave after wave of tropical goodness. In the long run, those fruits are presented in a plastic container, which is an original take. Wow.

Tormore 23yo 1999/2023 (54.5%, Elixir Distillers The Single Malts of Scotland, Bourbon Barrel, C#5173, 197b) 9/10

YM [about the Tormore]: "It is the poor man's 117.3."

Dram #3

Nose: are the drams related, or do I have a one-track nose? (I have a nasty cold, so do not answer). This one is drier, with cocoa-bean shavings and tree bark, yet also a touch of pine scents, just like its predecessors. It turns woodier with time, and something else happens: Dextro Energy tablets emerge, fruity and chalky. Strangely, adding water increases that chalky impression, and adds a whisper of soft-boiled eggs. Mouth: a little syrupy and chocolate-y. In truth, it is a cascade of melted chocolate. Rich, coating without being cloying, it has oily nuts too. The second sip is dripping with chocolate. Water does not change it dramatically -- perhaps it gains even more chocolate, in a sauce form, now, then as a coulis, which is less thick -- at least in my mind. Finish: more chocolate coulis, melted chocolate ice cream, chocolate spread on plain crackers... Oh yeah! The ABV is quite impossible to guess. Good integration. Sukhinder declares it very fruity. I heroically guess the distillery (with a subtle hint).

71.106 11yo d.2012 Bellinis and bouquets (60.6%, SMWS Society Cask, 2nd Fill ex-Bourbon Barrel, 242b) 8/10

PJ: "We will have a short recession before the second half."
Punter: "Recession?"
PS: "Thank you, Donald Trump!"

Dram #4

Nose: this is flowery as a scented shampoo, yet it does not have the soapy bitterness that usually comes along. Forsythia and kerria, both kept in a plastic vase. Indeed, there is a lot of plastic action, as well as hot beverages. It also has a lick of fruit-tree wood. Mouth: waxy, polished. Here are physalis, greengages and Mirabelle plums, none too ripe, and even a drop of lemon juice, given time. Much later on, we have sawdust mixed with dried citrus zest. Finish: pepper and marmalade, squashed yellow fruit not quite ripe. It is long, loud, fruity, with a shy-but-clear bitterness. It lacks personality for my liking, perhaps. Later on, we find a fruity heat that is quite staggering.

Linkwood 14yo 2008/2022 (53.2%, Elixir Distillers The Single Malts of Scotland, Hogshead, C#804632, 153b) 8/10

SS: "Here is a clue: it is a Diageo distillery."
punter: "Does it have a visitor centre?"

Dram #5

Nose: expensive leather, faded suede, game bags, rancio, perhaps roast beef, and a whiff of soft smoke. Repeated nosing brings shards of glass, a woodworm-eaten wardrobe and ground wood spices (cinnamon and dried ginger, naturally). It then turns towards drinks cabinets, before welcoming touches of lychee, much later on. Mouth: wow! It is a lot smokier on the palate, with a whisp of mint and crushed pine cones. The mint morphs into a minty paste, fresh and lively. Oh! and this burns too, to be sure. Finish: big, it has a spoonful of honey, the smoke of a dried-herb fire, and a certain fruitiness -- roasted apples and quinces. The smoke persists, yet it is but a component, at this stage.

4.387 14yo d.2009 Sweet smoky dreams (62.4%, SMWS Society Cask, ex-Bourbon Hogsheads + 1st Fill ex-Bourbon Barrel Finish, 228b) 8/10

Dram #6

Nose: ah! It is a rum. Full of glue, the kind that works less well for me. Despite trying really hard, I struggle to find anything past that glue. Melted plastic tubes and oilskins -- heaps of oilskins. Mouth: oilskins to the brim, with a fistful of dried pineapple cubes thrown in for shits and giggles. It becomes drier and more drying in subsequent sips, sucking moisture from the gob like hot shrink wrap. Finish: more plastic, its bitterness somewhat balanced by caramelised sugar and darkened burnt apple tart, until that turns into torched molasses. This really does not do it for me.

Black Tot Master Blender's Reserve b.2023 (54.5%, Elixir Distillers) 5/10

Sukhinder is very excited by that rum. He explains how old sailors contacted him in waves (see what I did?) to sell him their Navy rum (the one they received a ration of when on a ship), how that was the best rum he had ever tasted, and how Black Tot is the brand under which he sold that Navy rum. The current batches aim to replicate the profile, since the original stock is depleted or close enough, and rotate between the production of various countries (Guyana, Jamaica, Trinidad, Barbados, Granada). It is an excellent story; I simply do not enjoy the rum very much. Others do, much to my relief. I will not have to force it down.

GT: "The ration was a quart a day..."
tOMoH: "Which quantity did you say?"
GT: "A quart a day."
tOMoH: "You're telling me the sailors were given a litre [of rum] a day!?"
GT: "And a gallon of beer."
PS: "Two pints a day. We conquered the world with it. We just don't remember how."

The tasting ends. Some people leave, some stay for a chat. At some point, I need the loo. PS exits as I head in.

tOMoH: "Fuck you!"
PS: "Later. The invoice will be enormous."
tOMoH: "Unlike your dick."

(Yes, it is late.)

We talk about concerts. Kiss, Queen and others.

YM: "I wasn't cool enough, back then, to go to those shows."
PS: "Back then?"
tOMoH: "Hate to burst your bubble, but..."

On the way out, we spot MJ and IR downstairs, which prompts warm greetings, and delays the walk home. Fortunately, I know better than to share another dram with them. ZzzZzz. :-)