15/12/2025 Mickey Mouse

Timorous Beastie 40yo b.2016 (54.7%, Douglas Laing, 1080b, L13 0816): because the timorous beastie in question looks like (and probably is) a mouse. Nose: nostril-tickling marzipan and a dash of grape juice. Behind that are flower petals (lily-of-the-valley, jasmine) and the flowers' delicate scent, perhaps a tapenade of green olives, and jellied pistachios. That all dissipates to leave woody tones, part acacia shelves, part honey. In fact, it is very much a cough-relief infusion with honey and cinnamon, maybe a pinch of herbs somewhere between thyme leaves and hawthorn. Nothing shouts, nothing is in one's face. The nose unveils its charms calmly, confident in its qualities. The second nose has more fruits, with dried apple slices, stale candied papaya cubes, and raisins that have lost all fragrance. We also have a cardboard box, the like of which one finds as cereal packaging. Only when tilting the glass does grape juice make a comeback and provides some vitamins. Mouth: measured, the attack has conifer honey to start with, and pine needles in a clearing growing in intensity. They make for an interesting palate that balances the acidity of pine needles with the spices of the tree bark. Chewing pumps chocolate into the mix, milky, a notch bitter, and comforting. It is kept intriguing thanks to its interplay with the citrus-y acidity of pine needles. It is as if someone had blended chocolate milk with a dash of génépi, a drop of lemon juice, and stuck a cinnamon stick in it. The second sip pops open a couple of jars of jams: one is a blackberry jelly (no pips), one is a lemon marmalade. It blends a lush sweetness with acidic and bitter components, bakes half of it and blends it back with the unbaked half. The result is delectable. It feels woodier in the long run, with cassia bark and ground cloves joining the berries from earlier (remember the jams). Finish: it kicks harder than one would anticipate and makes for a good breakfast: citrus juice, honey, chocolate milk. If looking with intent, one would find pine-needles-coated banana chunks, or a nutty granola augmented with blackcurrants. Indeed, it marries nutty-woody notes, caramelised cereal clusters and a berry bitterness. That makes for a lasting, if gentle, chalk impression that accompanies a dryish mouth. The second gulp may well be sweeter. Its berries or currants are certainly riper and, therefore, less bitter, if not entirely devoid of bitterness. Blackcurrants, blackberries, mulberries, some fresh, some in jam form, all served in a dunnage warehouse. This suddenly has dusty clay floors and stacks of old staves. And dried-pineapple shavings, of course -- one finds that in any warehouse. Not. Mind you, it also has a slice of panettone, with yeast and booze-soaked raisins. Delicious! 8/10 (Thanks for the dram, OB)