30/04/2021 Dalmore

Dalmore 15yo (40%, OB, b. ca 2020): this was the starter I never tried at the Christmas bash. Nose: it smells like breakfast in a Scottish lodge; warm cocoa, a gentle fire in the chimney and corduroy upholstery. The host might be frying a cooked breakfast in the kitchen, though that does not overpower the unmistakable mix of ambient humidity, outmoded velvet and warm, chocolate-y drinks taken in a plush (if old-fashioned) dining room. There is squeezed orange too, a bowl of prunes in juice on the buffet, and open jars of marmalade, ready to be spread. The rustic breakfast table has seen a number of licks of varnish, over the many decades, and it smells of encaustic, a little. Maybe, just maybe, there is even a whisper of acetone. The second nose is all about roasted coffee beans and charred breadcrumbs. Mouth: soft and gentle, breakfast-like, the attack has velvety hot chocolate, marmalade on toast, a yoghurt-y woodiness not too dissimilar to set honey, and, as one keeps it in the mouth, a developing spicy touch (ground cumin and coriander seeds, cracked black pepper). The second sip seems to crank up the bitterness, inviting toasted aniseed and nigella seeds to the table, still only in supporting roles to the chocolate. Marmalade takes a back seat and turns into charred mixed peel, or caramelised marmalade. Finish: superbly chocolate-y, here, with an added drop of mocha -- think of Côte d'Or's mocha Mignonettes. The finish is long, laced with bitter marmalade, and that bitterness grows -- first veering towards soft rubber, then Bakelite. It has more and more toasted notes, as time passes, with charred breadcrumbs first, then black cumin seeds, then nigella seeds. It stops short of liquorice, however. A decent starter dram. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, JA)

28/04/2021 Bimber for Poland

Bimber 3yo 2016/2020 Oloroso Cask (51.4%, OB Small Batch for Poland, Oloroso Casks, B#01/2020, 950b): leftover from the Christmas bash. Nose: confectionary is what jumps at me immediately; toffee, caramel, candy apple. Shortly thereafter, it becomes syrupy and wine-y, hinting at Sauternes, Fino, or white Port. There is a pinch of delicate spices, far in the back, more cinnamon than ginger. I do get the impression I am nosing a fruit eau-de-vie, from time to time -- maybe Kirsch? Berry-flavoured cake icing, half a teaspoon of cocoa powder, dried-raspberry shavings and ananas flambé (torched pineapple, I guess). It is all pleasant, even if it hints at an exaggerated sweetness to come... Mouth: ...and overly sweet it sort of is, too. Cherry liqueur, poured on soft marzipan, syrupy wine (white Port more than Sauternes, here), candy apple is back too, and shovelfuls of cinnamon powder that almost hide a lovely peach-flesh undertone. The attack seemed spicier, yet that quickly fades out and leaves a fruity-yoghurt texture, though a yoghurt that would be mixed with a splash of fortified wine. The back of the throat picks up woodier notes, with middle-aged bookshelves and resinous oils, Maitrank and mirabelle-plum liqueur. Finish: cinnamon is quite potent, once more, leading to a sponge-cake impression -- a sponge cake with cherry, chocolate and a hefty dose of syrupy wine. I was about to write "liqueur," but it is neither that thick, nor that strong. Maitrank might be close enough, yet it would have to have had the chocolate treatment, then. That is right: there is some milk chocolate in the aftertaste, alongside mirabelle plums. Goe bezig, Bimber! 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, BA)

23/04/2021 Whisky-Online Auctions' First Cask tasting Part 2

JS and I, along with fifteen-or-so others, join Tim Roberts, Harrison and Wayne Ormerod and Lee "Connas" Connor for the second episode of the triptych dedicated to First Cask, Direct Wines Ltd.'s late collection.

Connas reminds us what First Cask was, as not everyone was at the first tasting. That takes up a whole thirty seconds or so, as the information is as scarce as it was last month.

Connas announces he took the feedback from last time on board and has a presentation to share. He apologises in advance for the fact he is not extremely tech-savvy. Case in point: his version of Powerpoint tells him that his licence has expired and offers to close that message by clicking a button -- he never does. The presentation is composed, for each dram, of a picture of the bottle, superimposed on a picture of the distillery. Connas then seemingly ad libs a little history and facts about the distillery.

I do not pay it much attention, more concentrated on enjoying the drams at my pace.

Bladnoch 16yo d.1980 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#89/591/12): nose: fresh and minty, fruity as a crisp white wine (Rivaner?), soon morphing into citrus peel. Later on, a woodier note shines through, with eucalyptus and rubbery olive-tree bark. Mouth: a surprising bite, with sparkly orangeade, which grows at the second sip. Swirling the liquid around the mouth reveals a soft bitterness and an even softer fruitiness. Finish: big, wide and orange-y, with a minute amount of grated Alka-Seltzer. It keeps the gentle bitterness, reinforcing the citrus (marmalade) and an almost rubbery woodiness. Lovely. I almost had it at 9, but for tonight, it is 8/10

Inchgower 18yo d.1976 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#9891): nose: barley sugar, apple jelly, crushed pear, candied lemon peel, lavender leaves (not the flowers, strangely enough), perhaps a note of pineapple. All in all, I find this rather herbaceous, despite the others detecting tropical fruits. Mouth: acidic attack and a lot more fruits, now, with pineapple and juicy apple, sprinkled with lime droplets and pomelo juice. Finish: bold -- no! Assertive, it once more has a softly bitter, rubbery side. Asafoetida and nigella seeds increase that bitterness. Someone cleverly mentions Campari and it is indeed reminiscent of bitter liqueur or dry vermouth. 9/10

Glenrothes 21yo 1975/1996 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#6051): nose: ah! It is a Glenrothes that falls under the category I am not fond of: rancid butter, sticky feet, chemical lemon flavouring, before sweet pot ale comes through. In the long run, the lemon-y side wins, which is good news, as far as I am concerned. Mouth: phew! It is all lemonade and chemical lemon flavouring, akin to souped-up Sprite. It is almost sickly sweet, though that is balanced by a gentle bitterness. The rancid butter seems gone. Finish: same as the palate, but even sweeter. Lemonade, in which one has poured ladles of caster sugar. Undoubtedly the weakest dram of the night, according to my taste, but still a decent drop. 7/10

Convalmore 16yo 1981/1997 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#89/604/112): there is a typo on the sample. Connas tells us this is his first Convalmore and he is excited to tick that box. Based on his post-sip reaction, that box-ticking excited him more than the dram itself, which is a pity. Nose: old school. This is smoky and hairy, boiler-room-like, with derelict garden tools and caramelised apple compote, simmering in a cast-iron cauldron. Mouth: zingy, it sparkles and tingles on the tongue. Repeated sipping makes this a full-on flat pomelo lemonade affair (pomeloade?) Finish: a lovely combination of citrus and vanilla; juicy mandarins, vanilla pods, and the whole turns creamy, towards the death. Very nice. 8/10

Glencadam 29yo d.1972 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#7639): nose; hugely vanilla-flavoured at first, with lots of custard, it then becomes weirdly farm-y, with dried cow dung and faded leather. It is not as metallic or herbaceous as more recent expressions from this distillery, even though it is also not the 1960s style. Mouth: furiously bitter, here, with lichen growing on old metal and moss on rubber joints. Cough drops, cachous... Oh! yes, this is Glencadam alright, now: vegetal, metallic and very good. Finish: a different story altogether, the finish is overflowing with melted milk chocolate, though chocolate sticking to a tin mould, to be sure. 8/10

Connas has another slide deck in which he talks about distillation. Again, I am too focused on the drams to pay much attention.

Tomatin 18yo d.1976 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#27643): nose: caramba! Tropical fruits aplenty, although that swiftly mutates into fruity/mentholated drops (dragées), before fire catches up, numbing the philtrum with verbena and fresh mint. Proper nosebleed, like. Then, the fruits come back, with peach and rosehip, dragon fruit and lychee. Mouth: it starts out bitter, then a huge wave of tropical fruits slap you in the face. It has dragon fruit, enormous peach and strawberry yoghurt, topped with nigella seeds. Finish: unctuous, creamy mashed peach, apricot custard and, quite simply, a fruity cavalcade, with caraway seeds to round it off. Total lack of surprise, as far as I am concerned, but when the quality is this high, I certainly do not mind it being predictable. 9/10

Bunnahabhain 19yo d.1980 (46%, Direct Wines Ltd. First Cask, C#5643): nose: dry earth and soft menthol, then steamed vegetables (swede?), turning back to toffee and mocha custard. Mouth: it is very mentholated. It also has a strong dandelion-stem bitterness, as well as peppermint, apple mint, crisp-apple skins and a delicate sea-air influence (sea spray, iodine, salt). Finish: complex, it swings between mentholated custard and dry moss, becoming almost mineral, then drying, with a lick of new-car rubber joints -- or is that melon skins? A more-than-decent Bunna, but to put it in simple terms: it is a sequence mistake. It is completely in the shadow of the Tomatin. 8/10

Different vibe, tonight. It felt less relaxed, and the conversation flowed less easily. Perhaps everyone was exhausted from a long week (I know I was), but it unfortunately made for a slightly-less enjoyable time. Some found the selection inferior to Part 1's. I did not share that opinion, but nevertheless...

Connas's line was also hissing during the whole tasting, which I found draining. Not sure if it was his microphone, his connection, or whatever else.

Anyway, looking forward to Part 3 all the same!

22/04/2021 Ledaig

Ledaig 1974/2000 (40%, Gordon & MacPhail Rare Old, JJ/CB): nose: heaven. At once, it is orchard fruits (apples, pears, peaches, rosehips) and haystacks, though it is not long before tropical fruits take over: waxy mango peel and papaya. Earthy peat appears in the background, subtle and elegant, but definitely present. Next up is a mixture of fishing nets, petrol and silt in a freshwater harbour. The dialogue between silt and tropical fruit strongly reminds me of the ancient thing from Tyrone we had last year. There is a whiff of nappy glue too, which is rather original, old rubber, baked by years spent on the beach, washed-out and regurgitated by the lapping. Muddy peat and tropical fruits are never far, though, and they inevitably come back, occasionally supported by berries. The second nose seems fresher, as in: sea air, though no sea spray, or brine, which points towards white-water-river air instead: brisk, but humid with fresh water. Lastly, the apples come back What a nose this has! Mouth: remarkably petrolic in the attack, it is also creamy in texture and quite peppery, considering the low ABV. Bathed in kerosene, we have sliced peaches, sliced mangoes, papaya and waxy apricots, sprinkled with cracked green pepper. A soft note of creamy horseradish-and-honey sauce come spice up the whole, served with grated lychee and a drop of lychee liqueur. In the long run, red fruits also show up (gooseberries, snowberries cranberries), juicy and acidic. They are soon caught up by petrol-stained mudflats and rubber. Finish: controlled and balanced, the finish is long, despite not being explosive; it has the same fruits, doused in petrol. I do not think I ever found this as petrolic, in the past. Freshwater fishing gear is present here too, and there may just be a spoonful of silt. On the other hand, hay has all but disappeared, and rubber is only there because it can be related to the hydrocarbon-soaked, muddy fruit. Sweet barley makes an entrance with the second sip, as do sweetened soy milk and tahini. That is right: the finish tones down the acidity in favour of a light-touch bitterness. And it is gorgeous. What a cracking dram! 9/10

21/04/2021 Glenrothes

A reliable source tells me those casks were filled at 69%, rather than the standard 63.5%. They were allegedly used as payment in 2017*, when Edrington bought The Glenrothes (the brand) back from Berry Brothers & Rudd, who had owned it since 2010 (they had a share in it since 1987). If you find it bizarre that a company should own a distillery but not the branded product of that distillery, you are not alone, but that is not the question. The point is that Edrington seems to not have been cash rich, at the time, and supplied Berry Brothers & Rudd's directors with whisky casks instead of GBP. At least some of those casks were promptly sold off, and those three found their way into Cadenhead's warehouses.

(*) It could also have been in 2010, when Berry Brothers & Rudd sold Cutty Sark to Edrington, who gave their share of The Glenrothes (the brand) in return. Perhaps BBR thought the deal was not fair, and whisky casks were added to the equation.

You would probably be hard-pressed to find an official confirmation for the above; I find it plausible, though.

Glenrothes-Glenlivet 9yo 2009/2018 (65.3%, Cadenhead Small Batch, 3 x Bourbon Hogsheads, 858b): nose: pretty new-make-y, honestly, with grain and cork-y limestone. After a bit of breathing, it does reveal ivy and sarsaparilla, perhaps thyme too, yet it certainly remains young. Lime leaves, damp sand and tobacco being dried. Cupping the glass in the hand brings about tame menthol, as well as something sweet... Fruity Ricola cough drops? The nose certainly benefits from a lot of breathing: it goes from rough and markedly underaged to fragrant and almost-welcoming, if still rather green -- it is 9yo, after all. Geraniums, tagetes leaves, rocket salad, primrose and linen. Water helps an unusual fragrance come through: that of plastic bags left in the sun. It also cranks up the raw cereal, dusted with talcum powder. In fact, I may go further and call it chalky, now. Mouth: unsurprisingly potent, it has plasticine, waxy plums, caster sugar and tons of cracked green pepper. It has an almost rum feel to it, in some respect, though it lacks the depth that a rum hitting that sort of notes would have to have. Case in point: the dandelion leaves and meadow-flower stems betray its youth. H₂O, even just a drop of it, stops the alcohol bite spectacularly, which allows other flavours to appear, mostly  primary-school-yard material, such as boot laces, sugar sheets/edible wafer paper, but also candied angelica and chlorophylle chewing gum. Finish: the obvious youth is swiftly submerged by an unexpected pairing of melted milk chocolate and ivy leaves. The sweetness of breakfast cereals is then met by an overly-caramelised note. All the same, in the long run, it is the herbaceous side that triumphs, leaving a softly bitter taste on the palate, and the tongue as if covered in lichen. The back of the throat sees herb-infused grappa, which works rather well. Here too, the addition of water boosts the sweetness. Similar sweets as on the palate now make their way to the taste buds and turn this into almost too sweet a dram, borderline sickly. The death is a soju-and-lemonade long drink with a cucumber slice. Interesting, but I find it was bottled too soon. 6/10 (Thanks for the sample, SW)