13/11/2026 Glengyle

Kilkerran 8yo b.2025 (57.7%, OB, Bourbon Casks, B#12, 25/240): nose: wash and a vaguely-vinegary cream, yoghurt turning sour, soured cream. Something dry turns up too, hay bales or compost, after weeks of shedding its moisture. Next are oily tobacco leaves, and that transforms into a mix of orange peels, decaying pineapple slices and smoky engine grease. Pineapple becomes louder, supported by cow dung in a pasture. The second nose reveals a woollen blanket that has not been washed in years. Mouth: crisp, juicy, fruity. Chewing injects acid into it -- lactic acid, but also a fruit-related acidity. It may even be maracuja and carambola, bright and delicious. Tame smoke lurks in the background, cigarette or smouldering ashes in the fireplace, but those fruits dominate easily. The second sip welcomes dried mango slices, dried apricots, and only a dusting of ashes. The fruits seem fresher and juicy again, while the ashes are more abrasive. Finish: a little unpolished, a tad abrasive. It makes the gums slightly numb, puffs a whiff of fruits, then lets cigarette smoke linger for the longest time. Not sure this is appealing to non-smokers. It is sticky, acrid, impregnating. It reminds me of stepping into a cold room in which someone smoked the previous night. Retro-nasal olfaction detects cut pears laid on rocks, with lichen taking hold and cold tobacco ashes dotted around. The second gulp brings about a cleaning product or another, windscreen defroster or all-surface kitchen spray. Dried pineapple gets into the frame too. Love the palate on this one. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, SOB)

Kilkerran Heavily Peated b.2026 (58.3%, OB Small Batch, Bourbon + Sherry Casks, B#14, 26/56): nose: earthy and gently smoked. Heavily peated? Not really. Let us give it a second to warm up... Yes: warmer, it exudes dark, greasy earth, a pat of modelling wax, grilled pineapple, mud full of cow hoofprints, drying under an autumn sun. Earthier yet in the second nose, it adds charred wood doused in pineapple juice and burnt paper crumbling to blackened tatters. It somehow maintains a certain fruity freshness until the end. Mouth: creamy, velvety, it pushes warm custard, chocolate pudding, and beaten egg whites. Chewing confirms the heavily-peated claim: suddenly, the palate is overcome with dark, greasy earth, thick black smoke and soot. Pineapple milkshake stubbornly walks into the frame, but it is not the star of the show. Toasted (charred) cereals rock up too. The second sip has juicy fruits, smoked and soot-y, dark peat. Drier smoke takes off, over time, burning pine trees. Finish: huge, soot-y and smoky, charred and acrid. Here are pineapples roasted into a pile of black dust, Terminator-2-style, charred cherry-tree wood, soot, stove pipes, a chimney sweep's van, in which he smokes rollies. Adventurous minds may detect bacon charred to black smithereens. The second gulp is close to scorched earth that has somehow kept some moisture, under a veneer of ashes, soot and torched lichens. This has good parts, but it lacks subtlety for my personal taste. The fruity notes are promising; the peat is a distraction, as far as I am concerned. 6/10 (Thanks for the sample, SOB)

12/11/2026 Longrow

Longrow 100° Proof b.2025 (57.1%, OB, 60% Refill Bourbon Casks + 40% Refill Rioja Casks, B#2, 25/223): nose: crisp and fresh. One would have expected a big pile of farm-y peat, but it smells as though the red-wine casks had a major influence to play, because it is mostly grapes that come through (Crimson seedless, Red Globe, or Autumn Royal -- I dread to write 'Koshu', but it could be it). Oh! there is earthy peat and a whiff of smoke alright; but the fruity freshness is much more apparent, like a rosé wine enjoyed with a platter of smoked prawns or shrimps on the waterfront. That last part grows: without turning into a maritime number, it has traits that remind one of a fishing harbour: sea breeze, fishing nets, crab trap baskets and the day's catch, perhaps a few drops of diesel in sea water. The second nose is more mineral. We have quarry chippings and stones from a dried riverbed; lichen has started to grow on them. Later on, we find rose petals fallen onto dried earth. Mouth: it really is rosé wine. Soft, sweet, fruity, a little acidic. Crimson grapes, definitely. Chewing turns this upside down: suddenly, it is very smoky and farm-y (farm paths, rather than manure), presents shiny hot metal and burning vines, before coming back to rosé wine. The second sip is heavier and more acidic; Crimson grapes and their skin, some not too ripe, some starting to ferment. It betrays its strength too as it properly numbs the taste buds and lips. Later on, we find a drop of eau-de-vie on a black-pepper-flavoured nacho. Finish: that rosé wine is still present, still fruity and acidic. Perhaps it is a red wine, after all, but then it is one that is heavily cut with water. The smoke is very tame, now, reduced to a heap of ashes that somehow coat the roof of the mouth. We still find wine via retro-nasal olfaction, this time a light and fruity red. It has traces of cow dung at the death, fleeting, hard to spot. The second gulp feels close to a strawberry liqueur without the syrupy sweetness. Freeze-dried strawberry slices and a strong red wine, or a heavily-watered-down and thickened eau-de-vie. It develops a pronounced saltiness in the long run -- anchovy crisps sprayed with red wine. This is alright, but too wine-y for this taster. It reminds me why I never bothered with Longrow Red. 6/10 (Thanks for the sample, SOB)

11/11/2026 Glen Garioch

Glen Garioch 52yo 1973/2026 Chapter Thirty Three (53.2%, Decadent Drinks Whiskyland, 1st Fill Sherry Butt, 240b): nose: once past manure and smashed prunes, this is akin to a stroll in the woods aisle of a large DIY store. So much dark woods and oily ones of all kinds, teak oil and lacquers! Pull the glass further away, come back to it, and it is exactly the same succession: a punch of manure, intense soaked prunes and dried figs, then fragrant wood, calming. With a bit of patience, black shoe polish ends up in the picture, oily chestnuts, a drop of cola and cigar leaves, yet wood and manure are never too far. Shaking the glass is like stepping into animal faeces in the forest; it smells of poo, but it is the excrement of a mammal with a healthy diet of grass, bark and leaves. To wash that away, one has sprayed it with cola. It has a whisper of tawed leather, in the long run. The second nose brings back the manure; for a second at least, it is close to walking into a pasture, or the farmyard of a cattle-rearing concern. Soon, and as is now expected, it morphs into dried fruits (prunes, figs), rehydrated to a point, to end in the DIY warehouse again, smelling the various woods and wood-care products. Ground sumac makes a late entrance. Very far in the back, a Bolognese ragù simmers away, caramelising a little. Mouth: it starts off drying as an Oloroso (what a surprise!), until one realises dried fruits are right there, ready to take over, chomping at the bits. It has a gentle spiciness, part cassia bark, part bay leaves. Chewing changes that dramatically: tar-black liquorice rolls invade, supported by a dollop of mentholated filling cream. Then, rubbery black shoe polish, burnt tyres and warm Chinotto join, augmented with a pinch of ginger powder. It is drier and bitterer with each sip, to a point it is hard to decide whether it is even pleasant. I mean: it is a spoonful of creosote on a pat of shoe polish. It takes a certain type to appreciate. The second sip has black-and-pink peppercorns (perhaps something for Blackpink to promote?), followed by prunes and liquorice, as if melted and blended together. There is an intense scorched-earth note and an old walnut wardrobe saturated with creosote or another such product. Retro-nasal olfaction detects something weird, between Jerusalem-artichoke cooking water and rotten wood. Finish: woah! Bold and assertive, it has a very-earthy profile, with scorched earth, shoe polish, liquorice bootlaces, black-cumin seeds soaked in hot water with raisins, pots of torched modelling paint, tar, creosote and old woods that include charred ebony. One may spot coffee grounds that have been torrefied for too long, or 100%-cocoa-content chocolate (yes, it exists: Ghirardelli makes it; probably others do too). The second gulp is big, woody, earthy and petrolic. It is now less scorched earth (even if there is still some at play), more oil-soaked earth dug with a wooden shovel. That earth is then flame-dried and becomes immensely drying and bitter. Rubber made dry and hard by years in the sun, prunes and dates so dry they are closer to stone than to fruit (watch your teeth!), gunpowder black tea and, as a bonus, rotten wood (ebony or walnut). Super interesting, but I do not think this is a good whisky. The nose is heavenly; the finish is a challenge; the palate is in the middle. 7/10

10/11/2026 Deanston

Deanston 18yo 1994/2012 (57.3%, Cadenhead, Butt): nose: past a brief crisp introduction, it becomes very oily; virgin olive oil, sunflower oil, a drop of walnut oil, orange oil. Cupping the glass to warm up the liquid allows oranges to come out more clearly and, if it never turns into a fruit salad, we certainly enjoy that brighter citrus note which goes almost as far as Triple Sec. This has something remotely musk-y too, too vague and far away to pinpoint. The second nose has a fruity white wine that seems sweet enough to be Maitrank or yellow wine, then it flees back to oily walnuts. There is a fresh nuance as well, leaves that have just fallen off the tree. Mouth: Triple Sec it is, sweet, fruity and oily, the latter two pointing at orange peels. The most-modest chewing rolls out the oily spray from pinched orange peels, but more-vigorous chewing brings about eau-de-vie, warming, a tad bitter and numbing, somewhat reminiscent of a hot baking tin. The second sip is fruity as cider, though not fizzy, and rather oily again. It has a lick of wood (yes, like licking a newish stave), sawdust and those orange peels. Finish: neutral for a second, it adopts a citrus-y, nutty profile as one starts to breathe again. It has a certain bitterness of dead leaves mixed with dried citrus peels, hosed down with Triple Sec to tickle the gums and the roof of the mouth. The second gulp brings back the hot tin (teflon) baking tray, adds orange pith, dried pear peels, dried apple slices and walnut kernels. Pretty good. 7/10

09/11/2026 Port Charlotte

Port Charlotte 14yo 2002/2017 (60.1%, The Creative Whisky Company The Exclusive Malts, Sherry Hogshead, C#1140, 228b): sadly, we missed this whisky's distillation anniversary by one day. Nose: I do not recall this ever being so meaty. We have grilled meat, herbs-crusted lamb cutlets, pork chops, marinated steaks. It even has a whiff of bacon, which should come as no surprise, since official bottlings of Port Charlotte tend to to have that as a dominant scent. This nose also brings an immense earthy dryness; crusted earth, mud cakes dried on a tractor tyre, scorched earth. All that is sprayed with elderberry juice, and the cooking water of puy lentils. Beyond the above, one can almost smell sea breeze, moist and salty -- and it carries an aroma of manure! Almost impossible a combination, except for someone who has seen Bruichladdich, facing the sea loch, virtually surrounded by farms. The second nose has apple-wood-smoked Red Fox cheese, and that promises to be oily, smoky and, well, cheesy. Water adds roasted chestnuts, oily Brazil nuts, charred a little too long, and, maybe, a dollop of plasticine close to the flames and turning dry. Mouth: surprisingly sweet on entry, with soaked sultanas and Cotton Candy grapes. Chewing unleashes the beast: strong and wild, it is a black goat covered in earth. Oh! it is earthy alright. Scorched earth, baked mud patties doused with petrol, dried red chilli flakes. It has a subtle fruitiness, grape juice with slices of lychee, but the earth is prevalent. The second sip seems earthier, yet also fruitier. Now, we find prunes, dried figs, rehydrated currants or cherries. It has a lick of candlewax and spent wick, and, eventually, smoked earth -- smoked forest floor, in fact, or orchard floor, albeit a grassless one. It appears even drier with the addition of water, with dried leaves, dried dolmas and crusted earth. Chewing dumps petrol on them, enhanced with droplets of blackcurrant juice. If there is such a thing as a smoky crème de cassis, it must taste close to this. Finish: a small slap of fruits (prunes, dates, dried grapes) exposes an intensely-earthy finish. It shakes the taste buds, wallpapers the mouth with earth, singes said earth with a hot hairdryer, and leaves the gob covered in clay before letting thick petrol flow through. That is then joined by prune juice in which someone dropped a cigarette, the smoke of which is more obvious via retro-nasal olfaction. The second gulp is bigger yet. Next to smoked cherry stones, we find an ashtray full of fag ashes. One rollie is stuck in a side indentation, consuming slowly. Water adds currant soaking water gone lukewarm, tarry earth going very tarry, maybe seaspray during a black tide, and it ends with ciggie ashes. It is fruitier today than it has ever been, but it remains a big, hairy, beastly motherfucker of a dram. 9/10