15/05/2026 Inchmurrin

Inchmurrin 28yo (43%, OB imported by Preiss Imports, b. early 2000s): we tried this a few days ago. Let us give it a proper go. Nose: stewed citrus aplenty. Here are blush oranges, satsumas, tangerines, mandarines all broken up into segments and simmering in a cauldron with a dash of rum. The whole is slowly turning into a liqueur, which is very pleasant. It gives the occasional whiff of caramel, but also of heated cast iron, both of which reinforce this impression of stewed fruits. A few minutes later, we have a small dose of cardboard, followed by some kind of metal lubricant -- it does not appear to be WD-40, much less engine grease. Then, mace settles in, whole, not powdered, fragrant, and a trifle rubbery. Behind that is white wood, slightly sappy, as if it had been cut into planks too soon, and stale jam (likely apricot). The second nose has earthy caramel pointing at toffee and chocolate. The label gives no information about the cask type, but this may suggest some Sherry vessels were used. Come to mind cream Sherry, paxarette… or E150a. Mouth: mellow and unctuous, it quickly rallies the spicy troops -- ginger and nutmeg. It is syrupy at the same time; probably stem ginger, then. It does not assault the taste buds or anything, but it is certainly not weak. Chewing adds woody notes to that, such as gingerbread and cinnamon rolls. It has a pinch of dark-conifer sawdust (spruce, black pine) and a drop of resin too. Holding it on the tongue longer increases the woodiness and makes it darker. We now have walnut furniture, iroko sawdust and raw ebony. It never becomes too much, however: all that is balanced with cured citrus peels. The second sip starts slowly, giving away its mere 43%, but that is a trap: in seconds, the gingery notes are back, surfing on lukewarm, flat cola or ginger beer. There is something downright root-y about this that blends really well with the growing sweetness. Finish: a citrus slap in the gob. We are reunited with blush-orange peels or cured mandarine peels. It presents a discreet bitterness, confirming we are on citrus-peel territory, but punctuates it with a caramelised sweetness. Come to think of it, it is not very far from a certain orange liqueur sold in a square brown bottle (you probably know the brand). That sweetness, after a while, is reminiscent of burnt toffee. It is a long finish and, if it is not exactly smoky, it does leave the mouth dry and coated, as if one had smoked a cigar. The second gulp is earthier and rootier, yet also sweeter. Might it be reminiscent of burnt toffee? Once again, it is hard not to think about cream Sherry and paxarette, root beer and cola. However, we also keep the stem ginger and mace from earlier, and the sweetness that comes with those two makes the whole more complex, therefore more interesting. 8/10

11/05/2026 Irish Monkey

Irish Single Malt 28yo 1989/2017 Vol.1 (56.2%, Limited Whisky Investment The Monkey Series in co-operation with Sansibar, Bourbon Cask, 164b, 16/05058): nose: very quiet, almost mute. Golden shortcrust with a dusting of confectionary sugar. It develops a greener touch, with rubbed mint leaves, citrus foliage and a pinch of lemon mint so dry and so faded it is hard to spot. Breathing time increases the shortcrust impression, soft, fluffy, with hints of baked mango, persimmon and apricot. Those two are really subtle, though. This is not at all an obvious fruity avalanche! The second nose is hardly more talkative and, if anything, it is more austere: it now has grated limestone and wet cliff rocks, as if washed by the rain. All that fizzes out after a while to leave but a generic impression of freshness. Mouth: a notch bolder on the tongue, it is thick and velvety, with peach nectar, persimmon and mango slices so ripe they melt in the mouth. Chewing, even briefly, causes an explosion of tropical fruit. We have a mechanical fruit chopper slicing mangoes at high speed and shoving all the output into the mouth, blades included. Indeed, beside the undeniable fruitiness is a lick of metal reminiscent of 117.3. The second sip has the gentle kick of a fruit-scented nail varnish. That paves the way for a mango-and-persimmon purée, and we may even detect timid maracuja. The metallic note from earlier is much more subdued, now. Each subsequent sip adds citrus foliage and it takes longer for fresh fruits to emerge, as they inexorably do. Finish: strangely enough, it has a pronounced bitter touch akin to chicory infusion, then heat. This drops a heated metal ball into the stomach, which then radiates heat through the whole body. The heat builds up especially at the top of the oesophagus. Those heatwaves carry wafts of baked mango and papaya before dying with a note of chocolate. Jammy at second gulp, it quickly grows in mango intensity, ripe, flavourful, and creamy in texture, close to quality milk chocolate indeed. There is even some caramel at play, in the long run -- salted caramel cream, to be precise. Even with a somewhat-disappointing nose (that made me think I inverted the labels of this and the Balvenie from the same night), it certainly holds its own as a whole. 9/10

09/05/2026 Lord of the Rings MkII

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

08/05/2026 Ardbeg

Ardbeg 10yo (46%, OB, b. ca. 2005): nose: a big splash of sea water, is it not? Wet sands, seashells, sea spray and sea air. Just as I marvel at how different those notes are, compared to my memories of Ardbeg 10yo released circa 2002-2005 (ashes, cereals and earth), an ashier note slaps me in the nose. White ashes spread on the ground, then sprinkled with fortified wine, burnt hazelwood that was extremely dry to begin with, and smoked haybales. Soon enough, it claws back some of the initial maritime allure, though it is now squid ink and tarry ropes. The second nose is earthier yet, with dry clay and half-baked pottery. A drop of ink remains in the background. Mouth: what the deuce!? Shampoo? There is a whiff of smoke and ashy toffee, but it is spoiled by shampoo. In this impeccable sample bottle and its self-sealing lid, it is most unexpected. Nothing in the nose suggested it either, so I believe the liquid suffered in the sample, rather than a dud bottle from the start. The second sip is even worse. Full-on shampoo. Finish: still soapy, but some of the original character survives. We find cereals, muesli, porridge, even. Indeed, it is creamy, if not exactly custardy. Burnt wood and ashes rise and heat up the chest, which feels as though sipping warm salt water from an inky seashell. The second gulp sees flame-grilled pineapple ignite, then extinguished with a dash of shampoo. Decent, but sadly damaged by the soapy notes. 5/10 (Thanks for the sample, Savoureur)

Happy birthday, JD.

01/05/2026 Balvenie

Here is the dram we skipped last week.

Balvenie 32yo 1966/1998 (42.1%, OB Vintage Cask, C#6432, 264b, b#36): nose: this is a side of Balvenie I am less familiar with, but one that brings a smile of satisfaction. It bursts with mango, Galia melon, papaya, persimmon and ripe peaches. It has nectarines too, less prominent. A few jasmine buds speckle the surface of that fruit juice, soon joined by a pinch of finely-ground white pepper. Time adds other fruits, such as green grapes, guava and carambola. Maybe it has timid citrus zest and, at last, a minute amount of berries. The second nose is rather different: gone are the fruits, replaced by herbs in a pine clearing. Fresh mint, tarragon, marjoram, lemon thyme and pine needles all combine to form a gel, ready to be injected into hard-shelled sweets. Mouth: mellow, unctuous and seemingly accessible, it has pouring custard with a drop of pressed fruits, some unripe as to impart a minor bitterness. We find a lick of metal too, stainless steel or aluminium. Chewing adds a gorgeous hazelnut paste, sweet, unctuous and bitter, but the fruits come out fast and strong -- carambola, guava, chayote served on a metal plate. It has a dash of chicory infusion too, which is even more unexpected. The second sip is as mellow, probably a tad more acidic. We now have citrus pulp blended with a spoonful of yoghurt -- pink grapefruit, pomelo, blush orange. We really go from white-green tropical fruits to pink-reddish citrus. Finish: if the alcohol felt modest on the palate, it kicks harder here. No violence, or anything; simply, one can feel the heat, a little, amongst the fruity, syrupy goodness. It could probably be likened to stem ginger. Beside are hazelnut paste, galangal purée, lemongrass-fueled celeriac mash, timid milk chocolate, lukewarm custard. Behind all that, smashed carambola and guava steadily rise. That all makes for a creamy finish with a bitter nuance. The second gulp feels more quaffable, better integrated, and a notch fruitier. It remains creamy, but the hazelnut paste is almost overrun by lovely citrus; Shaddock, pink grapefruit, Oroblanco, Ugli fruit. Fantastic. 9/10