12/10/2026 Mystery sample #8

Testing my eyesight too!
Look at that faded label!

Nose: a naked one! Here are straw and crispy dried apple peels. That becomes a little more moist, but it is not a juicy affair, at least initially. Eau-de-vie, apple brandy and a Verdigris-infested copper kettle. Maybe it has a splash of lemon juice, in the long run, though nothing to be overly excited about. The second nose feels drier, if anything, and brings forth hazelnuts that were stored in an oiled mahogany case since last year's season. It turns oilier in a wood-stain fashion. Mouth: mellow and velvety, it is a blend of crème caramel and melted toffee. Were it a trifle dustier, one could say it tastes like an old blend. Chewing crystallises the caramel and we have caramel boiled sweets, Mokatine without mocha (which is like nicotine without Nico, really, or the same without Newcastle-upon-). It grows a gentle heat, gentle enough for the mainstream, just about hot enough for a seasoned taster to notice. A faint sherbet and something earthier take over, after a while. The second sip may well have more bite, with tart apple and roasted hazelnuts dripping their oil. How seasonal! Finish: yes, blend-y, it offers caramel, toffee, a pinch of dust and stewed plums. It lingers like a gulp of spearmint, yet the caramel rules, without being too sweet. The second pass has banane flambée in which the banana is virtually unrecognisable behind the flamed rum. A hazelnut coulis or liqueur slowly gives way to gritty, chalky ground hazelnut, dry, dry, dry. No oil left, here. Unpretentious, unchallenging. What is it? A blended world whisky?

Woven Superblend (46.1%, Woven Whisky Makers) 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, Whisky-Online)

09/10/2026 Glen Grant

Glen Grant 22yo 2003/2026 (52%, Decadent Drinks Decadent Drams, 19y Refill Barrel & 3y 1st Fill Sherry Hogshead, 193b): nose: phwoar! that is a fruity nose. We have ripe plums and dark grapes leaping out of a lacquered jewel case, and all sorts of dried-fruit pastes -- prune paste, raisin paste, membrillo, apricot paste. How marvellous! It has got a bit of dusty plasticine too, an open bottle of Italian wine (Chianti in a bottle clad with a straw basket) and emerging blackberries. Keep sniffing and it ends up giving hot metal (but no methedrine, ho! ho! ho!) The second nose smashes blackberries and myrtles all the way up the nose, hitting the sinuses. That slows down a bit to dish out a lovely fig spread. It promises sweetness and chewiness. Mouth: a modest kick prefaces a sprinkling of pepper and a spoonful of blackberry jam. It is all rather discreet. Chewing slaps the tongue with melted plastic on oilcloth, plum juice and pressed blackberries. It has a sharp bitterness, which suggests that not all fruits are entirely ripe, but it is not detrimental to the overall enjoyment A stick of cinnamon and a splatter of toothpaste inject some wood spices for good measure. The second sip maintains the bitter lick, but, underneath that, we find the same nice fig spread as on the nose. The bitterness now seems to come from the fig pips in said spread. It has a strong wine presence, yet it is not tannic; it is close to a Mediterranean wine that has seen more sun than many would prefer. Finish: it is pretty earthy, here, which is a surprise. Damp clay floors, moist mulch, cassia bark crumbling into shards and dust. And it is anaesthetising too. Some of the fruits from before do show up, indiscernible. Plum stems and grape vines are louder than the fruits they once bore. The second gulp prolongs the earthy-woody notes, with plenty of spices (ginger shavings, cinnamon, cassia) and the beginning of a sweeter note -- another relish or spread, sultanas, dates or quince and lemon, augmented with ground star anise. A strong nose, while the palate and finish are a little behind. 7/10 (Thanks for the dram, EG)

02/10/2026 An Ardbeg to welcome October

When Francis Cabrel wrote a song about this month, he spoke of dead leaves, mist and scarves, woolly jumpers and an anaemic sun we hardly saw. In 2026, October means 20-25*C, sweaty commutes and watering the plants that have endured the sun all day long -- with rain water, since there is still a hosepipe ban going on. Hard to stay chirpy, innit.

33.52 10yo 1994/2004 Rowan jelly and menthol cigarettes (58.3%, SMWS Society Cask, Refill Hogshead): nose: it is a farm-y one, with ploughed fields, peat bricks and mercurochrome poured onto them. There are hints of vegetation as well, mosses and roots of all kinds, that pave the way for a more-typical Ardbeggian nose: fishnets drying in a field and ink. That (black) ink comes to dominate the picture, given a few minutes, and lets drier notes emerge: charred skewers, spent incense, scorched earth. There is even a whiff of manure desiccated with ashes and chalk for sanitation purposes. The second nose is purely farm-y, with muck, manure and other natural fertilisers (agricultural lime comes to mind). Mouth: fruit, straw and cereal at first. It has unripe white peach, dried Korean pear, straw bales and roasted barley. Chewing shows just how strong it is, but also sets the straw on fire and douses it with black ink to extinguish it. Mussel shells appear, after a while, in parts salty, sandy and petrolic. The second sip has unripe citrus peels, earth, some moist, some dry, unripe berries trampled into the mud, and dried hazelwood consumed by a flame. To a lesser extent, it also has salt and pepper. Finish: it kicks more modestly than expected and it displays heated (not burnt) earth, ink, fishing nets after a day in the sun, a dollop of petrol and a minute quantity of mentholated roasted barley. It gives a strangely-liqueur-like impression in how it sticks to the tonsils. Retro-nasal olfaction detects sphagnum moss and lichen stuck to the side of an empty vase. The second gulp has more dried lichen and residue in an evaporated pool of stagnant water. Scorched earth and a pinch of sugar certainly join smoked plums in the frame, yet, once the sphagnum moss and lichen have shown their faces, it is harder to see past them. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, PS)

29/09/2026 Bruichladdich

Bruichladdich 25yo 2010/2026 The Laddie (61%, OB Valinch Limited Edition for UK Academy April 2026, 2nd Fill Bourbon Cask, 7b, b#007): nose: supremely fresh, in pure Laddie fashion. Sea spray, kitchen cleaning products (though not bleach), lily-of-the-valley in a vase covered in morning dew. But that is not all: it also entertains pastry -- choux dough and custard, i.e. éclair sans chocolat or boule de Berlin. That, in turn, moves towards woodier notes, at first an untreated birch shelf, then a stained desk. Said desk has a leather desk pad on it. The second nose is warmer. It offers a spoonful of Marmite diluted in a litre of boiling water, beef stock and hot cross buns. Soon, it goes back to the bakery, with custard, butterscotch and fudge. This time, however, it completes the picture with a rusty dish and dusty, oxidised zinc plates. Mouth: strong for the onset, it sprays wood stain and creosote in all directions. It then turns quiet to focus solely on heat; heated needles pricking the tongue, acupuncture style. Chewing gives us wood (not that way!), with butterscotch, wood stain, carbonyl, turpentine and pencil wood before the lead is inserted. Dry and bitter, if not unpleasant. The second sip brings crushed freshwater mollusc shells -- until one chews, at which stage salt water comes rushing in. Finally, we have a pot of custard simmering on the hob -- a hob with a metal top, not enamel nor ceramic. Finish: strangely, much of the bitterness from the mouth disappears. We find softer wood notes, custard, toffee, caramel. It is not very long before coffee enters the scene, sweetened, yet bitter nonetheless. Unless it is hot water in which Mokatines have soaked. The second gulp continues the caramel-y journey, and the soft bitterness of Mokatine water (if we can call it that) now also points at a hot-metal hob. Soon enough, sweetened coffee returns that could well be mocha. Competent dram. And quite the rarity, to boot! 7/10 (Thanks for the dram, JL)

27/09/2026 Fête de la Communauté française de Belgique

The ideal scenario would be to try a Belgian Owl, especially in light of its announced liquidation, earlier this week. But there is none at tOMoH's, at the moment. What else, then? A Daftmill? Well, we French-speaking Belgians can be a bit daft, so that works!

Daftmill 15yo 2009/2024 (56.3%, OB Fife Strength, 19 x First Fill ex-Bourbon Barrels + 1 x ex-PX Cask, 3840b): nose: caramel, gingerbread, toffee. It stays clear of fudge, but it promises to be sweet, there is no doubt about that. A little shaking and a little breathing confers this a heated-metal note, if only for a moment. It swiftly returns to sweet aromas, now closer to a fluffy cake with a crispy crust, and a lemon-drizzle cake caramelised on the sides. Yellow meadow flowers eventually reach us too: buttercups, daisies, dandelions. They start off fresh, then smell as though they have been smashed and ground on a slab of limestone. The second nose is more-clearly fruity, with lime and pomelo segments, and a couple of mint leaves. It makes me think of a Major Bailey, a cocktail with gin, lime and mint (and lemon). With water, this smells like flavoured water from a dispenser in a hotel lobby. Cucumber water, lime water, pomelo water, mint water. That is now crystal clear. It takes a while for cakes to come back; they are then butterier. Mouth: lively at once, it has yellow flowers all the way, bright, soft, and a tad bitter, as the stems start to become more discernible. It is a little hot too (green chilli). Chewing stirs all the flowers in a simmering pot of hot water. Next up is spearmint, rather fiercely refreshing. We find some sugar, almost entirely hidden behind the same heated metal we found on the nose. Here is an old-school pan of stainless steel -- no teflon, no coating of any kind. The second sip is softer and creamier until one chews: it is then as hot and lively as ever. Green citrus, some candied, some zested, some fresh, mint, candied angelica and a pinch of ground cloves. Water makes this mellow AF, like biting a pillow. Candy floss comes to mind, yet is has none of the vulgar sweetness of that. It may well have a creamy toothpaste instead -- a minty one. Finish: mint crumbles is what it is. Sherbet with none of the fizz, and a numbing, herbal freshness. Perhaps it has candied lime zest and peeled-cucumber chunks. The second gulp presents a lime custard, but also tzatziki, lime zest and heated metal, on the late tip. It may unearth fennel and/or dill, albeit subtle. For the major part, it is candied angelica, candied lime peels, cucumber peels and a pinch of grated Aspirin. Indeed, the mild bitterness from earlier seems to take off, a bit. Adding water softens the finish and makes it dangerously quaffable. Mint crumbles melted into a paste, pomelo yoghurt, crushed mint in a glass of gin & tonic. Or a highball augmented with mint, lime zest and a spoonful of honey. This is excellent and perhaps even better with water. 8/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)