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 Longow 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

06/11/2026 The Last Crusade MkII (Part 2)

Carsebridge 48yo 1975/2024 (45.3%, Keeble Cask Fragrant Drops, Refill ex-Bourbon Hogshead, C#161077, 202b): nose: fragrant exotic woods, such as redwood (it is exotic for a European!), teak or ebony. Then, it is the batter of a chocolate-and-Guinness sponge cake, toasted peanuts, torched strawberries, dried dates. It is fruity, yet I remembered it more exuberant. I wonder if five months in an open bottle have changed it that much, or if my memory is playing tricks. Breathing time helps it develop rum baba, banane flambée and a boozy caramel coulis poured on custard. The second nose has the wood glue often associated with a grain whisky, yet, in this case, it is a fruit-scented glue -- and that fruit is no longer shy! Papaya, purple maracuja, alphonso mango, longan, rambutan. It has a more-solemn side too, with notes of thuja bark and fruit-tree logs. Mouth: fruit liqueur on entry. Banana comes to mind, though we are far from the overly-sweet vulgarity of Pisang, to be clear. No, it has the fruit itself, stewed and mashed, a drop of caramel and a dash of alcohol. Chewing makes it a fruit explosion, with mango, banana, papaya, rambutan, purple maracuja, bergamot chunks and tamarind, albeit less acidic. It has a soft root-y, earthy note that hints at turmeric roots, chewy and a notch rubbery. The second sip is immediately juicy, reminiscent of mango-and-apricot nectar. Half-a-chew opens the floodgates for a tide of alphonso mango made a tad more acidic with a drop of pink-grapefruit juice and one smashed pink maracuja. All that is poured into a wooden cup. This is such debauchery! Finish: soft rubber on the way down, yet that turns out to be a fragmentation fruit bomb, each micro-explosion of which provides a new wave of tropical fruit. Papaya, longan, tamarind, chikoo, mangosteen, browned banana form a constellation of fruity shooting stars that zoom back up the oesophagus. They leave the back of the throat and the mouth all fruited up. The second gulp is as fruity, if not more. A little more acidic, perhaps, with pink grapefruit and mandarine joining mango, unripe pineapple and pink maracuja. The other fruits are much quieter, but with a main act so charming, that is fine. Only a drop of turpentine helps us remember that we are having a grain whisky, rather than fruit juice. This is great from start to finish, but the palate is legendary. 9/10

Glen Grant 48yo 1965/2013 (49.6%, The Scottish Liqueur Centre Càrn Mòr Celebration of the Cask, Hogshead, C#2137, 112b, b#36): nose: stewed marmalade, very bitter, chipboard sawdust, cedar-wood splinters, gingery orange peels (whatever that means), and more and more "dark" aromas; dried modelling paint pots (sea-grey, dark grey), balls of modelling wax, melted ashy soap bars, dark-blue candles in a new-age boutique, squid ink, squid-ink pasta. That said, it ends up supplying citrus peels (tangerine, tangelo) and a lick of nail varnish. Mostly, though, it is dark candlewax, Barbour jackets, a pinch of ash and a stain of squid ink. At one point, the wax morphs into a moist clay pot waiting to be baked. Then, it peddles yellow flowers, tulips or daffodils, but it invariably takes us back to candlewax and ink. The second nose is bolder yet, full of Seville-orange marmalade and citrus segments served on a rough chipboard that is hardly covered with oilcloth. Later on, we spot leather that has spent considerable time in orange juice -- is that original or what? Suddenly, it goes back to base, and it is marmalade and wood dust on the microphone again, smoking a cigarette, this time. Mouth: well, it does not lack in the bitterness department. It is the bitterness of fresh daffodils ready for a vase, their stems dripping sap. Their petals kindly balance that bitterness, make it softer and more tolerable. Chewing releases oily wax -- modelling wax, at first, then candlewax. It goes from yellow to dark blue in seconds. It has a certain amount of wood spices (sawdust, white pepper, ginger powder), a hint of spent wick, and distant flower stems of leaves (lily-of-the-valley). The second sip is more acidic, citric. It is peels and pith as much as it is juicy segments, maybe more, but it classes as fruity all the same. One might confuse this for a spoonful of marmalade with a drop of cider vinegar. Finish: spicier here, it has white pepper, flower leaves, ginger powder. Forty-eight years in wood have clearly left a mark, and wood dust stops virtually any other flavour from surfacing. We have bone-dry citrus zest, perhaps, but whether that is lime, lemon, grapefruit or orange is a mystery. The second gulp is more approachable and fruitier: gone are the overbearing wood spices; here are stewed citrus in syrup, warm, acidic and punctuated by a stewed cranberry here and there. There may even be a Kirsch-soaked cherry. In this homoeopathic quantity, that is fine. Wax emerges upon repeated quaffing (purple modelling wax, blue candlewax), as does ash. Look! it is not anywhere near licking an ashtray. It just gives this drying, abrasive feel. And that ash is mixed with the driest citrus zest to lift it up a little. Excellent nose, good palate, a somewhat disappointing finish at first gulp, yet it redeems itself at second take. It is an 8 initially, but a couple of sips push this to... 9/10

Bunnahabhain 48yo 1975/2023 (50.2%, Signatory Vintage Cask Strength Collection Rare Reserve 35th Anniversary, Oloroso Sherry Butt, C#2845, 361b, b#46): nose: a wonderful whiff of dry earth confirms what the colour gave away. It is indeed a deep, brooding, earthy number. Potting soil beaten by the sun for the whole summer, fields in the midst of a drought, clay floors with no moisture whatsoever. It acquires rancio, prunes left in the desert for weeks, and dried mushrooms (porcini, shiitake). Little by little, the mushrooms and prunes rehydrate, one drop of hot water at a time, and we step into what cavalier66 calls the tertiary. That is when dead leaves fall onto the forest floor, dried as if it had not rained for months. Despite all that dryness, it is full of scents -- the scent of woods such as mahogany and teak, walnut and iroko, dark and oily. Closing one's eyes, one spots cedar-wood dust and gochujang, a combination so alien that one feels the urge to taste it immediately -- and one will! The second nose is earthier still; it has beetroot, dark cocoa powder, black cardamom, yet all that is sprinkled with tar-black honey and prune syrup. That confers the nose a nice balance that never allows it to become overly sweet -- this is definitely on the dry-and-earthy side of the spectrum. Mouth: gochujang alright! It is spread onto a teak board, welcomes rehydrated dried shiitake and a pinch of cedar-wood dust. A couple of chopped prunes elevate the palate. Chewing shows just how calmly powerful this tranquil force is. Powdered galangal, steak pepper mix and gochugaru shield rancio, Medjool dates and prunes. The second sip may be a touch juicier, insofar as spicy earth can be juicy. Let us say it is dry soil in a wooden planter, splashed with prune syrup -- and not even a lot of it! We then have cassia-bark soaking water, date stones, dried mulberries and only traces of leather, as well as the liquid residue from onion relish. Phwoar! As a side note, is it not funny that the stone is set in the date, rather than the date being set in stone? Finish: big, oily, woody, earthy, dry. On the one hand, we have dried shiitake, crushed into a pile of dust; on the other, water in which prunes and dried mushrooms have soaked. It also cultivates a root-y facet, with liquorice allsorts, powdered galangal, ginger and cassia bark, torched, then powdered. The second gulp blends warm tar and buckwheat honey, and spikes that with liquorice shavings. That makes for a larynx-refreshing impression one would usually associate with cough syrup or juicy cough drops, albeit with little-to-no camphor. The more one drinks, the juicier it gets, though the earthy-root-y character continues to dominate. It would be logical, in a dram, like this, to detect coffee, but I do not think it would be justified. If it is, it is a coffee heavily modified with prune juice, liquorice shavings and a stick of cassia bark in the middle, comparable to those little umbrellas they put in cocktails. This is monumental. Cerebral without the pompousness. 9/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)