14/07/2026 Belgium #12

GN, Psycho, ruckus, Gaija and JS brave the heatwave to join me online for a few drams.

 
Dram #1

Nose: fruity and fresh (GN), it has citrus (GN) and apricot (Psycho).

Mouth: sweet, light and fruity (GN). On the other hand, ruckus finds it challenging, in the heat (29°C where he is).

Finish: apricots and other yellow fruits (Gaija), pineapple (GN).

Comment: GN finds it the perfect apéritif. Apart from ruckus, who warms up to it (see what I did?), it is widely seen as a strong starter. Gaija reckons a classic Highland or Speyside profile, whereas GN finds it reminiscent of Ardbeg Drum, minus the smoke. My notes are here. The bottle is empty, so I do not try it, tonight.

Strathisla 1999/2010 Here Come The Rain Again (46%, La Maison du Whisky Belgique, C#45530, 247b)

My Internet connection drops. I join back five minutes later.

tOMoH: “I see I haven’t missed much. Psycho is explaining carnival rides to everyone!"

Dram #2

Nose: GN finds it more aggressive than #1. Psycho calls cedar wood and cedar sheets, Gaija detects a waxy old-bottle effect and a peach aroma.

Mouth: dried fruits and dry fruits (Gaija, who specifies roasted almonds), lacquer (Psycho), a soft industrial touch (Gaija), engine grease (ruckus), dusty furniture (Psycho).

Finish: Gaija and GN love this; Psycho finds it a bit rough -- in a pleasant way. GN spots a Bourbon-y side that he enjoys a lot.

Comment: this has become ridiculously fruity, after seven months in a nearly-empty bottle. It is coming closer to the 46yo Sansibar offering. Full notes here.

Teaninich 45yo 1975/2021 (49.5%, Bartels Whisky Highland Laird, Bourbon Hogshead, C#14796, 35b, b#20) 9/10

Dram #3

Nose: coffee grounds, Sherry (Gaija), shoe polish (Gaija), Ça-Va Seul (Psycho and ruckus).

Mouth: syrupy and liqueur-like (ruckus). GN guesses it is a Pedro Ximénez maturation; it is Oloroso, but it feels much sweeter now indeed. Psycho finds it fresh, while Gaija notes peach. It is dried-fruit cake for Psycho, who calls it mellow, sweet and round. “The word you are looking for is: ‘smooth’,” I add, channelling my internal PG.

Finish: sweet and fruity. The more one tries it, the sweeter it gets.

Comment: another one that has dramatically improved in the almost-empty bottle. My full notes are here.

Deanston 11yo (50.1%, The Hampstead Beverage Collective Explorers & Elements Series, 1st Fill Oloroso Sherry Cask, 72b, b#72) 8/10

Psycho: “Du cirage à cuir.”
tOMoH: “Par opposition avec quoi? Du cirage à manger cru? Du cirage à velours?”
Gaija: “Du carpaccio de cirage!”

Dram #4

Nose: pepperspray (GN, letting his past as a hooligan transpire), a hint of sulphur (Gaija), pepper-flavoured sweets (Psycho).

Mouth: slightly astringent (Psycho), Tabasco (GN). Gaija calls it complex and explains he likes the palate much more than the nose.

Finish: syrup, maybe sirop de Liège (Psycho). ruckus sees the rough edges of hazelnut, to which Gaija adds that it is a tad tannic. GN insists it has the explosiveness of youth; Gaija agrees it is characterful.

Comment: “this is the one you drink to put you to sleep” (GN). There is a general shock when they see the ABV: it is clearly higher than the first drams, but no-one realised just how high it is. They find it well integrated. This is smashing as ever. Full notes here. No-one here tonight was present when we had it in November; that is now corrected.

Glenfarclas-Glenlivet 11yo 1980/1992 (59.6%, Cadenhead Authentic Collection 150th Anniversary Bottling, Oak Cask) 8/10

Dram #5

Nose: very cereal-y (Psycho), it has pepper too (GN), as well as a herbaceous and floral profile (Gaija). Gaija and Psycho find it perfume-like. Psycho even adds that it has a pharmacy smell.

Mouth: fresh, herbaceous, floral (ruckus and Gaija). It goes extremely well after the heavy-hitting Glenfarclas, and seems easy, by comparison.

Finish: liquorice (GN), fresh as a Lowlander (Gaija), herbaceous, perfume-y, it drinks as a génépi (Gaija)..

Comment: GN is not enthused by this. The others like it. Gaija, ruckus and Psycho had a chance to try this last month. I am glad none of them did. There is none left for me to try. Full notes here.

Glenlochy 29yo 1980/2010 (52.8%, Signatory Vintage Cask Strength Collection, Hogshead, C#2649, 265b, b#71)

Excellent time.

13/07/2026 Springbank tasting at Bar Lotus

JS and I meet Gunooner for another tasting at Bar Lotus.

This one

Campbeltown Loch 21yo (40%, Springbank Distillers)

Nose: roasted apples, hot tin and a tea shoppe full of bags of gunpowder, dried leaves and even an incense section. The tin becomes louder, jar lids and copper coins. Melted plasticine joins the dance, while JS and Gunooner think of dusty-musty lofts.

Mouth: roasted apples it is, dripping with juice and filled with a tiny bit of smoke. It becomes thinner and metallic at second sip, with cut apple slices rubbed on tin and copper.

Finish: charred apples, smoked quinces, pears, a sprinkle of ground white pepper. JS mentions those Korean juice cans with grapes inside the can.

Comment: a good starter that will be more and more impressive as we get back to it later in the evening. They do not make the mistake of telling us this is really Springbank 21yo under a different name -- there is no Springbank in Campbeltown Loch below the age of 25, according to trustworthy sources.

Score: 8/10

Our host does a little introduction for the bottles in the main line-up. Sadly, he mispronounces Hedley Wright's name, tells us he was manager of the distillery in the 1980s before someone else took over (Wright was never manager; he owned the distillery from the 1960s to his death in 2023). He also tells us that Murray McDavid had a good relationship with Springbank, hence why they bottled the third dram of tonight. In fact, one of Murray McDavid’s co-founders was Wright’s nephew. When he left the family business to set up Murray McDavid, he bottled one of his own casks of Springbank, much to the ire of Hedley Wright. That torpedoed any relationship between the two.

All that to say: there is a lack of research on display.

Springbank 30yo Hedley G. Wright (38%, OB, b.1980s)

Nose: incredibly deep and elegant. It speaks of drinks cabinets, old liqueurs, corduroy sofas and velvet drapes. It feels a little fragile, but it does not suffer too much. A whiff of berry-flavoured cough drops tickles the nostrils, blackberry and blackcurrant. It has a farm-y nuance at second nose, and pickled onions. It becomes incredibly fruity, a few hours in, tropical — pink maracuja and dragon fruit, snake head fruit and kaki in a rubber punnet.

Mouth: smoked-cassis liqueur, a pinch of charcoal, a spray of defroster fluid. The second sip has tree bark bathing in balsamic vinegar, at once acidic and fruity. A woody bitterness emerges, old cinnamon sticks. Coming back to it after the rest of the line-up, it is full-on lychee and pink grapefruit, not particularly assertive, but beautiful.

Finish: much more potent than expected, this rolls out woodworm and dried mushrooms, followed by soot and grated charcoal. A lick of balsamic shows up at second gulp. Later on, the finish is weaker, too subtle, bitter, with ink and fennel.

Comment: this is excellent, if not extraordinary. It should objectively have been bottled sooner. What a treat to try it, though! Emotionally charged. Likely bottled between 1977 and 1988: the volume is written in millilitres (the glass states 75-77cl), which means post-1977, and the Scotch Whisky Act of 1988 dictates that Scotch has to be 40% minimum, so it cannot be later than that.

Score: 9/10

Springbank 15yo J. Archibald Mitchell (46%, OB imported by Japan Import Systems, b.1980s)

Nose: lovely Sherry cask(s), it seems. Prunes, fresh figs and a delicate whisper of smoke that could even be cigar. It also has gentle shoe polish, melted plasticine, suet, cured cherries, maybe mahogany oil.

Mouth: nice and oily (JS), Cognac-y, it has grapes, prunes, rambutans. Chewing adds cured gooseberries, cured plums, wine-soaked Mirabelle plums, a puff of smoke, and a soft note of onion relish. Honey-glazed pearl onions materialise at second sip. Yes: pearl onions coated in honey become really clear.

Finish: weirdly enough, the dilution shows, in this one. It is otherwise a great combination of the above, with gooseberries, plums, pearl onions and sweet fresh figs to balance the tartness of those onions. The second gulp brings together the figs, prunes and onions.

Comment: excellent!

Score: 9/10

There are sixteen of us, tonight, with little interaction between many of the participants. I sometimes get the feeling that some are discovering Springbank on this occasion. There are worse ways to do it, but I cannot say if I find this the best.

Springbank 33yo 1965/1998 (46%, Murray McDavid, Sherry Cask, C#580, 204b, b#149)

Nose: we are shifting gears! This is, of course, in a completely different league, brimming with lychee, gooseberry and carambola. There is a hidden note of pine needles too, and a vague wine influence, despite the host’s assuring us it is from a Bourbon cask (it is not). Next up are warm lettuce leaves, and stewed lemons appear in the long run, albeit not shouty. The second nose brings a pinch of earth.

Mouth: syrupy as fook, this is clearly an ex-Sherry cask. It has honey spilled on earth, cough syrup spilled on lychee, carambola doused in minty camphor, and cough drops. The second sip seems more powerful and wine-y, with prunes, bitter currants (unripe), cherry stems and liqueur poured on mud patties.

Finish: the Sherry keeps it from reaching the heavens for me. It is a little on the loud side. Stewed citrus, marmalade-like but augmented with stewed liquorice. The second gulp is more straightforward prunes and red-wine vinegar toned down with honey.

Comment: the nose alone was a top score. The rest is too sherried for me.

Score: 9/10

Springbank 30yo b.2025 (46%, OB, 25/13)

Nose: fresh watermelon slices, smoked carambola chunks. At some point, incense unexpectedly wafts in. Soft-leather handbags, cosmetic products, then excellent hard candy, melting and fragrant (berry-flavoured), borderline chewing gum-like.

Mouth: yeah, hard candy it is, acidic, fruity, sweet. Chewing cranks up the fruits: raspberry, strawberry, Morello cherry. There is a wisp of acrid smoke, in the back, blink and you miss it. We have a bit of leather at second sip, and a berry paste dragged through earth. This is spectacular.

Finish: wood and fruits. Papier mâché paste, smashed strawberries, cinnamon powder. There are even tropical fruits, after a while, carambola in the lead.

Comment: I certainly did not want to like this, considering the RRP. But I have to admit it is excellent.

Score: 9/10

Springbank 21yo d.1993 (unknown ABV, OB Private Bottling for MGM & SCT)

Nose: vulgar, it has no finesse, compared to the previous drams. Mud, boozy vase water followed by ash and lichen-covered metal pipes. The longer you nose, the more-pleasant it becomes, thankfully, but the contrast with the rest of the line-up is not flattering. The last thing to drive to the nostrils are the plastic cover sheets of comb-bound booklets.

Mouth: it is a bit rough around the edges, with sand and melted glass. It moves to a minty custard a little further on. The second sip brings an unbelievable mix of fish sauce and smoked raspberries. It turns muddier with time and adds ashes.

Finish: big, woody and earthy, it has a strong anaesthetising cinnamon effect. The second gulp is earthier, ashier, yet clean and dry, closer to Sauvignon Blanc or Chenin Blanc than to mud patties.

Comment: a slow-burner. A good whisky, objectively, but it feels out of place in this selection.

Score: 8/10

Springbank 27yo 1992/2020 (48.4%, OB Private Single Cask, Refill Bourbon Hogshead, C#273, b#186)

Nose: a completely different nose again. Here are cereals and yellow flowers -- daffodils, tulips, forsythia. Plums and white peaches are here too. Later on, we have a minty paste and a whiff of curry. Yup, that weird! The second nose welcomes transparent nail varnish and lychee shavings.

Mouth: super fresh, it has mint and pressed green grapes. Extremely fruity at second sip, it rolls out grapes, physalis, plums, greengages and, as soon as one chews, hazel wood shavings. That spells a mild bitterness, without doubt.

Finish: not at all living up to the nose and palate, the finish is earthier, dirtier, Springbankier, perhaps, but a little less to my taste (tonight). The second gulp is better, less earthy. It rallies around fruits and injects a drop of red-wine vinegar.

Comment: saved from a potential slip-up. It is actually very good.

Score: 9/10

Good selection again. I like that everyone goes at their own pace (I take my time), but still unsure what to make of the place or the organisation. It is not really a guided tasting, more a flight-of-the-day type, and the disconnect between the knowledge gaps and the calibre of the whiskies is unsettling. In any case, how smashing to try these drams.

They also have this American whiskey bottled by Chichibu.
Someone else tries it, we do not.

10/07/2026 Two Lochside

Lochside 19yo 1981/2000 (60.9%, Cadenhead, Sherrywood): nose: unexpected nose, this, as it has woodworm and mushrooms. Perhaps it only needs to breathe a little bit and it is not a spoiled miniature -- the fill level is not optimal on this one. A bit of air seems to clear that up and replaces the decaying wood with... Well, not with much, actually: the alcohol smothers all of the fruits that are trying to make their way. There may be cured oranges in the back, it is hard to tell. We will have to try this with water. Right now, it is a hot-water tank, clean and poor in scents. The second nose brings pastry to the fore: uncooked pains au chocolat made with a stale crust, and currants in a plastic pouch several years expired and sticking together, starting to fuse. Water opens it up, though not as expected. Here is an oilcloth tablecloth hammered by the summer sun, and a fruit bowl made of polished wood. In it, banana, carambola, cherimoya, papaya, rambuta(n). Mouth: total destruction a second after it passes the lips. It is really strong. Not uncomfortably so for tOMoH, but that prevents any taste from piercing through... until one chews! One mere chew and the miracle happens. Mango slices from a red-hot tin, smashed cherries, baked plantains, steamed papayas, baked apricots -- ha! ha! An avalanche of hot fruits on a bed of hot tin. The second sip has a lick of peanut spread, oily and bitter. Chewing stirs up some fruits, baked plums or greengages, but it is not the debauchery of earlier. With water, it presents a cold-coffee bitterness, for a second, then a fruity yoghurt, with peach, cherry, cherimoya, pomelo, kumquat, bergamot, papaya and cucumber peels. What a creamy texture! Finish: here too, the high ABV stops flavours from shining. It is a bit woody, with polished mahogany and lacquered fruit stones. It is undeniably fruity, but it limits itself to those stones, rather than exploring juicy flesh. It adds wood spices instead, in the long run, and we find that sawdust and ginger powder cake the tongue. Retro-nasal olfaction still has remnants of the mushrooms from the start. The second gulp brings heated plastic bags to contain the wood spices. It pours some cherry juice on plum stones, yet nothing crazy. It is rather bitter at the death. Much more acidic with water, it has citrus zest and pulp in a yoghurt with smoked persimmon and satsuma, the peels of which are dried to parchment and zested. That brings back a subtle bitterness alright. This may not be one of the great ones, but it is good all the same. And it swims well. 8/10

Lochside 25yo 1966/1991 (62.7%, Signatory Vintage, Oak Cask, C#3909, 1200b, b#569): distilled before and aged for longer than the previous dram, it also has a higher ABV. Nose: Madeira wine and cobblestones, followed by a waxy oilcloth tablecloth. It then continues the fortified-wine trip without turning wine-y. It produces a net of oranges or mandarines, and that leads to a wooden dresser not too far from the woodworm we had in Cadenhead's bottling. It pushes marmalade jars into the dresser and a box of eucalyptus powder. It is all very elegant. The second nose doubles down on oilcloth; it is a sailor's yellow oilskin, now, drying on the lower deck. It also has a minor vegetal note, some fern-like plant from a rain forest. It feels more warming with water, perhaps more welcoming, albeit indistinct. It gives the general feel of a radiator or a blanket, both hugely inadequate in this nth heat wave, without much character to it otherwise. Warm béchamel in lasagne, maybe? Mouth: remarkably mellow and syrupy at first, it is not long before the alcohol wakes up. That said, one would be pretty astute to guess this has a higher ABV than the previous. It is a souped-up syrupy Port, at this stage. Chewing gives a fleeting bitter kick, coffee-style, sprays hot Port all over the mouth, then offers a wooden coin to cool it down. Hot Port, prune syrup, elderberry syrup, pressed dried currants... It is dark and earthy, with a shovelful of jet-black earth of the kind one finds in a dunnage warehouse. The second sip is probably less dark; it introduces cranberries and lingonberries, and flirts with onion relish, which it never reaches. This clumsy blogger puts too much water. Mh. It still conjures up baked calamansis and cherimoyas, baked banana slices slathered with a mocha spread, and preserved hazelnuts. Finish: a similar story here, part syrupy, fortified dark-fruit wine, part dark earth. Prunes, currants, dried elderberries, dried blackcurrants mingle with coffee grounds, earth and a pinch of soot, even. It has a gentle woody tone too: eucalyptus powder, powdered lemongrass and a couple of grains of asafoetida pepper a spoonful of custard. The second gulp is akin to a fruity latte; hot milk, a bit of coffee and cranberry shavings. That would be served with a glass of Port on the side -- to make the coffee taste go away, you understand. It is at its best with water (even with a lot of water). More baked banana with a mocha-cream topping, hazelnut éclair and jellied pistachio. Boom. 8/10

09/07/2026 Three Littlemill

Littlemill 12yo 1984/1996 (43%, Signatory Vintage, Oak Casks, C#2440-41,1340b, b#404, 96/2142): nose: spirit-y, grainy, even, it has ester-y components too: dragon fruit and Korean pear, both wrapped in cellophane. The fruits become more assertive and welcome papaya in their midst, whilst the trademark Littlemill grated Aspirin grows in stature. Oh! it is not distracting, but it is there alright, crumbling like grout disintegrating between tiles. It then adopts a gentle hairy aspect, either a short-haired rug, or a pony's after grooming. We come back to fruits, now peaches worked into (blue) plasticine. The second nose fuses all that and the result is closer to lime and pomelo zest than anything else. Fragrant and promising to be bitter, it will inject some acidity too. At a push, one could detect pineapple chunks so unripe they are green. Mouth: a waxy entry that is not shy about its dilution. Without feeling weak, its clearly states its righteous place as a starter. Plasticine and waxy nectarines, a drop of ink, kumquats. Chewing adds apricot nectar peppered with crushed Aspirin and fruit-scented candlesticks. It has a lick of paraffin reminiscent of an unlit candle wick too, and blackberries and gooseberries lurk about. The second sip is juicier and sweeter, as if a pile of caster sugar had suddenly found its way into the fruit juice. We can definitely taste apricots, bergamots too, now, unripe papayas, calamansis, and a mint drop to elevate all that (you know the one; they come in a tube). Finish: a little green, it coats Mirabelle plums in milk chocolate. It also has dried apricots, stewed in a very-mild curry, and smoked kumquats. An extremely-vague grassiness tickles the sides of the tongue, while the centre sees pomelo zest and pomelo yoghurt, fruity, creamy and a trifle bitter. The second gulp seems more straightforward. It sees mint drops, lime zest and a pinch of grated Aspirin all added to smashed peach flesh that is a little too dry to be at its best. Nevertheless, this works a treat. 8/10

Littlemill 20yo 1984/2004 (46%, Hart Brothers Finest Collection): nose: clearly related, this one has a major distinction: a strong plastic note! Warm plastic buckets, warm plastic bottles, oilcloth in the sun. Beside are yellow fruits, crushed Aspirin and a dash of chocolate milk. Deeper nosing pulls something else to the surface and it does not seem to know whether to be green-grape juice or weak black coffee. Instead of opening up over time to reveal more fruits, it rallies around plastic and oilskins. It is original, if nothing else. There is a mild decay too, perhaps cured ham that really should have been finished a while ago. The second nose pushes a minty custard, ripe with smashed nectarines and white peaches. Plastic is still there, but it is limited to a watering can and a pair of wellies. Peach skins and sherbet show up on the late tip. Mouth: mellow enough, it has a generous dose of grated Aspirin in a lovely plum juice that does not see it coming. Fortunately, it is sweet enough on the sides of the tongue to overlook the Aspirin bitterness. Chewing swaps Aspirin for Aspirin Junior or a candy necklace, chalky, but also sweet(ened) and strawberry-flavoured. More-insistent chewing unearths Parma violet, or berry-flavoured cough drops. The second sip is bitterer. Alka Seltzer and its residue in an empty glass replace fruity Aspirin, and it takes some furious chewing to revive any fruitiness, really. Canary melon is quickly overtaken by lemons and calamansis coated in Alka Seltzer, and olive oil. Finish: warming, it shines brightly, if not for long. Blackcurrant cough drops, a smidge of menthol and unripe myrtles skedaddle in a cloud of chalk dust. All that is left is a lukewarm sensation on the roof of the mouth. It is otherwise quite short. The second gulp is harder. It feels very much like drinking Alka Seltzer, chalky and bitter. It even has the taste of the blister pack they came in -- aluminium. A nectarine larks about (in a nectarine fashion) in the very-long run, too little too late to make me love this. Unexpectedly weaker than the Signatory bottling. 7/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

Littlemill 39yo 1977/2016 (42.5%, Cadenhead Cask Ends, Bourbon Hogshead): it is hard to accept that ten years have passed since we tried this. Nose: phwoar! No Aspirin here, but jelly caps, almost unnoticeable behind heaps of fruits. Cherimoya, papaya, peach, persimmon, chikoo, plum, greengage, and a drop of ink. It has a minor vegetal touch, unripe gooseberries and the bush they grew in. As a great surprise, it turns out those fruits are travelling to the market in a sack made of humid bandages, and it is raining mercurochrome on the way. A medicinal Littlemill? It would appear so! The second nose has lukewarm milk chocolate blended with water that was used to clean brushes after a watercolouring session. That may well be elevated by a dash of cranberry juice. Chalky medicine tablets observe from a distance, but never dip their feet. Mouth: boldly fruity from the off, it bathes the tongue in peach nectar (the texture as much as the taste) and parades its goods -- persimmon, peach, nectarine, cherimoya, chikoo, papaya, physalis. Chewing adds pineapple and a scented pencil eraser. Indeed, it has a pleasant rubbery bitterness that flirts with the medical function, yet no chalk, meaning no Aspirin. More ink at second sip, though it merely reintroduces cherimoya. Riding on its coattails are cloudberries, alpine strawberries, white currants, Rainier cherries, apricots and cranberries all sprayed with chocolate milk and served with a milky walnut spread. Finish: chocolate custard and hazelnut spread signal quite a departure from the nose and palate. It is at once creamy and bitter, nutty and sweet. If it is not devoid of all fruits, they are more sparse, cherimoya still the main actor, with support from chikoo and longan. It feels more potent at second gulp, more milky, and it adds chestnut purée to the mix, strangely augmented with a crushed mint leaf. Retro-nasal olfaction detects pineapple purée, something that would be at home in a chou à la crème, or an éclair with a walnut glazing instead of chocolate (of course, it exists!) Indisputable winner of the day. Superb. Also entirely different from what I wrote down in our first encounter. 9/10 (Thanks for the sample, EG)

08/07/2026 Three Glendullan

Glendullan 11yo d.1984 (43%, James Macarthur Fine Malt Selection): nose: whew! That wakes one up. A crisp lemon juice poured onto hay bales. There may be calamansi too, as it promises a faint sweetness, but that is more in the background. Herbs show up upon deeper sniffing, rosemary, lemon thyme, oregano, all dried beyond recognition. Next to those herbs is incense -- church incense. It has got that unmistakable ashy scent that new-age boutiques of the world cannot achieve, the smell of incense bought in bulk decades ago and that has spent the meantime in the humid coolness of an oversized religious building. The second nose clears the nostrils more aggressively: a spray of windscreen defroster here, a whiff of rubbery cork there, abrasive incense ashes... Out of nowhere, spring-flower stems photobomb the picture. Mouth: mellow and creamy, it offers a delicious custard, satsuma smoothie and a moist sponge cake with a dash of lime juice. Chewing intensifies the lime acidity, adds a few stones for a mineral touch (driveway gravel) and sprinkles herbs on top (crushed bay leaves, dried rosemary and gunpowdered sage). The herbs' bitterness points at angelica, after a while, and Verdigris-covered copper. The second sip welcomes pineapple rings, less ripe than optimal, which means crunchy and a tad bitter. That is soon met by the citrus from earlier, more acidic, less bitter. Finish: less creamy in the finish, it swaps the custard for juicier notes of citrus -- grapefruit, lemon, lime juices dotted with lime zest. It washes all that with a dash of warm chocolate milk. Yes, it is acidic, bitter, warming to a degree, and rather comforting, all in all, seemingly made for a summer morning such as this. The second gulp is immensely sweet, almost gritty with caster sugar, an impression I will liken to some rums. That is wet with defroster served in a hammered-iron goblet, which is funny. An excellent Glendullan. 8/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

Glendullan-Glenlivet 25yo 1965/1990 (51.1%, Cadenhead): we step back in time, since this was bottled several years before the previous one was distilled. It was distilled before the distillery was rebuilt, in fact. One may consider they come from two different distilleries altogether, since only the site and the name are the same. Nose: it could hardly be more different. This one has a ton of OBE with tin lids and dust from the Industrial Revolution -- dusty old boilers, engines that have sat dormant for ages and that are so dusty and seized that one would hesitate to turn them back on, and cast-iron soil-stack pipes that could use a good jet-wash. It has an encrusted residue of smoke too, not at all relatable to peat, rather the smoke of derelict machinery, next to clogged sink and peaches heated and displayed on a zinc plate. Drier, dustier, more mineral at second nose, it evokes a mix of cereal dust (oak flakes) and quarry dust -- a quarry in which a fox passes fleetingly: a musky note tickles the nostrils. Mouth: oily and fruity at the start, it showcases green-grape juice, if said juice had an oilier texture, peach nectar, and a soft metallic touch. Chewing is like stepping on the gas pedal of an old automobile: a cloud of fumes comes out of the rickety mechanics, hot, acrid, strangely fulfilling. Smoked peaches and nectarines, smoked Golden Delicious apples, and that smoke comes out of a Moka tin pot that contains no coffee. The second sip rolls those nectarines in sherbet, which gives them a dusty citrus kick, something that is even more noticeable when swirling the liquid in the mouth; it is well acidic and pushes a hot galvanised-iron bucket on the length of the tongue. Finish: it is mellow and cake-like for a second, before it farts a huge cloud of diesel fumes, one that really sticks to the gob. It sucks on the street, but works remarkably well in this whisky. Hazelwood-fire smoke joins the diesel fumes and there are remnants of caramelised orange rinds on a zinc plate. It has a lingering bitterness at the death, part dusty zinc, part dried rosemary, yet the caramelised orange rinds give a sweetish counterpoint that works well. It seems more powerful at second gulp and leaves the tongue throbbing and a bit numb, closer to the effect of licking hot metal than that of a medical anaesthetic. When the taste buds slowly recover, they catch cut fruits (nectarines, oranges, chalky pears), milk chocolate, diesel fumes, a hot Moka tin pot and smoked sponge cake. I love this one. I find it even better than the 11yo. 8/10

Glendullan-Glenlivet 25yo 1965/1991 (51.1%, Cadenhead Original Collection, Oak Cask): funny how many online notes are from tasters who have tried this and the previous expression back to back too. theoldmanofhuy.blogspot.com: not breaking ground since 2012! Is this one repackaged old stock of the previous bottling? The differing bottling dates suggest not, but every other detail is the same and that is the time they moved from the dumpy brown bottles to tall green ones. There is only one way to find out! Worth noting that this entry in the Original Collection is at cask strength, not the 46% that is the norm for that range. Nose: if anything, it is even closer to the Industrial Revolution. hot boiler tanks, engine rooms and their sweaty operators. Halved apricots appear on the horizon, served on a hot zinc plate. In a way, it is very similar to the previous, yet it is hairier -- hairballs more than horse's hair, but still hairy. Citrus rinds are next, fried in a dry frying pan and there is a faint whiff of mint toothpaste in the distance, obfuscated by hot metal. The second nose sees hot flour ready for the baking, a metallic worktop heated by the sun, a spoonful of ground coffee in a dry filter, and the hot brass buttons of a dry-cleaned uniform. Something else shows up, after a while, and I cannot tell if it is a plastic garden sprayer full of fertiliser in a greenhouse or a plastic bottle of some beverage that has gone off. Mouth: peaches and nectarines smashed into a pulp and heated -- you guessed it! -- on a zinc plate. Chewing calls back the hairy, sweaty machinery operators, but the musk and hairy character do not hide much of the hot-fruits-on-hot-metal that dominate. It seems stronger than its predecessor, and leaves a few singed taste buds in its wake. Warm orange juice (unfiltered) claws its way to the top, augmented with caramelised chopped orange rinds. Mellower at second sip, it has pouring honey and Mirabelle jam. Chewing pumps a vegetal bitterness into it, gently-smoked nettles or bergamot foliage, more than plant-stem sap, thankfully. Finish: it produces quite a kick on the way down, then it unleashes no end of lovely citrus, mostly oranges, but also satsumas and clementines. Warm marmalade, caramelised peels, baked zest, crystallised segments covered in hot syrup. Make no mistake: it retains hot dusty metal and hair, now reduced to very-dry ancient ropes, but citrus lead the way. The second gulp is just as satisfying, with warm metal, warm citrus foliage and orange segments so saturated with diesel fumes they are virtually unrecognisable, closer in character to the engine of a gunboat than juicy fruits. This is clearly not the same bottling repackaged, unless there are major bottle variations. In any case, the one before was good, but this one is even better. 9/10