20/04/2026 Teaninich

Teaninich 23yo d.1972 (64.95%, OB Rare Malts Selection, b#1323): nose: would it spoil the surprise for anyone to say it is a brute? This has the same effect as being hit on the olfactory organ with a lead pipe. Dust, metal filings, old zinc gutters, oxidised copper basins, Verdigris-riddled brass. It really takes a moment to see past that block of metal. Then, it has roasted apples and quinces, crunchy kakis and stepped-on dog faeces smeared across the concrete pavement. It probably reads horrid, but is actually rather intriguing. Also, it is but fleeting and soon makes way for prunes and dried currants. Let us be honest: that is much more appealing. It retains a metallic austerity, mind, and those dried fruits are presented on a zinc plate. The second nose welcomes old walnut and hazelnut shells splashed with a mix of pressed greengages and WD-40. There may even be a spray of furniture polish, which seems to replace the metallic shenanigans until one shakes the glass vigorously. Water calms it all down and allows juicy fruits to the surface: grapes, plums, greengages, stewed Galia melon. It is still warm, no longer frighteningly so. Mouth: 'burning' would be the wrong word. It is numbing, first and foremost. One could, again, compare it to being hit in the kisser by a lead pipe. Only when the numbness of the shock recedes does one realise the pain. Chewing brings out more metal (lead, zinc, galvanised iron, corroded brass), with only a discreet fruity touch to balance things out a little. Prunes in syrup, rehydrated currants, decaying greengages turned sour. We find very-dry lichen too that adds a gentle bitterness. And, to be clear, the fact it is gentle may be because it is smothered by the alcohol. The second sip offers a far more-perceptible bitter touch, somewhere between walnut stain , greengage stones and nut-tree sap. That is, once more, balanced by a timid fruitiness (rum-soaked sultanas). It still has a metallic note, but that is a far cry from the nosebleed we experienced initially. It is now limited to a metallic drinking vessel (pewter or zinc). Water turns the palate into a gentle green-grape juice, not even that concentrated or fruity. It is a lot sweeter without being sugary, and, well, an easy sipper. Finish: huge, it has stewed walnut flesh (talking about the fleshy fruit, not the nut at its core), prune stones, poached quinces and, surprisingly, much less of the afore-mentioned metals. That is confined to silverware (made of real silver) used to eat those fruits. The tongue and palate are left as numb as if they had been smacked with an oxidised silver spoon, yet little zinc or lead to note, if any. In the long run, we do find walnut flesh again. The second gulp cranks up the fruit: baked apples, quinces, kakis and Korean pears so hot that they cauterise the roof of the mouth and leave it throbbing. A lukewarm oxidised spoon is then applied to cool off the burn, which leaves -- you guessed it -- a metallic taste in the mouth. The addition of water gives us syrupy barley wine, as well as pressed peaches and plums augmented with a drop of cold jasmine tea. Interesting how water tames this beast, rendering it almost too meek. Very good drop with or without water. 8/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

17/04/2026 Talisker

There is much to infer about the state of the industry from the fact that Diageo, owners of Talisker, have started bottling single casks of one of their most-prized brands for private clients. This one for Hedonism is the first to come to our attention, but, two weeks later, Dornoch Castle Hotel announced their own such bottling. It had never been done. Probably, more will come.

Talisker 16yo b.268 (59.2%, OB specially bottled for Hedonism Wines, 15y ex-Bourbon American Hogshead + 1y Sherry Puncheon, 198b): nose: we have old boxes of spices, including bay leaves, cloves, cassia bark and black peppercorns. There are dried cherries too. What smoke we find is limited to a general cosy atmosphere in a rustic kitchen. We then discover warm shirt buttons and warm cocktails served in wooden cups. Cocktails? Yeah; rum, orange liqueur, pineapple juice. That is enjoyed in a freshly-waxed armchair on a hot summer evening. Ha! One can even smell some mosquito repellent on other patrons' skin. That is quite on point, seeing how Skye is infested by midges. The second nose sees moist textile of some kind, in continuation with the buttons from earlier. To follow, we have twigs and dead plants in a greenhouse, and the green wellies that go with it. Some really unlikely (if not unpleasant) notes, here! Mouth: oof! this is thick. Apricot nectar in texture, velvety and coating. Half a chew gives a gentle medicinal kick (hawthorn jelly caps), but what comes next is more in keeping with the distillery character: a copious dose of cracked black pepper and a bold alcohol bite. To even that out, grilled and roasted fruits (pineapple, apricot, papaya). It is smokier as it develops, and retro-nasal olfaction picks up a campfire in a coastal shelter. The second sip feels sweeter on entry. It may be mint crumbles, though it is fierce enough to be spearmint crumbles. Chewing brings out the same fruits again and adds unripe kumquat (and foliage) for shits and giggles. That makes the palate juicy and a tad bitterer. Finish: big and fiery, if not explosive, which means it is strong, numbing, yet not overpowering. It is also more traditional, here, with burnt wood and smoke. That said, it presents flint and fruit stones such as peach and avocado. There is less fruit flesh, on the other hand -- charred papaya, perhaps. We find a refreshing drop of bleach on top of that, or swimming-pool water (read: chlorine). It leaves the mouth as dry as if one had munched on chalk, though. The second gulp is closer to my preference, as fruits come out more (crystallised citrus taken with chopped mint leaves), wrapped in a hearty smoke. Smoked papaya skins and pineapple shavings rock up at the death. One more point awarded! 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, MSo)

13/04/2026 Laphwoar

Laphroaig 31yo 1974/2005 (49.7%, OB for La Maison du Whisky, Sherry Wood Casks, 910b, b#652): nose: phwoar! It has few fruits to begin with, if any; instead, we find tyres warmed by an hour on the race track, distant smoke and marzipan. Then, it is a scallop roll splashed with pressed-prune juice, and the water of rehydrated raisins and figs. I remember finding it rubbery, the first time, some twenty years ago, and, indeed, it has some of that, yet it is so well integrated, now, that it certainly does not tarnish the pleasure. It turns earthier, with dark mud and tarry soil, but we never shake off the prunes. With some insistence, we may spot caramelised lychee in amongst the earthy dried fruits and potting soil, as well as honey-glazed button mushrooms. The second nose brings a vaguely-maritime allure, scents of diesel and sea breeze in the sun-drenched harbour. Suddenly, a costermonger drives by in a van. Unripe bananas, plums, pomegranates, passion fruits, blueberries, mulberries, hazelnuts still attached to a cut branch, quinces and longans. There is a whisper of gas and faint manure too, as if the van were displacing a sewer's manhole, and that is oddly original. It any case, it is not a bright and clear fruitiness; it wrestles with darker, dirtier notes of rubber, smoke and decay. Mouth: immensely smoky on entry, peaty, borderline ashy. Half a chew creates an onslaught of fruits, tropical and otherwise, with dark cherries, purple passion fruits, smoked carambolas, cured peaches, caramelised lychees and snakehead fruits. It then produces a big slap of burnt wood and burnt tyre, with the latter becoming the dominant, acrid, bitter, sticky. More chewing helps us claw back some fruits coated in tar. The second sip appears more acidic and has brighter cherries (Lambert or even Rainier), a hazelnut paste made of unripe hazelnuts, gooseberry jelly, pink passion fruits and plums. Chewing increases the depth and we find that nectarines replace our plums, cured peaches and purple passion fruits (louder and louder) accompanied by a growing smoke, albeit thinner than earlier, acrid, yet still fruity, as emitted by a fire of fruit-tree wood. Caramelised lychee comes back to the fore too. Finish: it is tar and burnt rubber at first, and the acrid black smoke takes a while to settle. When it does, the costermonger is back. On the stall this time, caramelised chestnut shells. Behind them stand smoked cherries, cured peaches and apricots, rehydrated raisins and currants, prunes, smoked purple passion fruits, fresh figs, longans and chikoo. All that is experienced in a shed filled with dark smoke, surrounded by tyres and rubber fenders. The second gulp has bolder wood -- polished walnut armchairs in a room that also has an open fire. That introduces forest fruits such as bilberries, blackcurrants, myrtles, then smoked greengages, only to die with a kick of fleeting unripe passion fruit, which is to say it has a mild bitterness. All in all, it seems more youthful and uncouth than earlier in the year, but no less complex and enjoyable. To be perfectly clear, this is a masterpiece worthy of an irrepressible 'phwoar'. 10/10 (Thanks for the sample, dom666)

10/04/2026 Glen Mhor

Glen Mhor 1982/2009 (46%, Berry Bros. & Rudd Berrys' Own Selection, C#1231): nose: a whiff of sea air, brine-y, close to sea spray, albeit one from a warmer climate than the Moray Firth. Beneath that is a larder loaded with jars of marmalade, some of which are not tightly sealed. Sugary citrus, syrup and tin lids, then. This nose has a reassuring presence; maybe a basketful of logs by a wood stove in a room where marmalade is being made. It is rather grandmotherly -- if one accepts that one's grandmother may have lived not far from the sea. Yes: marmalade, wood, salty air and even gas, somehow. Oh! Nothing unpleasant; just a whisper of natural gas, as if there was also a gas stove on site. To follow all that, we detect warm metal. It is now dusty zinc gutters or galvanised-iron buckets, instead of tin. The second nose unearths dry blond tobacco and a little smoke coming out of it to supplement the inescapable marmalade, which happens to be spread on sponge cakes, now -- imagine PiM's without the chocolate coating. Mouth: it is definitely metallic on the tongue, and a little salty. Dusty disused boilers, ancient salt mills, salty marmalade in the tin lid of the jar it came out of. Chewing adds a strip of rubbery tyre still warm from the car race. This has a clear bitterness to it, though something dark and tarry, not leafy nor vegetal. Perhaps it has eucalyptus bark as well, and still that bold salt that now suggests salt water, not unlike drinking lukewarm sea water. The second sip manages to be both bitterer and sweeter. It should make no sense, yet it works perfectly. Lukewarm yuzu tea in which one dumped cigarette ashes. The light smoke comes from a boiler room, though, not from a cigarette. Finish: this demonstrates, as if we needed it, that 46% is a splendid strength. It allows the flavours to shine, while retaining some bite. We have tyres, salt, dusty metal, old spoons, a lick of black liquorice bootlace, creosote, tar and even mentholated-cigarette ash, after a long while. The whole is sprinkled with ground mace, which is original. The second gulp stirs up more marmalade (yuzu more than orange), blows ciggy smoke on it, and sprinkles it with ground mace and metal filings. That is experienced while sitting on a zinc gutter on the edge of the roof of a seaside bungalow. Superb old-schooler. 8/10

06/04/2026 Undisclosed Speyside

Speyside Region 44yo 1973/2017 (47.4%, East Village Whisky Company, Sherry Butt, 142b, b#125): we had this one a couple of times (here and here), but never on its own. Nose: smashed strawberries aplenty! Strawberries on Biscote, dried strawberries, strawberry coulis... Say! this could easily be seen as a one-hit-wonder. What a hit, though. Jelly follows and you will never guess what kind it is -- strawberry. Ha! It turns darker and more serious, with caramel coulis and a dash of liqueur (strawberry liqueur?), before pushing some kind of pink flowers reminiscent of cherry blossom. Then, we find boiled sweets and strawberry chewing gum mingling with beetroot peels, root-y and earthy as one would think. How original! There may be some raspberries in the middle as well. The second nose centres on woodier tones, with fruity-cinnamon-y yoghurt, papier mâché and pink edible paper. Strawberries do come back, of course, but more fleetingly. Mouth: gorgeously fruity, it has more of the strawberry avalanche -- smashed, in a coulis, jellied... All are here. The texture is silky and creamy until one chews, at which point, it comes across as pure fruit juice (berries, you guessed it), perhaps augmented with a drop of nail varnish and a slice of banana. Come to think of it, it has Haribo Bananas, soft, sweet and made a tad acidic by a sprinkle of sherbet.. Retro-nasal olfaction detects the most-minute woodiness, with cinnamon bark and mixed peel past its prime. The second sip is a little bitter: satsuma peels and a delicate ginger paste to complement the strawberry parade. It becomes chewy too, like an orange-and-strawberry-flavoured papier mâché. Finish: surprisingly full and assertive for the ABV, it rolls out the strawberry-coloured carpet: smashed strawberries on Biscote, strawberry jelly, but also dried pineapple rings and mango slices, as well as a lovely vanilla custard in which all those are blended. The second gulp brings us a satsuma-flavoured yoghurt, which is quite a departure from before. Acidic and a trifle bitter, sprinkled with mango powder, yet it remains creamy. In fact, it dies with a breath of fresh, if not overly-juicy, mango. Wow. Simple-ish, but efficient. 9/10 (Thanks for the dram, OB)