Ben Nevis 1970/1988 (46%, Brae Dean Int. for Moon Import The Sea, Sherry Butt, C#2913, 360b, b#267): nose: a marvellous combination of brown shoe polish applied onto soft-leather moccasins, hazelnut spread and light cigars (Laguito No. 3, perhaps, or Carlotta). It has a dirty, funky background, something I did not notice (as much) in previous encounters (here and here), but it is a Ben Nevis, so it is not really surprising. Walnut spread and chestnut purée gradually replace the hazelnut and, at the same time, a soft metallic touch emerges. It is somehow reminiscent of that unmistakable smell of a new motherboard wrapped in an anti-static plastic bag. Anyone who has ever assembled a desktop from individual parts will know. Finally, it peddles coffee, ashes in the desk ashtray and black liquorice rolls. Fun! The second nose pumps coffee and caramel into the mix, or an enticing mocha custard. Take it from someone who is not a fan of mocha. There is something else in the back that may be caramelised orange slices. It adds a gentle fruitiness that is most welcome. Mouth: mellow and sweet, it feels like chewy sweets such as Gummy Sweet Cherries or Cola Bottles. Chewing adds a mild sting (ginger or stem ginger), yet it fans the Cola-Bottle flames most of all. It is at once spicy and syrupy, which confirms the stem-ginger note, but has so much more to tell: milk coffee, Mokatine, caramel, sweet and a little bitter. It has more wood than honey, yet that wood, despite its bitterness, is undeniably sweet too -- and that is not plain resin. Maybe Gocce Pino filling applied on clustered splinters? The second sip is thinner for a second, then turns into thick marmalade sprinkled with mocha grounds. The alcohol bite fleetingly hints at warm zinc or galvanised iron, or a hot Moka tin pot. It is breakfast-y, in any case: marmalade, custard, mocha. Finish: long, it glows heat and conifer goodies (resin, bark) as well as Mokatine and caramel coffee. Considering how coating and syrupy this is, it would be tempting to call stem ginger again, but there is none of the spicy heat that ginger provides. Instead, it is caramel coffee spilled onto cypress shelves. The second gulp opens with candied citrus (bergamot, bitter orange), chewy and vegetal as if the foliage had been candied too. That, of course, means a gentle bitterness to balance what could otherwise become overly sweet. We find mocha grounds at the death, or grated mocha chocolate. I want to say gunpowder tea, but it is not that bitter, and it is earthier. It is staggeringly good, that is for sure. 9/10
HB, TMcN!






















