30/10/2020 Whisky for All #5: Clynelish Consciousness

As said yesterday, I will not be attending the Springbank tasting, tonight. But above the format not being my thing, it is also because of a double-booking. East Coast Whisky is doing their fifth Whisky for All tasting, and they are serving something I am interested in.

It is a Zoom call, tonight and, although Zoom is teh Evilz, I still much prefer it to a Youtube live, for an event like this; at least, there is interaction. It helps that there are only twelve or fifteen of us (some come and go), which keeps it from being an impersonal free for all.

Apart from JS and CJ, all attendees are new to me, with one notable exception: Colin Dunn was invited and has joined. He will mix old jokes with new (to me) stories, some of them quite touching. Good to see him in the audience, for once.

Clynelish 15yo d. 1997 (56.6%, Unknown Bottler, Refill Hogshead, C#5728, 24b, b#7): this seems to be the leftovers of a cask bottled by The Drambusters, which explains the low outturn. The sample's label is incorrect about the ABV: it is not 56.8%, but 56.6%, according to the bottle label (picture of bottle #3 below). Attention to detail, people! Nose: it is mildly leathery, with a dominant apricot jam note. Some kind of berry appears (snowberry?), followed by a minute pinch of ash. It becomes more delicate and sweeter with water. Mouth: lively and spicy, it has chutney-like jams and waxy apricot, as well as lychee jelly. Water does not alter it much, though it seemingly makes the ash more pronounced. Finish: long, peachy, the finish has a welcome (if strange) ashen dryness. It remains the same with water, perhaps slightly more bitter. 8/10

Clynelish 18yo 1996/2015 Series No. 3 Edgar Allan Poe (56.1%, Edition Spirits The First Editions - Authors' Series, Refill Hogshead, C#HL11170, 243b, b#76): nose: this one is a lot sharper and has the austerity dialled up a little, augmented as it is with lichen, spent wick and a generous pinch of ash. Barbour grease rocks up in a mechanic's workshop, meaning greasy rags and metallic toolboxes. Mouth: bone dry, drying, even, the palate has verdigris and mossy branches, cut last season and left out to dry. It soon moves towards apple and baked apple, which is a welcome respite. Finish: more verdigris, wild-apple peel and drying vegetation rub feathers with ashes and cigar ends. 8/10

Secret Highland 19yo 2000/2020 (52.4%, Whisky-Doris The Art Nouveau Collection, Refill Bourbon Hogshead, C#1417, 327b): nose: musty, funky, fox-like and animal, this reminds me why I stayed away from Clynelish for so long. It is akin to the 14yo OB: bottled essence of wet cat. The second nosing brings up lots of Barbour grease and old, greasy rags, betraying the same provenance as its sibling above. Mouth: it is a little subdued, here. It displays the trademark ash and spent wick next to burnt candles. The wet-cat scent is also to be found on the tongue, but not as pronounced as it was on the nose -- phew! Finish: seal wax, spent wick and lit tobacco. Water turns this one into a waxy deluge that becomes dryer in the finish. Saved by the mouth and finish. The nose was not my thing. 6/10

Clynelish 21yo 1995/2017 (54.6%, Douglas Laing Xtra Old Particular, Refill Hogshead, C#DL12014, 265b, b#237): nose: a clean, sappy, minty freshness leaps out of the glass, soon joined by windfall (neither talking about capital gain, nor about fruit, obviously), rotting on the forest floor. A soft layer of cooked egg enters the dance on the late tip. Mouth: rocky crystal (it makes no sense, I know), crystallised residue from a super-dry white wine. The "rocky" part above also hints at a certain minerality, here, with flint and opal. Finish: very dry again, desiccating, almost. Sauvignon blanc, flint again, cordite and, maybe, a whisper of smoke. This is okay; it requires some work. 7/10

Clynelish 22yo 1997/2019 (56.3%, Alambic Classique, Bourbon Barrel, C#19302, 174b): nose: I immediately think of a noble sherry cask, but no -- ex-Bourbon. Lacquered wood, teak oil, nail varnish, perhaps a drop of seal wax. It is very elegant. Mouth: more elegance and refined notes, with slightly thicker flavours than on the nose. It clings to the palate alright, shooting cinnamon and cassia bark all round. Finish: acidic, tangy, the finish sees more teak oil and varnish, accompanied by a spicy note too (cinnamon, cassia and allspice). Others find this one too sweet and I cannot understand them. Oh, well. 9/10

Clynelish 23yo 1990/2014 (49%, Adelphi Selection, Refill Bourbon Barrel, C#3233, 176b): nose: earthy wormwood and polished burr walnut, as well as a soft note of ash. Mouth: it is weirdly drying and juicy at the same time. I am puzzled. Plum juice and crushed plum stones, ingested the same way one would a margarita (lick the crushed plum stone, down the plum juice, bite on unripe-plum flesh). It is lively too. Finish: subdued, yet drying, it has quite a bit of fruit too (plum and white grape) which grows in intensity. Is that new rubber, after a wee while? Indeed! 8/10

I am feeling Clynelish fatigue, at this point. This exercise is great to detect nuances between drams from a same distillery, but the notes are relatively similar and tend to lose their exciting factor, for me. Six drams would be more than enough. Yet two have yet to come...

Clynelish 24yo 1993/2018 (48.1%, Càrn Mòr Celebration of the Cask, Bourbon Barrel, C#11214, 88b, b#37): the label is misprinted, on the sample; it is 24yo, not 25. Nose: an assault of purple berries -- blueberry, myrtle, sloe berry, billberry, gooseberry. A fleeting whiff of rancio disappears to make room for cream. Mouth: überfruity, the mouth bursts with blueberry and blackcurrant. The second sip brings forth ginger-infused custard, teeming with blue fruits. Finish: it is a blueberry explosion, now, with undertones of candle wick. This has Invergordon levels of berry onslaught. In the long run, a few cork shavings come up too, in a pleasant way. Amazing, this. 9/10

Clynelish 30yo 1972/2002 (46%, Murray McDavid Mission Selection Number One, American Oak, 600b, b#197): nose: with exactly zero surprise, this one pisses all over the previous drams from a comfortable altitude. It starts off with whiffs of clean linen sheets, soon replaced by minty custard, pineapple purée and squashed papaya. Mouth: lush and fruity to the brim, simply bursting with flavours. Light honey (both pouring and spreading), mirabelle plum, plump peach, then dried plantain skin. Finish: the bugger lasts forever, lingering on with glorious pineapple and papaya, peach slices and soft lichen on stave. The finish has an almost rum-y character, blending melted sugar and ripe fruit to perfection. I cannot wait to spend more time with the remainder of this. 10/10

Pleasant, if perfectible session. I liked:

• The smallish group
• The selection of whiskies
• The fact it did not take itself too seriously and was clearly independent (no presentation by a sales representative, no product placement or otherwise, except for one obvious joke, in which CD poured water out of a Johnnie Walker jug in front of the camera and called for everyone's attention)

I liked less:

• The fact the samples were not numbered: when the instruction was to go to dram #3, one had to have the email open to figure out which one #3 was 
• The slow pace, even by my standards, which says a lot: two and a half hours is a long time to stay focused, after a long work week
• The size of the selection: eight drams are too many to keep a semblance of order amongst the audience -- and indeed, it did turn into a collection of random storytelling, at some point, which further stretched the evening
• The apparent lack of structure: it felt more like a bottle-share bash with random strangers (who turned out to be good company, do not misread me), in which the host allowed others to take control of the conversation for long periods

In a commercial tasting (one that has an entrance fee), I like good and interesting whiskies, fun and anecdotes, and a little bit of learning about the featured distillery. Of the latter, I would have liked more.

29/10/2020 Cadenhead's virtual tasting

A couple of weeks ago, a string of J & A Mitchell tastings was announced: Hazelburn, Kilkerran, Longrow, Cadenhead and Springbank. Sample packs were purchased and subsequently received. 2cl of six different drams, for this one. The tiny bottles are made of plastic (grrr), and they have immutable, built-in pipettes that makes it very easy to add drop by drop, but very difficult to pour a measure. I spend about fifteen minutes pouring the six drams. Grrr.

Cameron McGeachy, Jenna McIntosh and Lewis Anderson host this session on Youtube and Facebook -- which means it is ex cathedra, with an occasional pause to read selected comments.

Dram #1

Glenrothes-Glenlivet 23yo b.2020 (46%, Cadenhead, Original Collection, 60% Bourbon + 40% Sherry Casks): this is part of the recent outturn for the revamped Original Collection, a collection that had been dormant for twelve years. Its coming back to replace the Small Batch range was met with mixed reactions. Nose: rhubarb tart, custard and peach jelly, heading towards cherry bake, rich with custard growing thicker, almost curd-like. Mouth: it is the ideal continuation of the nose, with peachy jelly, sweet marmalade, and a slight bitterness that reminds me of flower petals. Finish: again, it has jams and yellow fruits, as well as a gentle mineral side. Very moreish. "Perfect starter," says LA, and he is right. 7/10

Dram #2

A Speyside Distillery 18yo 2001/2020 (52.3%, Cadenhead for Virtual Open Day 2020, Bourbon and Sherry Casks, 552b): CMcG is at pains not to disclose the distillery (which, I suspect, probably rhymes with the fat lass), but manages. Nose: pastry, though the crust is baked a little too much, almost parched. The pastry filling has a few thyme leaves, surfing on an undercurrent of warm apricot compote. Mouth: it turns more metallic on the tongue, with thyme and sage, nigella seeds on warm apricot compote, and, later on, melted and warmed-up strawberry ice cream. Finish: strange finale with some tannins and ginger shavings on top of melted strawberry ice cream in which a cork has macerated a little too long. That last note turns into tame spices and wormwood, even rotting wood, in the long run. Decent drop, but despite CMcG's tried-and-tested, "I was surprised to see it is still available -- I might buy another bottle after the tasting, actually," I will not.7/10

Dram #3

Littlemill 29yo d.1991 (48.1%, Cask Sample, Bourbon Barrel): JMcI says a few words about Littlemill, Bishlouk gets a shout out for not being able to identify any Litllemill I pour him, then we dive in. Nose: custard-y, it soon churns out soft fruity tones of crushed maracuja and squashed dragon fruit, as well as papaya-scented cotton candy. That is well original! Mouth: subdued, for a second, the tropical fruits soon come back strong, if not loud -- maracuja, dragon fruit and white peach. Finish: soft, bitter, for a second, until the tropical fruits (passion fruit, dragon fruit) rush back to distribute gentle slaps. Again, it has a mild bitterness that feels woodier, here. Not much of the frequent grass, in this one: it is all fruit and wood. 9/10

Dram #4

Glendronach 30yo d.1990 (47.2%, Cask Sample, Bourbon Cask re-racked into First Fill Sherry Cask in 2013): nose: precious wood, wood lacquer, mahogany oil, encaustic and all sorts of waxes, thick, dark honey and caramelised quince paste. The second nosing brings toasted notes into the mix as well. Mouth: the same thick, dark honey -- oh! it is thick alright -- and waxy wood polish, teak oil. Later on, liquorice root and spent coffee grounds turn up too. Finish: dark chocolate, wood lacquer, a pinch of dry earth and coffee grounds. It is not an earthy dram, though; those are mere nuances that augment the elegant polished-wood notes. Love it. 8/10

Dram #5

Paul John 7yo (54.1%, Cask Sample): advertised as a 6yo on the leaflet, because CMcG cannot count, he admits himself. Nose: this time, more than wood polish, it is wet earth, bog water and mudflats. Distant barbecue, a fire in a bothy, all subtle. Peat grows bolder with time, never becoming invading. Mouth: more smoke on the palate, and much more power than the previous drams too. Peat smoke, bog myrtles, smoked blackcurrants. Finish: the smoke is now very obvious, fighting to get the better of the blackcurrants and myrtles. Another very good drop from PJ. 7/10

Dram #6

Caol Ila 29yo d.1991 (48.9%, Cask Sample, Bourbon Hogshead): nose: meow. The smoke in this one is in the background, a mixture of dry seashells, whelks, drying fishing nets, oil lamps and oilskins covered in sea spray. Lastly, a recently-varnished small boat and an ashtray, with hardly any ash in it also appear. Mouth: sweet and salty, it grows a smoky-cotton-candy side that is as delicious as it is odd. Quite a few spices too. The second sip brings unexpected strawberry bubble gum to the fore. Finish: wow! Salty! Lots and lots of salt, before peat and sea-fishing gear take over. The peat grows smokier and smokier, turning sooty as a Victorian chimney. A hint of dark chocolate completes the picture. Wow. I love this. 8/10

Cracking selection, but I found the format not engaging at all. About halfway through, I tuned out and tasted at my own pace, without paying too much attention to the hosts. The discussion between the three of them, I found to be generic and fairly basic, without even the pleasure of spending time with nice people (which they are), since it was virtual.

I am now thinking of not attending the Springbank tasting tomorrow and just tasting the samples on my own.

24/10/2020 One Bladnoch

Today, we are having the first incarnation of the so-called Flora & Fauna offering. The seal on the stopper is cream, whereas later batches have a black seal (and are very good). This is also from before Bladnoch and its stock were sold to Raymond Armstrong, and even from before United Distillers mothballed the distillery.

Bladnoch 10yo b.1991 (43%, OB, L1H 270686): nose: the least one can say is that it is not particularly expressive from the off. Soon, yellow flowers appear: forsythia, kerria Japonica, daffodils. Then, yellow plums, unripe apricots and beeswax. It is very "yellow"! The nose becomes more fragrant as time passes, emitting pleasant 1980s cologne for women (Ispahan, Yves Rocher's Magnolia) that turns very flowery rather quickly (gorse bushes, honeysuckle), and still retains that soft-yet-persistent beeswax. As I tilt the glass, the back nose has more cologne -- for men, this time: Hoggar, Denim, Savane... It is pepperier, in any case. Weird. Mouth: mellow and silky, the palate sees a broth of yellow flowers, with a tiny drop of manuka honey and pressed yellow plums, verging on apricot nectar, if thinner. The reduction is obvious, unfortunately, which makes for a thin texture; it certainly does not cling. Diluted peach juice, perhaps almond milk. It is the flowers that dominate, though, with hints of fruits, rather than the opposite. Finish: despite the relative weakness of the mouth (in terms of alcoholic strength), the finish delivers. It is more of the same, with yellow flowers (buttercups, forsythia, kerria), unripe apricots, and not enough wax or honey to hide the bitterness of the flowers. White chocolate appears, which is as pleasant as it is surprising, ground almonds (skins on), orange rind, covered in pine sap -- all discreet, mind. This is simply a great sipper. I could drink this all night with friends, as if it were a bottle of Chablis. If only I had friends! 8/10

23/10/2020 One Dalmore

This one is a leftover from the Adelphi tasting in May.

Dalmore 21yo 1998/2019 (57.2%, Adelphi Limited, Refill Bourbon Cask, C#8217, 132b): nose: compote is the loud, first note, yet it is quickly pushed aside by warm clay, plasticine and warmed rubber (think: hot water bottle). The back of the nose has something that reminds me of vegetation, maybe a geranium planter, or sherbet? The compotes come back, even if I cannot clearly decide between greengage, yellow plum and green-tomato chutney. Later on, a whiff of oiled wood comes up, mahogany or teak -- actually, it is definitely teak! With water, the nose is more boldly fruity, presenting cut plums, ripe bananas, mango slices, passion fruits in a new wicker basket.  Woah! Mouth: sharp and slightly astringent, it is edgy more than lively. Tomato chutney (not green tomatoes, this time; regular red), which includes the fruit's acidity and some wood polish... Oh! Tropical fruits rear their heads: Chinese gooseberry, passion fruit, neither of them fully ripe, therefore acidic and gently bitter. Tinned pineapple, left in an open tin for too long and tainted by the metal, tin-tainted papaya too, fruit juice, spilled on a teak plank. All that is promising, yet clumsy: the alcohol integration is not optimal and the fruit/tin/wood combination is a bit shaky. It becomes more stable on the palate with the addition of water; the wood and fruit coexist  more peacefully, if not in total harmony. Strangely water does not tone down the alcohol, which remains as present as when undiluted. It does remove the bitter, metallic edge, on the other hand, at least partly, and that allows currant juice to join forces with the (shyer) tropical fruit. Finish: never-ending, it brings back some of the fruit (passion) with more wood than tin, this time, which is probably good news. It leaves a milky impression in the gob, holding hands with the bitterness of tropical-fruit stones (mango or mangosteen). The finish benefits from water too: it tones down the bitterness, reducing it to that of currant skins. The fruity notes tend towards currants, now, instead of passion and mango. Still, it could be related to a Passõa-and-currant-juice cocktail. Boy, is this weird, or what? On neat taste alone, it probably deserves 7, but the general evolution of the whisky over time, especially with water, and those unexpected tropical fruits convince me to go higher. Entertaining dram, to say the least. 8/10

18/10/2020 One Fettercairn

Fettercairn 28yo 1988/2017 (48.9%, The Nectar of the Daily Drams special edition for TastToe, 16/06009): the label reads 2017 as the bottling date, but the bottle is ink-jetted 2016. It was likely bottled in 2016 for a 2017 release. Nose: with lots of cereals, this is yeasty and husky (boiled pork, marinated in red wine, and pot ale), yet it is also hay-like, broadcasting hay bales, onion seeds and mulch. Flat, strong cider and veal escalopes, funnily enough. I will not lie: there is also a steady dose of young alcohol, perhaps unaged pear spirit, which is incomprehensible, for a whisky this old. Chaff, dried hops -- we come back to cereals. Poultry food comes back (cereal-based, probably), and a strange crossing of maple-syrup biscuits and leather, as well as cut plums and a cider-based sauce, heated in a frying pan. Mouth: still grainy on the palate, it has more poultry food and chaff, straw and over-cooked veal escalopes. The pear spirit soon comes back to balance all that out, and the alcohol bite even suggests sea air or surgical alcohol. At this modest strength, it is unexpected, to say the least! Green tea enters the dance -- and is that a pinch of ash? The second sip brings grapefruit peel, bitter lemonade, tonic water, almost. The grapefruit's acidity takes over the bitterness, from the third sip on, never turning into a fruity serenade. Finish: long and warming, it is precise and narrow -- not quite blade-sharp, yet also not ample. Warm roasted barley, straw, warmed by the August sun, chaff and iodine, bordering on germoline. That medicinal touch is unexpected, yet persistent. It is not like drinking ether, obviously, but it is definitely there as an underlying structure. It gives this beautiful dram an additional dimension for the better. Citric acidity appears in the finish too, in the long run, and complements the predominantly cereal-y profile really well. It is surprising how sharp and lively this one is. It feels younger than it truly is, even though the manageable ABV make that totally acceptable. 8/10

11/10/2020 Two Littlemills

A name that went from mud to stardom in the space of less than ten years. It comes from the Gaelic Lidl-Mail, meaning low-price, epistolary correspondence service between supermarket branches.

My Gaelic is rusty, however. Do not quote me on the above.

Littlemill 12yo (40%, OB, L5/227/05, b.2005): the one through which the scandal happened. As recently as the early 2010s, some declared Littlemill disgusting, on the basis of this sole bottling. It was the (already-closed) distillery's flagship, under the dominion of Glen Catherine Bonded Warehouse, who had a very similar livery for their twelve-year-old Glen Scotia. David Stirk, in his 2002 book, hoped that it signalled new beginnings for Littlemill and that the distillery would soon re-open. As it turned out, the buildings would be destroyed by fire a couple of years after Stirk wrote that, and Littlemill would remain forever silent. Nose: very fresh and fruity, it has lots of cut orchard fruit (pears, apples) and little of the grass that irks some so much. I cannot even see how one would find this freshness to be soapy, in truth. Geranium, sherbet, apple mint and... a whisper of burnt wood. I find there to be something fishy, after a few minutes, maybe jellied eels, all the while the fruit turns darker, with preserved strawberries and, again, that whiff of burnt wood. Apricot jam joins, on the late tip, to add a sweeter aspect as well. It becomes caramelised apricot jam, in the space of one sniff. Breathing opens up the nose and makes it bolder, over time. Mouth: firstly, dilution is obvious and appears aggressive. Secondly, it is a tad soapy on the tongue, or cardboard-y. Or both. It is not a 1972 Edradour, yet I can see this bothering others more than it bothers me. Apricot marmalade is but a shadow of itself. I talk about the reduction, but I wonder if the dodgy screw cap has not let most of the alcohol evaporate, here. Faded mixed peel, remnants of apple mint, apple peels, age-old pineapple drops. Finish: no, it has not suffered from a huge ABV drop. It still kicks a bit; the palate is simply weak at 40%. Woodier tones appear in the finish: teak oil, wood varnish, lacquered cabinets. The second sip is fruitier, with pineapple drops and a pinch of citrus zest (grapefruit, lemon). Apricot jam has left the building, and, if anything, lemon marmalade has taken its place. Yellow wine from the Jura region, tangerine, dried peach slices and green tomatoes -- actually: green-tomato chutney. This is much fruitier than grassy, which matches my preference, but the palate is rather weak. 7/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

Littlemill 24yo 1990/2014 (50.6%, Maltbarn No.28, 158b): nose: without surprise, this one is much more explosive, with an almost-rum-y whiff of lichen, all sorts of dried fruits, covered in ground pepper and sawdust. Dried apricots, dried mango slices, sultanas, dried figs, mahogany oil, walnut oil, freshly-lacquered armchairs, air drying. A few minutes in, greasy earth and juicy grass appear, barely containing the exotic wood and rich fruits. Baked membrillo tart, kumquats in walnut oil. The wood takes over, and I catch myself hoping that it was not bottled too late. Water seems to tone down the wood, which allows the fruit to shine brighter. In its wake, soft pastry trails, apricot turnovers and shortcrust tartlets, straight out of the oven. In the long run, woodworm appears too. Mouth: the membrillo (quince paste) and dried apricots are there, as are dried mango slices, joined by rehydrated sultanas, fresh figs and dried dates. The back of the throat sees bursts of ripe tropical fruits (mango, papaya, pineapple), intertwined with walnut oil. It is almost impossible to ignore an assertive woodiness, though, which brings lots of white pepper, nutmeg, sawdust, ginger peel, at times hiding the juicy fruits. It is also sticky as a jam. Jam? Spices? Fruits? Mango chutney it is, then, left out in an open jar to gather a thin layer of dust. As it did on the nose, water eclipses most of the wood, making the palate seem fruitier, with mango and tinned peach shouting loud, and grass, far, far in the back. Finish: big, fruity, and a tad drying, it has copious doses of sawdust and white pepper meeting the ripe mango. It is as if the producers had decided that the tropical fruit had to be matched by as much ground walnut shells. The second sip seems more of a fruity onslaught, the sawdust slowly moving into the shadow, yet leaving a strange bitterness on the tongue. The bitterness remains in spite of added water, though it feels less prominent. It is more green hazelnut than crushed nutshells, at this point, which is probably good news, and complement the yellow/tropical fruit adequately. 8/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

07/10/2020 The Malt Whisky Guide

Another book review in which I want to talk about David Stirk's The Malt Whisky Guide (Making Whisky Fun), GW Publishing, 2002, including the 2003 addendum.

It follows the tried-and-tested formula of briefly explaining where whisky comes from and how it is made, before stopping at most distilleries. Stirk's criterion is to talk about those plants from which bottles are readily available (or were, in 2002). It means several household names such as Dufftown are not included, because Diageo was not widely bottling Dufftown yet. The 2003 addendum addresses that, and they now market it under the name The Singleton, but the 2002 edition of the book came out in a very different world.

The tone throughout the book is very enjoyable, direct yet sober, neither condescending, nor pontificating, and it never feels too scholarly. The content is informative to very informative; although a sea of content has been published since, I learnt things about several distilleries that I never read or heard elsewhere, neither in print, nor online. The work is also well illustrated, blending pictures taken for the book and never-before seen stock pictures.

It is particular in that it has an interesting format: it is a ring binder that allows one to add pages for tasting notes (available separately). The flipside of that is that several pages of the copy I read were missing -- probably twenty pages in total, keeping it just within what my attention span allows me to read. ;-)

Sheets for tasting notes

There are two aspects that I liked less. Firstly, there is a plethora of typos, mainly misspellings of its/it's. For a first book, one probably spends what little investment there is on pictures and content, rather than proofreaders. The grammar-police-officer side of me was mildly annoyed all the same.

One sheet per distillery, whisky on one side, history on the other

Secondly, although David starts off focusing on distilleries, he switches to brands / make types several times. For example, Springbank, Hazelburn and Longrow all have their respective entries for being different makes. That would be understandable, were the distillery description not exactly the same for all three. The Springbank distillery overview is pasted thrice, once for each make type. Same goes for Loch Lomond / Inchmurrin / Rhosdhu, and for Tobermory / Ledaig.

All in all, it is a good wee book, regardless of one's level. Well worth reading, if one can find it. It does not take itself too seriously, it is more than a basic introduction, and a promise of better things to come from a friendly character of the W world, who, indeed, went on to write an excellent archaeology essay about Campbeltown distilleries.

Now, let me follow Stirk's approach and try something that is accessible, in all possible ways.

Oban 14yo (43%, OB, b. ca early 2000s): nose: brine and sea spray sprinkled onto varnished wood and lukewarm marmalade. This nose has a good dose of nuts too, with salted peanuts perhaps most prominent, oily and, well, nutty. After a couple of minutes, the peanut oil morphs into linseed oil, before a heavier woody side emerges. It is exotic woods, with teak and ebony, then ink, bordering on metal. In the long run, the metal becomes burnt metal, and there might even be a pinch of charcoal in the mix. Mouth: though it gives a mellow mouthfeel, the dilution cannot totally remove the sea spray. What develops on the tongue, however, is juicy marmalade -- marmalade which would have been sprayed with sea salt. Pan-seared plums, juices running and all, before deglazing the pan with seawater. It reads weird, but it is excellent. Finally, apple compote with plenty of cracked black pepper. Finish: the salty fruity walkabout continues, with seawater, marmalade, burnt wood, in the distance, and the tiniest pinch of nigella seeds. Pepper appears too (it is no Talisker, mind!), but this is mostly a salty affair -- much more than I remembered. Retro-nasal olfaction brings back roasted peanuts and peanut oil too, ink has not totally disappeared, but it is discreet alright. It is always useful to go back to an entry-level, officially-bottled whisky and see how the producers showcase their flagship. This one is full of qualities. 7/10

Alright, Mr. Stirk. Like you, I have tried something available, affordable and approachable. Now, let me do away with those.

Oban 19yo (59.5%, OB The Manager's Dram, Refill Cask, SE 102, b.1995): nose: mute at first, it is only seconds before it leaps out of the glass screaming: PLASTICINE! WAXY FRUIT! SHINGLES! Oh! There is salty air too, but it takes a second role, here. The star is peppery lemon marmalade, spread onto shingles on the beach. A couple of minutes later, it is an old-school boiler, greasy charcoal, and the muddy footprints of the person who brought the charcoal in from the shed. The lemon marmalade comes back to claim its throne, which it does effortlessly, though it seems happy to share it with tinned sardines in virgin olive oil (tucked with a slice of lemon, for good measure). As said previously, sea air may be in the back seat, but it is not absent at all. Later on, alcohol-free after-shave lotion storms in, almost hiding a puffer's engine exhaust. Mouth: the palate starts velvety, in a lemon-marmalade sort of way, yet quickly sees a lichen-y note grow in intensity -- or is it verdigris? The texture is unctuous regardless, and the considerably-higher strength is perfectly tolerable neat (so much so that I will forget adding water). Citrus grows and grows, mostly Sicilian lemon, but calamansi too. Subtle white pepper, marmalade, unripe kiwi. The second sip invites green-chilli flakes, though the spiciness is very much under control. After a while, something slightly wine-y appears; my guess is a mulled white wine. Finish: assertive without being show-offish, the finish welcomes peppery citrus (calamansi and sweet lemon, once again), or white pepper on lemon marmalade. This time, it has a faint bitterness to it, reminiscent of tonic water -- is this the most expensive gin & tonic in the country? I seem to even detect cucumber peel, now! Despite the older age, this one has virtually no woods in the finish. It is all fruity cocktails, tame spices and even-tamer sea air. Oh! Pine wood? Pine needles? Late appearances, but it would seem that way, yes. Fulfilling dram, this. 9/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

03/10/2020 October outturn at the SMWS

Hard to believe it is the first trip to SMWS in more than seven months. It feels like a couple of weeks. The fact that PS and Dr. CD are there, soon joined by GK, increases that perception. Of course, they might as well live there -- they are always there. :-)

Social distancing, masks etc. are in place for everyone's comfort and safety.

Immediately, a reality check reminds me why we do not come here as often as we used to: the most interesting bottles this month, a 28yo Glen Ord and a 29yo Balblair, cost respectively £240 and £270 by the bottle. For the flight of five that comes along with the cheeseboard, they both count as two drams. In other words: the flight of five is, in fact, a flight of three, if one wants to try those two. To think not a decade ago, a 39yo Glen Moray would cost £250 and count as one dram... How the times have changed!

Enough useless nostalgia.

77.65 28yo 1992/2020 Pure dead brilliant (49.3%, SMWS Society Cask, 2nd Fill ex-Bourbon Barrel, 160b): nose: distant cereal, almost completely drowned in a sea of hand wash and hand moisturiser. Buttercups and daffodils team up with a touch of honeysuckle and growing citrus (ripe lemon, calamansi and pineapple peel). Mouth: flowery, it is also sharp on the palate, with the acidity of lemon zest. In fact, it shortly turns a bit sweeter, with calamansi and chamomile tea. Pineapple weed becomes more discernible, which looks like chamomile. Narcissus and buttercups reappear, as well as confectionery sugar, powdered onto cut apricots. Finish: all the above are coated in a thin layer of milk chocolate. Pineapple weed comes through most clearly, with calamansi in its shadow, a little. 8/10

51.18 18yo d.2001 There's something about Enya (54.8%, SMWS Society Cask, 1st Fill ex-Bourbon Barrel, 165b): aside from those 1988--1992 anonymous Irish offerings, one does not get to try a middle-aged, independently-bottled Bushmills very often. It is still a novel thing. Nose: flowery, flowery, flowery. Fragrant, it has orchids, lilac, cherry blossom, honeysuckle... and a lot of horsepower. And then: boom! It changes to deliver boiled sweets by the wheelbarrow: blackcurrant drops, blueberry drops and, finally, orange drops. Mouth: as soft on the tongue as it was hot on the nose. Moisturising cream, orange pulp, flower sap (honeysuckle), peach skin and talcum powder. It initially feels almost watery, yet it builds up a presence, given some time. Finish: mellow again, it showcases more peach and honeysuckle, soft icing sugar. This is juicy, mellow and very good. 8/10

70.41 29yo d.1990 Orchard beehives (49.5%, SMWS Society Cask, Refill ex-Bourbon Barrel, 165b): nose: salami in the making, hanging to dry and cure, old blotting paper, old bookshelves, then ink appears too, as well as a drop of watercolour. Faded jerky and sweet-paprika powder. Mouth: a little thin, at first, with diluted blackberry juice and delicate (watery) jam, a faint metallic whisper and a pinch of earth. Everything is tame and subtle, on this palate. Finish: the finish is big, on the other hand, with boisterous blackberry jam, blueberry muffin, and a lick of the knife that cut the muffins. It warms me up quite nicely -- a bonus in this piss-y weather. 8/10

66.177 14yo d.2006 Gummidge vs Pugwash (59.6%, SMWS Society Cask, Refill ex-Bourbon Hogshead, 275b): nose: typical Ardmore peat, soggy and farm-y, it also has beef jerky around a wet camp fire, shallow-fried seaweed and nori (dried-seaweed sheets). Despite the jerky, this is very much a vegetal dram, so far. Mouth: sweeter than expected, it has seaweed biscuits and vegetables on a peat-fuelled barbecue. A strange combination, really. Chilled-up jam on sweetmeal crackers. Finish: similar mix of vegetal peat, roasting in the fireplace and biscuit sweetness. Further, it is mango chutney and nigella seeds on sweetmeal crackers. 8/10

The rain has ceased. It seems like a good time to move on. Although the journey here was dry, the rest of the day has been fairly wet, altogether. Good bye GK, good bye Dr. CD, good bye PS.

PS: "What did you think of the Dumbarton?"
tOMoH: "Which Dumbarton?"
PS: "The Dumbarton that is behind the bar."
tOMoH: "Yours?"
PS: "No, from the previous outturn."
tOMoH: "Dumbarton or Inverleven?"
PS: "Dumbarton. [to the staff] A glass of Dumbarton, please!"

G14.7 33yo d.1986 A fabulous fusion (42.6%, SMWS Society Cask, Finished in 1st Fill ex-Moscatel Hogshead, 112b): an unusual cask in the best of cases, but for a grain? Unheard of. Nose: fruity and gently chemical (JS finds it swimming-pool chemical). Plum tart, baked mirabelle plums, greengages and melted toffee, and straw huts, heated by the sun. Mouth: juicy, it has the plum-y fruitiness from the nose, and some wine, too -- vin jaune du Jura, to be precise. Finish: Maitrank, Cognac, plums, mirabelle turnovers. This is so sweet and so interesting! Water does not change it much. Tomorrow, I will have a headache, but today, I am a believer. Dram of the day. 8/10 (Thanks for the dram, PS)

This time, we are off.