20/05/2022 Linlithgow

Linlithgow 22yo 1975/1998 (51.7%, Signatory Vintage Silent Stills, C#96/3/01, 335b, b#243, 98/0632): nose: meow. This is ethereal in the extreme, with lovely fragrances, such as women's perfume and white-flower shrubs (magnolia, lilac, and honeysuckle, to a lesser extent). Then, it becomes more vegetal, leafier, exhibiting ornamental-vine leaves and hazelnut involucres (cool word, huh? You're welcome). There is a drop of white-wine vinegar too. Deeper nosing makes this very close to a semi-dry white wine, fruity and unashamedly fragrant (Petit Chablis, perhaps?) That, in turns, becomes wider and sweeter, and ends up delivering a thin peach juice, maybe even umeshu (a Japanese plum wine). Not that it becomes sweet, mind! Simply sweeter. It is still a St. Magdalene, and it still has a clear mineral structure: granite chippings, limestone and slate are behind the leaves and the white wine. In fact, the leaves are soon loud enough again to cover up the stones. And they are augmented with recently-mown grass, one of the most pleasing scents in the world, if you ask the Old Man of Huy. What a nose! The second pass is deeper yet, softly earthier, and it also seems more herbaceous (it has dried tarragon and marjoram alongside apple mint). In the long run, the nose even develops a cured-meat touch. Water brings it back to bare essentials, with apple mint and pineappleweed, peach skins and foliage. Mouth: it is a totally different story upon entrance, austere as a rheumatism-crippled octogenarian. In no particular order, we have limestone, bone-dry white wine (think: Sauvignon Blanc), and even ashes. It has a hefty dose of white pepper too. All the same, it feels strangely and devilishly mischievous, as if it were proud to have lured you with the nose, then caught your palate off guard. The texture is thin, yet the spices (ground ginger and white pepper) wrap every single taste bud. The second sip, just like the nose did, adds a drop of subtle peach juice or umeshu. That does not do away with the spices: they are balanced, but well noticeable. Even a single drop of water has a dramatic effect: the spices have all but gone, and the impressive austerity now feels like orchard fruits. Ripe, squishy apples, conference pears, ripe citrons, the soft bitterness of ripe-citrus peel... or spinach. Weird. Finish: it is now a blend of the nose and mouth, in terms of feel: Here are herbs and dry white wine, slate and desiccated peach skins, vine leaves and, well, still a lot of pepper. The second sip is sweeter and fruitier to a degree, though that does not make this an easily-accessible dram, all of a sudden -- oh! noes. It is complex and challenging alright. On top of the spices and the minerality comes a bitterness conveyed by the generally-herbaceous character of it all. Water has the same effect it had on the mouth: vanished are the slate and the tarragon. It does retain some bitterness, but nothing, in comparison to what it had when unreduced. It is now a much more approachable dram altogether, one that has not lost all its complexity with water, yet one that feels less elitist and intimidating. Whether that is good or bad, I will let everyone decide for themselves. There are similarities with the two that we tried recently (the numbers suggest sister casks), yet this is even better. Wunderbar! 9/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)