14/09/2022 Poit Dhubh

Poit Dhubh 12yo (46%, Pràban na Linne, L3314MD455 1 18 14): the proprietors of Torabhaig have been making this since long before they had their own distillery. Strangely, they appear as Phraban na Linne on the label of the big bottle of the same era, as opposed to Pràban na Linne here, and on the Web site. Nose: saline and peppery, this smells exactly what one could expect of an Island whisky. Rollmops, anchovies, and cardboard in brine (what?), which serves as a reminder that this has spent over two decades in a bottle. Still, behind that vague cardboard-y feel is a force of nature; sea-hit rocks, surf, driftwood. If someone were to claim that this is full of Talisker, I would gladly believe them! It is not over, though: freshly-applied shoe polish, a bowl of crème brûlée, and warm metal (cylinder head of an Aston Martin DB5, to be precise). Yes, the more one sniffs this, the more steel is given. To a point, in fact, where we discover orange marmalade, and it is stained by the tin lid. Then, coins and Murmeltier Salbe rise -- the coins are none too old, and probably not made of copper, rather an alloy of sorts. I want to say it is smoky, but I actually struggle to detect any smoke in this. It is simply assertive without smoke. The second nose does away with the cardboard, and comes closer to smoked mackerel fillets, covered in cracked black pepper. India ink is the last thing to come forward. Mouth: velvety at first, it has an initial honey-like texture, soothing and comfortable. Swirl it around the palate for a fraction of a second, and coins come charging in. This feels like licking nickel or brass, a proper door-handle story. It is warming, too, as a good chicory infusion would be, and, although the coins are clear headliners, honey does not entirely go away. Chicory infusion plays a strong second role, sometimes accompanied by infused thyme. There is indeed a gentle leafy bitterness that the second sip alleviates with a tiny drop of jam or compote (cranberry is a decent approximation). Still, it is very much a chicory-and-coins number. Finish: big and bold, though still not smoky. Here are chicory granules, fenugreek, annatto seeds, and cat litter. Honey is reduced to a bare minimum, here, yet it provides a soft sweetness that is most welcome. We have some cereals, such as stale porridge, toasted Horlicks, warmed flapjacks, and oat milk. One can still detect some metal, deep down the oesophagus, nowhere near as prominent as it once was. On the other hand, if black pepper is not in your face, it becomes clear, after a minute or two, that it is one of this dram's strongest undercurrents. The second sip leaves a creamy bitterness in the mouth, quite close to a sip of milk chicory infusion, augmented with almond liqueur. Or Amaretti biscuits. In any case, it is nice. Terribly well made. I like it more than the couple of more-recent versions that I have tried. 8/10