Glenburgie 30yo 1983/2013 (51.5%, Signatory Vintage 30th Anniversary Waldhaus am See St. Moritz, C#9822, 164b): nose: old, hardened honey, slatted racks, covered in honey, and pollen, dropped on cedarwood sheets -- phwoar! A minute in, flowers storm the scene, buttercups, daffodils, daisies, and chamomile... In fact, it morphs into a flowery powerhouse, almost to the point of becoming a flower-scented soap bar. However, just as it is about to reach that point, it turns around, and unexpectedly gives wood varnish -- varnished birch wood planks. And then, it start from the beginning again, though the honey-pollen side is now fleeting only, while the flowery side is augmented with cosmetic powders of sorts. The second nose seems somewhat greener, with tobacco leaves, leafy laurel, and rocket, or watercress at room temperature. That is supplemented by a dollop of liquid hand soap that is anything but bothering, according to this taster. That changes again with subsequent sips to display chicory infusion. Mouth: the palate has a schizophrenic honeyed-woody personality -- imagine honey spread onto a wooden plank, sprinkled with sawdust. Said wood imparts a distinct spiciness (ginger, asafoetida) that piques one's interest. Swirling the whisky around the mouth helps buckwheat honey come out, alongside Suc des Vosges. The second sip seems sweeter, with liquid honey, crushed pine needles, and, again, Suc des Vosges sweets. The mood is increasingly alpine. Finish: it is grand, here, with an assertive-not-aggressive kick, wood spices, the heat of a pine bonfire, and warm pollen. It is lacking sweetness to call any honey, sadly, and, actually, the soft bitterness of bay leaves settles in, after a minute. It is a long finish alright, one that produces a warm, fuzzy feeling, akin to a bowl of hot soup, or a glass of wheat beer on a summer day. What is this? Ash? Yes! Cigar ash, and dried cigar leaves. The second gulp is sweeter too: sweets appear, borderline minty, now. The spices from earlier are now reduced to crushed green cardamom and cedarwood-sheet splinters. Nice. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, OB)
Inchgower 12yo b.1991 (59%, James MacArthur Fine Malt Selection exclusive to The Mini Bottle Club (U.K.), C#10661, 180b): nose: incredibly shy, at 59%; there is barely any alcohol, even. With a bit of time and concentration, we end up seeing alcohol-soaked corks, cask bungs, and pure-alcohol vapours. At a push, we may find a bit of wood, in a blink-and-you-miss-it way. Perhaps unripe stone fruits that smell of stone, not of fruit. We also have hazelnut shells, an a tiny drop of nail-varnish remover. How long was this in a cask for? The second nose is a little more talkative, introducing citrus juice (lime or lemon), splashed onto a wooden door. We have cotton pads too, which, of course, does little to render this more boisterous! A mere drop of water transforms this into a walk on the pier; sea breeze, sea spray, mixed with the fumes from the wood fires in the nearby settlement. Maybe bone-dry lime peels too, though that may just be suggestion. There is clearly some smoke, on the other hand; it even grows more obvious, over time. Mouth: warm, not hot, it feels astonishingly mellow, a texture of apricot juice, a gentle, as-yet-unidentified fruitiness, and some nuts. With little surprise, it grows in power with time, and, after thirty seconds, ends up boiler hot. In parallel, the afore-mentioned nuttiness also grows more pronounced, and it brings along a bitterer touch. Nutty custard, we will call it, whether that is hazelnuts or almonds. The second sip adds wood -- a log pile, stored in a shed, dry, waiting to be burnt. Citrus grows in presence, candied lime peels, pomelo zest. Paying close attention helps detect a vague saltiness, brine or sea spray, bolder as the citrus rises. Water makes this fresher, and distinctly saltier too: it loses none of its liveliness -- in fact, it gains some. It is remarkably saltier, now, full of sea spray, and has a serving of dried kelp too. Finish: so easy to swallow it is hard to believe this is really 59%. The bitterness from the palate is well present, here, and, after an initial acidity has given way, propels a mix of vine leaves, almond skins, a hazelnut-skin broth, and flower stems to the fore. All that is blended together with a hand blender, and brought to a simmer. The result joins warm hazelnut custard, and the whole is topped with a dash of lime juice. The finish too, repeated sipping makes more citrus-y, and, if it is not quite a tequila shot, it does head towards a slice of lime and a lick of salt. Against all odds, the finish is sweeter with a drop of water. We are now sipping a delicious lime water, citrus-y, sweetened, with only a pinch of salt to make sure we are thirsty enough to order another one. Well, here is a comfy dram that is positively transformed by water! 8/10
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