24/04/2024 Whiskies we have tried before

A (virtual) tasting two years in the making, since it is that long ago that STL gave us this series of samples. "Two years a stave," I think they say. The theme is only revealed at the end, after we all fail to guess it. By the way, I am cheating, tonight. I tried all these whiskies over the last couple of weeks, in preparation.

Aside STL, joining us tonight are dom666, Bishlouk, red71, ruckus, Gaija, JS, Psycho, and tOMoH, obviously.

Bishlouk initially cannot see or hear us. Since IT is all about turning it off and on again, I kick him out so he can rejoin.

STL: "How does it feel, tOMoH?"
tOMoH: "Listen: I have a hard-on."

Spot the intruder

"I don't seem to have #1. I do have a #7, on the other hand, which makes no sense..."

Dram #1

Collegiate comments: lively and punchy (Gaija), slightly soapy (ruckus), it has some pepper (Bishlouk), and indistinct spices (Psycho).

Nose: amusingly, this offers a dash of dry white wine (borderline grappa, or brandy) on crummy biscuit. Those biscuits turn into blondies, taken straight out of the oven by a blonde baker who has just washed her hair. It has a minor salty tang that struggles to be noticed, underneath that vanilla sugar -- a struggle that is likely what inspired the shampooed blond hair impression, since it comes across as softy soapy. We are clearly in a bakery, however, in which sourdough and shortbread dough share a tray, before boarding the same oven. Minutes later, a faint flowery scent materialises, magnolia, especially, soft, fragrant, and inviting. Later yet, we have poached pear, slowly overtaken by confectionary sugar and lichen. The second nose has more shampooed blond hair, and a silicone baking mat as one uses to work dough on (e.g., GWHOLE). Said mat is covered in confectionary sugar and buttery dough scraps. Mouth: lively and youthful, it stings a little. Brandy again, perhaps apple brandy, this time around, not aged, yet made more interesting by a whisper of smoke. Once the palate gets over the heat, grapes arrive, mostly dark, with a few green ones for balance. The texture is that of grape juice, and it has flashes of bitterness that one could easily imagine are given by those grapes' pips. A woolly sweetness is perceptible throughout, if not too clearly identifiable. The second sip seems more of a tranquil force, oily, still explosive, less impulsive. If greengage eau-de-vie exists, it must taste like this. Knowing humans, tOMoH would be surprised if it did not exist. So, greengages, muscovado sugar, and galvanised iron heated on a naked flame. Finish: lovely and balanced, here are more grapes (mostly green, now) and vanilla biscuits with a pinch of salt in the distance. It is voluptuous and creamy, reminiscent of Custard Creams, more than shortbreads, save for the salt. Besides, it has a lick of green stuff (unripe nuts of sorts), which adds some bitterness, if not acidity. All things considered, it may well be some of those green grapes that are not totally ripe. The second gulp is a little more shaky, which will prevent a higher score. Vine leaves, grape skins, greengage skins, and not much fruit flesh left. The fruit skins are carried in a steel bucket for shits and giggles.

Comment: not perfect, but good and interesting. Lots of guesses, all wrong. My Moscatel-Cask attempt does get a nod of approval from STL, but it is not that. red71 had tried this before, and even selected it for STL.

Domaine des Hautes Glaces 4yo 2011/2015 Ceros (53.3%, OB for Belgium, Jura Yellow Wine Cask, 566b) 7/10 (Tasted on 10/04/2024)

STL: "Je partage ton avis à propos du brandy de pomme. Et du Metaxa, aussi."
tOMoH: "Oui. Enfin, non. J'ai pas qu'ça."

STL: "J'avais noté que l'alcool est présent, mais pas rédhibitoire."
tOMoH: "T'as remarqué que, dans rédhibitoire, il y a 'bite'?"

(The schoolboy pleasantries above are not worth translating.)

Dram #2

Collegiate comments: leather fading into liquorice (dom666), oriental spices and curry (Bishlouk), dried thyme on the palate (tOMoH), mineral in a chlorinated, swimming-pool way (Gaija), and a vague bitterness. Bishlouk vocally dislikes this, to a point he wonders if his sample has gone off.

Nose: this one is earthier, ashier like a bone-dry wine. Burnt vine, Pinot Grigio, and Verdigris, scraped off the copper still with a sickle. It has a drop of fruit eau-de-vie too, plum or even grape, yet that ashy note is what easily presides over everything else. It borders on hot metal filings, or swarf. In fact, a few minutes in, it is full of metal filings, straight off the turn mill, then lichen on hot slate. Lastly, gravel and other small ornamental stones, very dry and dusty. This has just the legal minimum of fruits, and then it is only dry grapes. A pretty austere number! The second nose has faded brown crayons, purple eye makeup, then dry white wine, served under a pergola. It makes me think of a summer in Germany, although I cannot explain that image simply. Mouth: another one that could masquerade as a grappa. Sharp, slightly herbal (dried lichen, nothing luxuriant), ashy grapes that give close to no juice, quarry dust, and ash. It gains a juicier texture, in the long run, though none of the sweetness that usually goes along, and a growing bitterness -- vine cut many seasons ago, totally dead and dried as a result. Furious chewing captures a light fruitiness, after all, which is welcome. It is still bone-dry grapes, though. The second sip is mellower, silky, and... No! Ashes are back, burnt vines, leaves, fruits and all. We have grape-pip oil, especially in terms of texture, yet it also includes a minor bitterness that would manifest itself with those pips. Finish: it is surprisingly more approachable, at this stage. More of those dry grapes, crunchy, ashy, and a little bitter. It would be fairly close to iceberg lettuce, were that not full of water. It appears as a short finish, until one realises how thoroughly coating it actually is. The gob is in the same state as after a glass of Chablis, which is pleasant indeed. Ashes and half-burnt vine leaves linger. Repeated sipping tones down the ashes a little: grapes become juicier and sweeter. Oh! they never shake off either the bitterness or the ashidity (you read it here first), but it feels more welcoming all the same. It ends up reminiscent of a Fin Bois Cognac.

Comment: this grows on me. Upon reveal, we are incredulous. We have all tasted this, and no-one recognises it, nor detects any similarity with our recollection. We acknowledge that, that night, it was overshadowed by a forty-three-year-old Tomatin, but nevertheless. Better or worse, it is more remarkable, tonight.

Tomatin 11yo 2009/2021 (54.9%, Le Gus't for La Confrérie du Whisky, Bourbon Barrel, C#262, 217b, b#36) 7/10 (Tasted on 11/04/2024)

red71 [addressing Bishlouk's dislike]: "Important to know that, when he filled those forty samples, STL peed in one."

Dram #3

Collegiate comments: spicy, pumped with iodine (dom666), desiccating (Bishlouk and ruckus), astringent (dom666), cocoa (Gaija), dusty (Psycho), it even has coffee in the end, which does not bother me.

Nose: a thick, earthy Sherry, just as the colour suggested. Flor, dark wood covered in patina, matte-black shoe polish, walnut stain, then a drop of washing-up liquid on a plate that has held barbecued skewers, and is consequently covered in charred and oily tatters. It does not smell soapy per se; it is more the scents that soaps tend to be given: citrus and pine. Mint, at a push. In other words, under a veneer of roast meats is a pleasant fruity freshness, shy, but it is there. The second nose introduces a cup of coffee, and augments it with fruit juice (blueberry, blackcurrant, plum), and crème de cassis. It must be afternoon tea, because the next thing is a buttery shortcrust, a plum (or berry) pie. Interestingly, we go back to washing-up liquid, this time with green rubber gloves. Mouth: bold, acrid, desiccating. The initial picture is of licking a black-watercolour pot while smoking a cigar. Warming-and-a-half, hairy and leathery, it tickles the mouth with torched horse's hair. When all that cools off a bit, we discover a shy fruitiness in warm-compote form (lingonberry, elderberry), and a slice of baked tangerine, for fun. The second sip seems even more stripping and desiccating, and we note Scotch Brite abrasive pads joining the horse's hair. Once again, it feels rather hot, though it is not over the top Repeated sipping takes us back near the barbecue, with charred ribs and juicy pork chops, embers, and an oily-herbaceous marinade to accompany the afore-mentioned fruits. Finish: astonishingly indistinct. Maybe, I kept it too long in the mouth, and it was cut with too much saliva. It leaves the roof of the mouth numb, and offers a puddle of elderberry compote, as well as warmed smashed blueberries and blackcurrants. A minute bitterness subsists with those berries. The second sip (after keeping it much shorter in the mouth) is warmer and sharper. Hot plums, blueberries, and myrtles, doused in boiling eau-de-vie. It is a rich and wide eau-de-vie, to be clear; simply heated. A pronounced bitterness lingers, some unripe fruit or another (the green fruit of which a walnut is the core comes to mind), and recently-polished furniture made of amber-coloured wood. Retro-nasal olfaction picks up older wood too, dusty oaken shelves, or suchlike.

Comment: another one red71 had a hand in selecting. Our jaws drop when we are told the ABV. It is strong alright, but does not feel that strong. I venture a T distillery, Tullibardine, or Tamnavulin, something that would be a little unassuming and indistinct, without the monstrous-Sherry-cask boost. Upon being told I am on the right track, I venture Tormore, or Tobermory, and forget one of them.

Tamdhu 14yo 2007/2021 (67%, Douglas Laing Old Particular Exclusive Bottling especially for Dram 242, Walter Bellis, Windels, Sherry Butt, C#DL14835, 391b) 7/10 (Tasted on 12/04/2024)

dom666: "I work in a lab. 100% ABV exists. I know, I've tried it."
tOMoH: "Is that when you started losing your hair?"

Dram #4

Collegiate comments: "I feel as if I've put salty dried sausage on my tongue" (Psycho), dirty potatoes (Gaija), phenols (dom666), horseradish (Gaija), wasabi or Japanese mustard (Psycho, who feels the need to explain the difference), soft on the palate (red71), iodine (Psycho), a tad sugary on the tongue (Gaija), Golden Delicious apple (STL), rather floury Jonagold apple (Psycho).

Nose: salt and smoke, focaccia out of the oven, salt-and-seaweed crackers, pork cracklings, dried rosemary, salt-water-cured sand patties, mudflats by a great salt lake, and a tiny petrolic touch that somehow makes me think of fracking. We have dried seaweed, sprinkled with salt, and a delicate peat smoke shows up late in the game, with a glossy-blue-paint tin as backup, and Horlicks so toasted that sneezing in their vicinity would be enough to send them into a pile of dust. Distant pickled onions surface, as one tilts the glass. The second nose has more hydrocarbons, petrol-station fumes on a hot, sunny day in the middle of the desert, and a packet of smoky-ketchup crisps that has sat on the shelf in the same hot sun for too long. It has something else too that comes closer to salted-caramel ice cream, yet less sweet. Salted-caramel-coated nuts, maybe. Mouth: it has a bite, and then rubs salt in the wound, quite literally. This is very salty -- so salty it is easy to overlook the undeniable mossy peat which gives this the texture of a wet-sand cake. Mudflats, seaweed parcels, focaccia dunked in salt water (yeah, that works less well, here), and exhaust fumes. Yellow bulldozers come to mind, for some reason. The second sip is fresher, and it is definitely salted-caramel-coated macadamia nuts. Lots of salt, mind. We never stray too far from wet sands, lapped by salt water, and riddled with black tarry veins. It has a dash of lemon juice too. Finish: it is more mellow than expected, almost cake-like, for a second, before bringing in mint paste, and, ultimately, a profile closer to what one might expect: wet sands, mudflats, generously-salted nori. The second gulp adds a drop of lemon juice again, and a dash of unleaded petrol. The intrusive saltiness feels more under control, which leaves more room for that petrolic lick to really talk. Salty-petrolic-sandy caramel custard. Striking how this is obviously very peaty, yet that translates into salty seaweed, petrol and so on, rather than other markers, such as farmyard, or fire smoke. With some imagination, one might detect surgical alcohol or other medicinal notes, perhaps.

Comment: one that Bishlouk has tried before. I guess a young, Bourbon-casked Lagavulin, as I find it close in profile to the eight-year-old Islay casks that Cadenhead bottles (the ones with a blue label). It is an undisclosed Islay single malt indeed. It does the trick.

The Nameless Three 5yo 2014/2020 (50.8%, The Whisky Mercenary) 7/10 (Tasted on 15/04/2024)

dom666 pulls out a five-year-old Lagavulin he proposes to bring next time we meet in person -- and breaks the cork to the general hilarity.

Dram #5

Collegiate comments: nope. Everyone is too busy socialising and laughing at dom666's cork-breaking skills.

Nose: speaking of farmyard... This has "cow's backside" written all over it in broad strokes of liquid dung. Midden, muck, manure spread on fields... For half-a-second, we have a fishing boat and seabird guano, then we firmly go back to the overwhelming cattle smells. Beside all that manure, we have another type of fertiliser, namely garden lime -- hessian sacks full of it. That said, it is well hidden behind that bold wave of muck. A few minutes later, a bowl of mud enters the scene, heated by the summer sun. It has so much water in it it may as well be silt, though it is a little shy with the fetid stagnant water for that. Aaaaand, back to the farm. Cow stables, a piggery, dung, hen droppings, and muck of all kinds, juicy and sticky. Yum! Watercolour appears on the late tip. The second nose has a warmed plasticine patty in a harbour. That seems to be the turning point, after which we note candied pineapple cubes and dried mango slices, dried and earthy, but also sweet and fruity. It retains some farm scents, much more restrained. Mouth: oh! yes, watercolour indeed. It has some syrupy spices (mace, stem ginger), mixed peel, and candied bark of some kind. It is delicately fruity, which offers a respite from the relentless farminess of the nose. That farminess, here, becomes a warm milk churn -- a nice change. Astonishingly, the second sip is much more acidic, all candied pomelo peels and preserved limes. Considering how salty it is too, it would be all too easy to liken this to a margarita. A whisper of hazel smoke, and roasted lime slices. Only a small piece of cheese reminds one of the earlier farm-y character. Finish: sweet and rich, we have a combination of mixed peel, candied angelica, candied mace, stem ginger, hardened gelatine, mint-and-basil jelly, and soft cheese (unripe Brie or Camembert). It could also have a spoonful of pouring honey in a cup of (luke)warm milk. We spot a light saltiness to it too, as if that honeyed milk came with a serving of steamed cockles. Repeated sipping pours vase water on the above, and makes the whole much boggier and more marsh-like, stagnant water blended with preserved-lime brine. We spot charred citrus skins at the death. Very good, this.

Comment: tasted by Bishlouk before, who has tried a lot of things, for someone who often reminds us he is no longer that interested in whisky. There is a touch of fruit in the finish that I cannot remember from the other day. I say a Staoisha, or a Kilchoman, the latter less likely, as too cattle-y, not muddy enough. Perhaps an Ardmore, Gaija agrees, or a Faemussach. Nope.

Port Charlotte 2002/2015 (55.4%, Malts of Scotland, Bourbon Barrel, C#MoS15011, 238b) 8/10 (Tasted on 15/04/2024)

STL: "Les échanges sont cordiaux."

tOMoH: "Les échanges sont cordiaux, les O. sont corniauds."

dom666: "One is cordial too."

tOMoH: "He only laughed."

dom666: "He's an O. McCain. Those who talk the least eat the most."

Psycho: "And, indeed, have you seen how much he eats?"

ruckus: "Well, I'm on a diet..."

Good fun. Lots of the usual nonsense, interesting drams, and a generous splash of teh gigglez.

23/04/2024 Clydeside

Clydeside d.2018 (61.6%, Cask Sample, 1st Fill Oloroso Cask): nose: mute. Maybe everything is smothered by the significant ABV, but it is not saying much. Distant mint sauce, at a push, though that may be my brain playing tricks, after last night's curry. Five minutes' breathing, and, descending from on high, we have coffee grounds, dry and drying, mocha powder, and white-hot metal, which is a regular note of higher-strength whiskies, I find. Slowly, veeeeeery slowly, something sweet stretches its wings; Turkish delights, fruit jellies, Gummibärchen. Yes, that sweet note confidently unfolds, supported by limestone. More precisely, it is citrus-flavoured fruit jellies, now, orange and lemon. Yet further on, this lovely sweetness takes the form of fudge and Scottish tablet, then burnt cake crust. Wow! To think this was mute, a moment ago... Now, someone paying close attention may detect a vegetative note too, cabbage-cooking water, marsh gas, old downpipes, or even boiled eggs (do I hear the chemists say: "hydrogen sulfide"?) Those are extremely fleeting, and not a flaw, in tOMoH's opinion -- just a reminder that even fruit jellies end in the same place (the one that is celebrated in a Bigod20 song). Tilting the glass increases the sulphur-y notes, which now become more mineral than gaseous: cordite, matchbox striker, lighter flint. What a welcome surprise! Welcome? Yes: it adds another layer, and it is tame enough to not risk bothering anyone. The second nose is more-immediately talkative, but still surprisingly discreet. Sweet, with fruit cordial, jellies, made in the workshop of a smoker (Virginia tobacco), and a pinch of grated black cardamom. Oh! and faint flowers too, likely jasmine but so faint, it is hard to tell. Phwoar! Water dials up the hot-metal note, a hot Moka pot, deglazed with grenadine or sweetened orange juice. Against all odds, it works. Mouth: holy smoke! This is sweet and fruity. Turkish delights, and tons of (red) fruit jellies, soon submerged by a pronounced heat. This is pretty strong, after all. Rum-soaked membrillo, potent punch, in which someone dropped a few flintstones, candied berries on a hot slate. One gets accustomed to the heat relatively easily, which allows fruit jellies to really shine. The second sip is syrupy, just on the right side of sickly sweet. It has fruit jams on steroid, membrillo and fig pastes, strawberry jelly, and a dash of grenadine (the good stuff; not that industrial shite). A soft nuttiness seems to ease in, after a minute, a gentle bitterness to counterbalance the otherwise-overwhelming sweet notes. Candied pistachios, jellied walnuts, and, well, fruit jellies, still. The mouth is initially softer with water, though soon becomes more acidic (oranges gone wild), before calming down and offering more fruit jellies, alongside mixed peel. Finish: this is an Oloroso cask? It could easily pass for a Ruby Port -- or even a fruit-jelly cask. The whisky is clearly sweet and fruity, which is not what many would recognise as a typical ex-Oloroso-cask profile. Zero complaint here, mind! Membrillo, rose-petal jelly, rosehip, grenadine, Turkish delights, and, of course at that strength, a lick of hot metal. The second gulp introduces milk chocolate, perhaps mocha-augmented, which goes well with those jellies. With water, it remains sweet, yet les so. Again, we see more citrus jellies than red-fruit ones, now, candied citrus segments and slices, mixed peel, and marmalade, if less bitter. Let us call it jam, then. Another excellent Clydeside. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, DH)

22/04/2024 Glenugie

We had this seven years ago. Time to revisit it and spend more time with it.

Glenugie d.1980 (58.1%, Cadenhead, C#3657, b#170): nose: just pouring it fills the room with a thick, savoury smell, red miso paste or Marmite. It is also game-y, with cured venison in a wine sauce. Inhaling closely reveals a layer of fruits, currants and prunes soaked in a wine-and-OXO-broth blend, concealed under a veil of flor. Yet it is also earthy, dry potting soil and squashed elderberries. One gets the impression of Pedro Ximénez and Oloroso blended together, which is complex, and intriguing. A little further on, we spot caramelised red onions fried in butter, and pearl onions, those are nowhere near as dominant as I remembered them, which I find a good thing. Blueberries join the jig, blackcurrant jelly, purple ink, and a musky tone, which is hardly a surprise, with this colour. Both red onions and earth grow in intensity, the latter becoming more limescale-like and drier with each sniff. The afore-mentioned fruits never allow the whole to be too austere, mind; the spray some sort of cordial at regular interval to dampen the onion-y earthiness. The second nose has rancio, dunnage-warehouse floor, then barbecue sauce, raisins sizzling in a pan, with a dash of water and a drizzle of olive oil. It goes from earthy to fruity and back again effortlessly, even introducing purple marshmallow to red onions for a playful dialogue. Mouth: it is very dry, for a second, then suddenly turns juicy, with blackcurrant and blueberry, elderberry and prune, yet also blood orange and red grapefruit. Wide, acidic, chewy, this is a delight, really! Of the red onions, only the caramelised juices remain, sweet and syrupy. On the other hand, we note the appearance of generously-sugared milk coffee to augment the above fruits. The second sip is still juicy as fook, perhaps sweeter too, oranges and grapefruits now in fruit-jelly form, chewy, sweet, and mouth watering. The imaginative taster may find a note of conifer too: fresh, springy pine cones, and sappy resin, more than acidic needles. Earlier, the earthy touch hinted at a pine-forest floor, dry and acidic. Now, it is all sweetness and fruits, with mere hints of pine trees. Finish: warming comforting, strangely mild, for this high ABV. Milk coffee with lots of sugar, prune syrup, pressed currants and raisins, candied blush-orange slices, elderberry soaked in wine -- in Patras wine, maybe. Repeated sipping does not change the profile drastically: it keeps an earthy side, limited to milk coffee, and kindly unwraps sweet fruits, candied and plump -- raisins, elderberries, plums, alongside blood oranges and red grapefruit segments, all so sweetened there is hardly any acidity in them. A gentle earthiness resurfaces over time, a mocha chocolate coulis to pour on fruits, a chococino and even hints of liquorice roots. The more one quaffs it, the clearer the fruits. In the end, the acidity of that citrus pokes the taste buds a little -- just a little. I find this extraordinary, today, even though it is more a great Sherry cask than a Glenugie. It is comforting, despite its huge complexity, and fruity, despite a definite earthiness. 10/10 (Thanks for the sample, DH)

20/04/2024 Les Éditions Albyn Michel présentent...

Yes, we have used that pun before. Get over it.

Glen Albyn 20yo 1969/1989 (55%, Signatory Vintage, Oak Casks, C#483-484, 1000b, b#195): nose: oooh! Citrus-y! Clementines, mandarines, tangerines, then roasted melon and a discreet-yet-clear whiff of smoke. That transforms into something waxier, and it is hard to decide whether it is scented candles, or a plastic hand-wash dispenser. At any rate, it is lovely. We lean towards scented candles, since it has spent wick too. The scent, by the way, is flowery, lavender-y, hence why one may associate it with hand wash, I suppose. Is it Parma Violet, all of a sudden? It is a sweet, violet-flavoured, chewy paste that comes out of a tube. Some are groaning already, whilst others rejoice. tOMoH sits somewhere in the middle. It is only fleeting anyway. Gone already. The second nose is oilier and grassier; candied angelica comes to mind, though it could also be coriander and parsley, preserved in oil. Over time, it takes on the morning smell of a mountain refuge in the Dolomites: cold fireplace, tobacco smoke, coffee gone cold, a pile of logs, and mountain vegetation all around (mosses, lichens, saxifrage...) It also has heated tin, Moka-pot style. Surely, that goes with the coffee. Mouth: bitter-sweet attack, with green shenanigans, sweets of all kinds (red sour belts, cuberdons, mint crumbles), but also smoke, charred mixed peel, and, yes, a droplet of hand wash. It is all augmented with a sprinkle of ground black pepper, and the bitter lick becomes a mix of dried lime zest and candied angelica shavings, wrapped in menthol tobacco. The second sip appears sweeter than it is bitter, with caramel, mocha custard, a hot Moka pot, in which a genius dropped sugar cubes (do not!), and a growing earthy side amidst that milky texture. Finish: citrus is as explosive as it was on the first nose, mixed peel made of lime, pomelo, Shaddock, and yuzu peels. This has candied angelica too, in small doses, and, if it is not nigella seeds, it must be charred mint stems. The whole mouth is left refreshed, then thirsty. Perhaps this is what ingesting mint ashes feels like? The second gulp has heavily-sugared milk coffee (sixteen -- for those who know), a slice of orange dunked into that coffee, warm fudge, and herbs so subtle that they are hard to identify. Dried coriander and hawthorn, maybe? Not sure. It is a warming, comforting, creamy finish for sure. Much better than the 1964 we had last year. 8/10

17/04/2024 A funny peir

Napier (46%, unknown bottler): a mysterious sample that does not read more than that. Nose: warmed, hardened rubber, caramelised sugar, Bakelite, burnt cake crust, wood shelves polished so long ago that almost all scent has vanished. A drop of orange juice joins the party, somewhat later on, far from exuberant. On its tail is shoe polish, then empty plastic bottles, baked in the scorching sun. What is striking is how sequential all those aromas are; no dance, no interplay: they do show up one after the other, without as much as a handshake. Mouth: inoffensive, middle-of-the-road. It recycles the notes from the nose, i.e., warm plastic bottles, orange juice (not freshly squeezed, by the way), middle-aged shelves, which gives a noticeable bitterness, and burnt sugar. The second sip appears bitterer and fruitier, with the addition of chewy dried orange peels. Finish: caramelised orange juice spilled on wooden shelves and Bakelite. Not much more to say. It is warming, unpretentious and uncomplicated, clearly designed to be drunk, not tasted, and it would probably liven up a social event neat, on ice, or in a cocktail (with crème caramel, a slice of orange, and a plastic stirrer). The second gulp may have a spoonful of melted milk chocolate, which is nice. Unfussy, uninteresting. 6/10 (Thanks for the sample, DH)

Have we time for another one? Chain Pier would be a phonetically logical follow-up, but that will be for another time. The next best thing is...

Imperial d.1969 (40%, Gordon & MacPhail Connoisseurs Choice, b. ca. 1983): the full bottle in the same livery is a fourteen year-old. It is relatively safe to assume this is the same juice. Nose: phwoar! What a difference. A strong OME, of course, with ground pepper and musty dust. I get vivid flashbacks of a friend's parents' disused sauna, in the early 1990s. It was in working order, but, for years, had laid dormant, gathered dust, and been used as a tool shed. That and its exposure to the sun made it acquire a dusty-wood, earthy smell, not unpleasant, if pungent. Well, this here Imperial is very similar, both in profile and intensity. Next to that, we also observe oily nuts (gathering dust too) and pickle brine, unless it is polished avocado stones. Swiftly, we come back to earthy tones, now cool forest floor and potting soil, perhaps augmented with fallen petals. The second nose has logs covered in lichen and moss, pears turning mouldy, and limestone pulled out of a riverbed, dried, but covered in lichen and algae. Oh! and a touch of lemon mint to boot. In the long run, the nose's earthiness takes on a farm-y side, dusty farm paths and clods of rich earth from the field, mixed with ashes to rejuvenate the soil. Mouth: for the first time in so many years of trying brown-label Connoisseurs Choice miniatures, it feels a tad watery, and I blame the sequence, rather than any loss of strength, despite the level being lower than it must have been at first (see picture). Once one gets accustomed to it being lower in alcohol than the Napier, it paints a fruity-flowery picture, with orchard fruits and mint -- apple, white peach, nectarine, minty yoghurt, and a wooden board, in the background, still teasing the mind with those sauna benches. The second sip has cold marinated-mushroom salad, for a wee bit, which ends up overtaken by pine honey on a Biscotte. Indeed, it becomes surprisingly sweet and fresh, while displaying the soft acidity of fresh pine cones. Finish: gently warming, it remains fruity (warm apple compote, baked nectarines) and fresh (warm lemon-mint custard), pushing the wooden benches to the background, yet it also adds a whisper of smoke. Fruit-tree smoke, it perhaps goes without saying. Not much -- if any -- of the pepper makes it this far, though that is not to say this is not spicy; it is closer to ground mace and sumac is all. The second gulp focuses on fresh and fruity, steering towards pine-honey-glazed (Golden Delicious) apple slices, served with chopped lemon mint. It has a very minor sparkly bitterness at the death, dried lemon-tonic residue in an empty glass the morning after, and still that soft smoke. I am led to believe these minis are all good. 8/10 (With a nod to BAl, whose sauna I have never used)

It would appear we had tried the Imperial previously. Ah, well. It was a decade ago, and another bottle.

16/04/2024 Ailsa Bay

Here is a name we do not see often round these parts. In fact, it is the second on this blog, eight years after the first, which, incidentally, I tried in DH's company, the same DH who provided this here sample.

Ailsa Bay 7yo (unknown ABV, Cask Sample, ex-French Red Wine Cask): nose: French wine? Really? This smells thick, syrupy, and liqueur-like, close to a fortified wine from Iberia. Membrillo, candied dates, fig jam, sirop de Liège, sweet, fruity, yet with a clear earthy note that promises complexity (who said "tertiary developments"?) Perhaps we have portabella-mushrooms juice, caramelising in the pan with date nectar or cranberry molasses. The influence of the wine is immense, without a doubt; it is simply difficult to associate it with a French red wine: they tend to be more tannic, and much less sweet than this smells. This has dried currants and black bun, burnt panettone crust, and fruits (plum, poached pear, or lychee), doused in date syrup. There are even hints of biscuit in this nose -- let us call it Petit Beurre, to match the geographical provenance. The second nose reveals honey pops and caramelised wheat puffs, then slowly sheds the cereals to focus on the honey. It soon adds charred pink peppercorns for a laugh. Mouth: ah! Wine it is, after all, then. Acidic, earthy-dry, and warming. Here are dry forest floor, heated by direct sun light, wild mushrooms (fresh, and, especially, dried), tannins, and a game-y note that falls between roast beef and wild boar. Roast boar? It has tree bark too, closer to cassia than cinnamon, and is generally reminiscent of those ornamental spice mixes every Christmas-market wooden-tat stall seems to receive as part of their starter kit: dried orange slices, star aniseed, cloves, cinnamon sticks... The second sip is as sharp, almost stripping (almost), before providing a certain sweetness -- imparted by citrus fruits. Cointreau-filled PiM's and pralines. Indeed, we have (dark) chocolate, fruit jelly, and alcohol. Winning. Finish: It is fruity again, and juicy too. Mandarines, clementines, wine-cured oranges, cold mulled wine, and jasmine buds, soaked in that mulled wine. It is a long finish, if not a shouty one. Similar to marmalade on toast, it will quietly take over one's taste buds, and keep hold of them long after the toast itself has hit the stomach. The second gulp has booze-boosted (boozted?) plums, boozy nectarines, and generally speaking, the leftover fruits in an empty bowl of sangria. This is good and original, although one may not wish to drink litres of it. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, DH)

09/04/2024 Toots' Cask

Glenfarclas (unknown ABV, Cask Sample): Forsyth, who make and maintain stills for so many distilleries in Scotland, own casks. This is one of them, known as Toots' Cask. It is occasionally sampled to entertain visiting clients. To know it is a 'farclas does not help much, since we do not know the age, the vintage, the type of cask (Sherry is an educated guess), when it was drawn (probably in 2023 or 2024), or even the ABV. How it ended in tOMoH's glass is tOMoH's business. Nose: powerful wafts of dried dates and dried figs, served with a glass of Sherry (Palo Cortado, maybe? It seems too dry for a PX, yet too sweet for an Oloroso). It has got a ladle of thick gravy too, a bunch of flowers, nearly dried (faded jasmine, lilac, lily-of-the-valley), and warm roast beef or cured venison in the kitchen next door. Interesting combination. It works! Further on, we find cranberry compote, caramelised red onions, and the pan they were fried in, deglazed with a dash of liqueur-like Sherry. The second nose is darker, thicker, and earthier, reminiscent of Marmite, or of some mushroom paste, if not quite miso. One could say this has become full of umami. Mind you, it also has oily tobacco, blonde and mentholated, then raisins, loud and clear. It is almost certainly an ex-PX cask, after all. Not that it matters really. Mouth: potent. It attacks the tongue with a pickaxe, and the chippings therefrom erode the enamel. Time on the palate gives this a thick, chewy texture, and leaves the teeth rough, as if incompletely polished. It has got a faint mineral bitterness that reintroduces a lick of Sherry. Indeed, a few minutes in, a certain sweetness returns, fresh, and mouthwatering. The second sip brings back dried dates, sprinkled with desert dirt to keep them well dry. It is earthier alright, although it never loses sight of that excellent fruitiness: dried dates to the the end. How potent though! It probably tickles 60%. Finish: wow! this is bold. Parts of the mouth are almost on fire, whereas others are fresh as mint leaves. The tongue is all numb, yet that is not the sole source of this newfound freshness; aniseed, star anise, cloves all contribute to that effect. Repeated sipping unveils cough syrup on steroids, sweet, fresh, decongesting, and a tad earthy-herbal. This has the same effect as a brisk walk at dawn, when it is still chilly and humid. Foryth's clients have it good! 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, kind donor)

08/04/2024 Loch Lomond

Loch Lomond d.2014 (55.7%, Cask Sample, 1st Fill Sauternes Cask): drawn in 2024. Nose: a strange combination of melted milk chocolate and thick (purple) nail varnish. Second later, we have oily Brazil nuts mingling with turpentine, then pencil-lead shavings, and mahogany shelves. We soon return to melted chocolate, now augmented with soft spices -- saffron, turmeric, faded garam masala,. The second nose offers toasted  barley and honey pops, caramelised puffed wheat, and fewer spice, altogether. Shaking the glass lets a whiff of raw spirit through, which reminds one of the whisky's youth, something that is made up for by a whisper of hardened Turkish delights. Later on, old pencils arrive with old cartons. Odd. Mouth: hazelnut paste pumped with spices -- ginger, cinnamon bark, turmeric, a pinch of asafoetida, ground mace, and a spoonful of honey for good measure. It is sweet, spicy, somewhat bitter (cassia bark, perhaps? Laurel?), and has an astringency imparted by an alcohol that has not had enough time to totally integrate. Retro-nasal olfaction catches a waxy note, maybe plasticine. The second sip has caramelised wheat puffs, unscented hand sanitiser, and a spinach-based curry rich with ground coriander, and a dash of unripe-lime juice. Finish: mellow and comfortable, it starts with the creamy  character of a hazelnut paste, then steps up when spices join it: stem ginger, turmeric powder, a pinch of asafoetida, and a dollop of dark honey. The second gulp confirms the stem ginger, adds macadamia nuts, and underlines the whole with crushed bay leaves. Those bay leaves bring a gentle (not too gentle) bitterness that also points at unripe citrus; lime, or pomelo peels, to be precise. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, DH)

05/04/2024 Glen Scotia

Glen Scotia d.2017 (57.8%, Cask Sample, 1st Fill Oloroso, Sherry Cask): an unreleased cask, hence the missing bottling year. This sample was taken from cask in 2024 nose: a strong slap of a hefty white wine, or an eau-de-vie, in fact. Grappa, Quetsch, Slivovice, young brandy. It has that ester-y fruitiness that white eaux-de-vie often have -- plum, unripe pear. A stainless-steel plate grows louder and louder, then crushed Douglas fir needles. This clears the nostrils alright! It takes a few sniffs for it to cough up some wood; patina-covered furniture and thick amber honey. It has oily rags too. The second nose transforms those oily rags into an oily nut spread on a Biscotte, yet it insists on having a steel plate go with it, and it comes close to (clean) engine parts. Mouth: thin and metallic, this is akin to licking a copper tray, for a moment. Slowly but surely, sweeter things rise up, namely dried apricots, raisins, dried cranberries (still tart), all alongside something woody: log stools, honey toasts served on a wooden tray, and some ginger, even. The second sip is still metallic, and more stripping: it attacks the gums and polishes the teeth, readying them for a coat of honey and walnut spread that, once the stripping effect fades out, is as good as it is welcome. Finish: quite a kick in the throat this assails with powdered ginger, before delivering dried fruits: sultanas, dried dates, and dried apricot slices, splashed with a dash of varnish or lacquer. It is a long, warming finish that pinches the sides of the tongue. The second gulp has candied greengages, golden sultanas, and stem ginger drenched in syrup. That syrup could easily pass as a pine-flavoured paste too, so fresh it is. This is still a bit young, but promising, One would struggle to guess an Oloroso-cask maturation, though. It is much sweeter than that suggests. 7/10 (Thanks for the sample, DH)

03/04/2024 Glen Ord

Glen Ord 25yo 1978/2004 (58.3%, OB, 3600b): nose: most peculiar! It is at once austere and welcoming: we spot black peppercorns, and chipped flint alongside pressed raisins. The latter really takes off too, and the juicy sweetness turns to dried dates and figs, currants and prunes, though the strongest note is one of golden sultanas. It is hard not to think of a Fino Sherry, or a Manzanilla. And then, the austere side comes back: Verdigris, quarry dust, ground pepper. Later still, woody tones surface, a sea captain's chest, dry from centuries in a museum, driftwood kept indoors for many decades, and a piece of sticky-toffee pudding in the room next door. Perhaps we have warm sand too. It is probably closer to a heap of sand on a construction site than to a beach under the tropics, yet here it is, loud and clear. Magically and surprisingly, dried fruits come back strong, sultanas, dates, dried tangerine segments, dusted with a blend of 50% confectionary sugar, 50% quarry dust, 50% ground white pepper, 33% mathematical incompetence. Imagination may pick up génépi-flavoured chewing gum too. Three drops of water, a bit of swirling around and a brief marrying time reveal boiled sweets, still warm, and not fully hardened yet. Also Turkish delights stored in the sun, dripping with sugar, and, in the back, Mokatine, which comes as a complete surprise. It still has some quarry dust, but that is now very much in the background. Mouth: quite the attack, this! Cough syrup on steroids, maple syrup mixed with quarry dust, pepermint cough drops (yes, that means Fisherman's Friends), dried ginger gratings, and thuja bark. This is really rather brutal, without the crescendo of heat of a preceding half-a-dozen drams! Pepper emerges, carried by leaves (holly or rhododendron -- it is not as if they were edible, so how should we know, eh?) The second sip has quarry chippings splashed with a syrup of sorts; instinct says maple, but it is too herbal for that. Unless it is herbs macerated in maple syrup? Why not, after all? It is waxy leaves, in any case: ivy, rhododendron, laurel, and a spray of furniture wax, sprayed by someone wearing rubber boots. All that is covered in quarry dust and ground white pepper. There is the most minute whisper of smoke, extremely fleeting. It stays powerful with water, but becomes a lot sweeter. It has boiled sweets here too, crystallised red grapefruit, crystallised myrtles, and redcurrant-flavoured Sugus or Starburst. A minute on the tongue unveils a pronounced bitterness, more unripe currants than green hazelnuts. Repeated sipping pushes forward an oily woodiness, mahogany or walnut, almost heady. Finish: as expected after that big mouth (strikes again), the finish is huge too, dusty, peppery, and peppermint-y. It has dried ivy leaves, crushed into little more than a powder, and remnants of of a herbal eau-de-vie -- grappa, génépi, aguardiente de hierbas). Hell! this even has aniseed (thankfully not as sickly as in Ricard) or lovage seeds. Sweeter at second gulp, it has crumbly mint drops, spearmint, and crystallised bergamot. It feels more approachable, it it remains frankly herbal and pretty strong. Gentian, candied angelica, fresh marjoram, lemon mint that comes pretty close to being metallic. With water, it is a myrtle-and-blackberry cordial diluted in gin rather than water. It works excellently too! The death has something interestingly earthy, drying, with dried potting soil, hardened mulch, and bay leaves. Further sips shine a light on the same oily-wood aspect as it did on the palate. Never a bother, that underlines a soft, lingering bitterness. Phwoar! Excellent drop. Only a matter of personal taste prevent me from going to 9. 8/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

26/03/2024 Two unassuming drams

Glen Grant 40yo 1972/2012 (51.6%, Maltbarn, Sherry Cask, 49b): nose: hehehe! A sea of beeswax and honey, propolis and furniture patina. It has maple syrup, candied peach slices, and mirabelle-plum tarts, dripping with melted sugars. Hot on their heels are baked physalis and wax applied on a green car body. Scratch that! That car body is glazed in honey. Acacia honey, manuka honey, prickle-pear honey, a dollop of Douglas-fir honey, and a spoonful of resin. Phonetically close, we have raisins too, or sultanas, to be accurate (the golden type of raisins), converging towards fresh grapes (between Sultana and Crimson Seedless). Further back comes a whiff of a newly-oiled light-wood bench (birch or acacia). The second nose is perhaps even more expressive, with a slightly different angle: this time, it has a fruity yoghurt of sorts, or stewed apricots bathed in custard. Later yet, we note baked tangerines (segments and foliage) and clementines (ditto). It is as if the honeys had muted into fruits, definitely citrus. Out of nowhere, a cloud of coal dust appears, subtle, and closer to charcoal-cracker dust than to soot, but still. Mouth: refreshing at first, it soon acquires a spicy edge -- fierce ginger, galangal, mace, and asafoetida manage to conceal sweeter notes of honey and dried apricot. Those are there alright; they just take some effort to discern. Oak splinters rub elbows with maple syrup, gold-crusted bread meets dark honey and other spreads yet to be identified (walnut?) The second sip has the same spices, with more emphasis on asafoetida, perhaps, which gives it an almost-butyric quality, with zero of the oiliness one may associate with that. Still, chewing allows maple syrup and honey to resurface, powered by ginger peel and cinnamon-bark splinters. The whole surfs on a texture of coconut water, though it does not taste of coconut. Over time, light-wood shelves join in. Finish: big and long, it offers a solid woody profile, full of set dark honey and pine-cone oil (why not?) It has a clear minty freshness too that flirts with liquorice root in terms of intensity, yet has none of the bitterness. Indeed, the 'woody' qualifier brings comfort and rusticity, not plank-y dryness, more set dark honey on black bread than dusty old bookshelves and lemongrass. The warmth that this exudes is impressive; slow-going, but unstoppable. Five minutes after swallowing, the whole bust feels as if it had been sunburnt -- though in a pleasant way. The second gulp has a fleeting full-fat-milk feel to it, before honeys make a comeback -- pine-tree, or prickle-pear honey on charcoal crackers, dark, softly bitter, and cleansing, or so it feels. The burning heat is borderline worrying, after a while. Based on a scene in Fat Man and Little Boy / Shadow Makers, I would liken it to being exposed to Gamma radiation, and burning alive from the inside. Obviously, it is not that bad, here, a pleasant, if irrepressible glow, and I hope never to find out how accurate that comparison is. All the same, that is the mental picture it conjures up, this whisky. To come across as less doomy, let me say it feels like eating a slightly-too-hot apricot compote, or a similarly-hot peach jelly. This is pure class. So glad to have had a chance to try this micro-outturn. 9/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

Let us have another forty-year-old Glen Grain.

Cambus 40yo b.2016 (52.7%, OB, Hogsheads, 1812b, b#0685): nose: perhaps it has been sitting in a sample bottle for too long (has it really been seven years?), because it feels shyer than it should. It certainly has pineapple and papaya (papineapple?), yet they are buried under a layer of dust. A minute of breathing fixes that. Pineapple chunks, dried peach and mango slices float on a wood shelf (a dusty old chipboard turns into newly-oiled birch) and untoasted rye bread. The more one breathes in, the clearer wood oil becomes, to a point it eclipses the lovely tropical fruits. Well, not entirely: candied papaya cubes and mango slices remain; it is mostly fresh fruits that fade out, as if stashed away in a lacquered-wood box. The second nose feels a little darker, reminiscent of a well-aged brandy, or a liqueur, integrated so strongly that it is virtually impossible to tell the base product. And then, we return to pineapple and, this time, citrus: grapefruit skins, as well as blush-orange peels. Some may find a nearly-chalky, crumbly laundry-detergent tablet quality to this. Not tOMoH. tOMoH prefers to call that Korean pear, or kaki, crunchy, crumbly, fragrant, without the soapy connotation that laundry detergent carries. Mouth: it has not lost anything on the palate, in any case! Beside a minute touch of wood at first, this is a fruit market. Pineapple, grapefruit, mango, papaya, dragon fruit, persimmon, cherimoya, carambola, guava, longan, kumquat, chikoo burst with flavour, augmented with a dash of liqueur de cassis, and a drop of hazelnut oil. Some of those fruits are wrapped in pages torn out of dated glossy magazines, yet nothing can stop the fruity debauchery. The second sip is probably even more ridiculous in its fruitiness (chikoo and longan come out on top, now, just exceeding mango), yet it also feels stronger in alcohol, and more custard-y in texture, chewy, actually. As if all those fruits were smashed into a pulp, and dunked into coconut milk, then doused with a lovely rum. Finish: here too, we witness a fruity explosion. Witness? Nay! we live it. (Dried) mango, papaya, pomelo, kaki, ugli fruit, chikoo, mirabelle plum, all pressed and blended with milk or yoghurt to make one killer of a smoothie. It is as if the vague woody tones of the nose and palate have turned earthy, at this stage, a dollop of modelling clay, or a ploughed Hesbaye field in the distance. Repeated quaffing just underlines the fruity aspect, and adds a couple of drops of wood varnish for support (or is it dark rum and molasses?) Smashed pineapple and pomelo (or pink grapefruit) make a lasting impression. Incredible how it fares, even after the stellar Glen Grant. Grain whisky does not get better than this. Any whisky would find it hard to be better, in fact! 10/10

23/03/2024 Dune Part Two

Part One was so much fun that we decided to have a Part Two with mostly different actors. If Villeneuve did it, why could we not?

CB, OB, cavalier66, and JS join me for this sequel. GL calls off last minute for a work-related emergency.

The soundtrack: Sabled Sun - 2146

cavalier66 opens the game with a Japanese whisky, because Japan is an empire, just like the universe of Dune (known as the Imperium).

Rare Old Super (43%, Nikka Whisky) (cavalier66): nose: grainy and dirty (cavalier66), sweet and grainy (CB), a bit dusty, cardboard-y, it has crunchy pears slowly eaten by lichen. Mouth: stringent (cavalier66), apple and pear (cavalier66), dusty-sweet indeed, with dust and caramel on Golden Syrup. Finish: not too much happening. It is grainy, with an increasing amount of pressed grapes. This is inoffensive. 5/10

OB unveils a blended malt for the spice mélange (again!). He adds that 1969 is when Dune Messiah was published, because this is a 1969 underproof blend that was beefed up with Dornoch distillery's octave C#0 from 2017, and some eleven-year-old undisclosed Islay.

Super Groovy Blended Spirit Drink 6yo 1969 and 2017/2023 (40.1%, Thompson Brothers) (OB): nose: cavalier66 reckons it smells a bit like a blend (many years of university made him clever, our cavalier66), while CB says it is close to a Calvados. It has a funky side, in any case, a bit of sludge, pressed prunes, and damp dead leaves. Perhaps even a hint of hemp. CB finds artificial strawberry coulis to boot. That turns harder, and points at plasticine, waxy prunes and blueberries. Mouth: a certain earthiness emerges, prunes, dried dates, and a drop of juice. It has a tropical streak too, unidentifiable, and mushroom water caramelising in a frying pan. Finish: it is rather Cognac-y in the finish, with indistinct dark fruit. It feels chewy and earthy, with a mix of dark grapes and blueberries. 7/10

Cheese and breads, courtesy of the man who
never has breakfast before a tasting

cavalier66: "It is a funky nose."
tOMoH: "A groovy nose."
cavalier66: "It does not taste integrated."

The soundtrack: Dune: Dune · Der Wüstenplanet (Original Soundtrack Recording)

cavalier66: "That was not unpleasant."
tOMoH: "Remind me: which country were you born in?"

JS presents a Tillibardune bottled by Dewar Rattraydes, a double-barrelled connection to the theme, which is odd, for a single cask.

Tullibardine 33yo 1972/2006 (43.1%, Dewar Rattray Cask Collection, C#2597, 141b) (JS): nose: oh! ah! (cavalier66), honeyed and floral (CB). "I always think of bread, when I have a Tullibardine, and this has some of that bread" (cavalier66). It has a fattiness to it (CB), egg whites, old oak from the 1970s (CB), candied apricots, and a lick of peppery passion fruit. Mouth: some oak wood (cavalier66), but it is mostly a tropical number, here, with loads of candied apricots and preserved maracuja. Finish: long, acidic and fruity, juicy, jammy. Meow. I adore this whisky. Full notes are here. 9/10

cavalier66 observes that Dune is the ultimate film about a galactical empire. He therefore brought an Imperial in The Ultimate collection.

Imperial 20yo 1995/2015 (46%, Signatory Vintage selected by The Ultimate, Hogshead, C#50234, 281b, b#44, L15/1482) (cavalier66): nose: fruit, citrus, photocopier, petrichor (cavalier66), fresh summer rain (cavalier66), the plastic case of a newly-bound photocopied book (takes me back to my student days). Sour citrus (CB), pot-pourri pouches (CB). For me, it is closer to the dried residue os a citrus tonic in the glass. Mouth: slightly rough edges (cavalier66), dirty (OB), bergamot tea via retro-nasal olfaction (cavalier66), acidic, with crates full of crisp (Golden) apple, and dry green grapes. We have more and more hay and lemon thyme with time. Finish: a bit more robust, here, with linen (cavalier66) and mulch, alongside bergamot and kumquat. In the long run, it acquires a dry bitterness like the palate, but goes one step further by bringing forth Alka Seltzer. Excellent Imperial. 8/10

OB: "To think you wanted to swap it for another bottle..."
cavalier66: "I'm not disappointed."
tOMoH: "Mate! You're sooooo British!"

The soundtrack: Cthulhu - The space navigator

CB confesses he had to think hard to fit something into the theme (that he owns). In the end, he went for something he wanted to bring, and then the link dawned on him: this is a Chani-nich.

Teaninich 33yo 1983/2017 (46%, Berry Bros. & Rudd, C#6739) (CB): nose: "there is quite a bit of spice going" (CB). cavalier66 is quick to point another connection to the theme, here. Spice indeed: ground mace (ensues a fascinating discussion about nutmeg and mace), lemon mint intertwined with hay, dried spearmint, aniseed (CB), or (I think) lovage seeds, pomelo foliage, and a sprinkle of ashes. Mouth: acidic, lemon-y, this has loads of lemon thyme and lemon mint, Swiss lemon sweets full of mountain herbs (cavalier66, talking about Ricola). This is excellent. On the late tip, we discover kumquat to supply some candied sweetness. Finish: in the same vein, we have lemon mint, citrus foliage and hay. It is fruitier with each sip, much to my delight. 9/10

Also: hailstorm

Both cavalier66 and tOMoH brought an Arrankis. cavalier66 adds that David Lynch directed the first film adaptation of Dune; he also directed Blue Velvet, starring Italian actress Isabella Rossellini; also Italian is Arran's global Brand Ambassador, our good friend MR. LOLz. Love a stretched connection.

Arran (49.1%, That Boutique-y Whisky Company, B#1, 211b, b#66) (cavalier66): nose: washing powder, baking stuff (CB), freshly-baked croissants (CB), detergent. Then, later on, cinnamon bark, dried fruits, panettone, black bun (JS). The ABV feels noticeably higher. Mouth: hot fruit (boiled citrus zest), a mild bitterness, orange-flower water (CB). It turns chalkier at second sip, then reverts back to fruits, this time it is apricots. Finish: some bitterness again, very orange-y, pithy, with citrus skins, and grated Aspirin tablets -- in a good way. Yes, even when it eventually settles for juicy, it is pressed orange with a bit of Aspirin. 8/10

vs.

Arran 17yo 1997/2014 (51.6%, The Whisky Agency & Acla da Fans Selection specially selected for Whisky-Schiff Zürich 2014, Refill Sherry Cask, 120b) (tOMoH): nose: shaving balm, a faint hand-soap smell that grows in prominence, clean towels. Mouth: a clear note of detergent in hot water. Finish: big, almost boisterous, it has stewed apricots and hot compote. Full notes here. 8/10

Time to check TikTok

I find them to be both on a similar level, in terms of quality, but they have extremely-different profiles.

CB: "The Boutique-y is hotter."
cavalier66: "It's the spice."
tOMoH: "Would you say the mélange was not well integrated?"

CB takes us to the dark side, to explore the machinations of the Bunna Gesserit. In the same move, three of us discover how to pronounce the name of the bottler (weems, not weh-miss; it is written on the back label).

Bunnahabhain 1987/2018 Chestnut & Apple Chutney (46%, Wemyss Vintage Malts Wemyss Malts, Butt, 628b) (CB): nose: leather, shoe polish, date syrup, some turpentine, and prunes take off. Mouth: a nice balance, this is obviously a very-sherried whisky, but at 46%, it does not overwhelm the taste buds at all. Shoe polish, diluted with prune juice. Finish: treacle, date syrup, burnt sugar, molasses, cranberry molasses. Later on, we see a river of melted chocolate too. This is excellent, and better with each sip. 8/10

This calls for tart!
(OB's apple tart)

OB: "The Thompson are now enforcing the three-month free-storage thing, which is annoying."
JS: "Well, not for everyone: BA had things there for years."
cavalier66 [hinting at the royal family's recent health scares]: "But BA is royalty. Let's hope he doesn't have cancer, like the rest of them."

tOMoH: "I still see that picture in my head, every time I see the king -- a picture of Prince and Prince Charles, with the caption: 'There may be two princes, but there is only one king. And his name is Prince.' And, indeed, Charles waited for Prince to die before becoming king."
JS: "Every time you tell that, I think of Spin Doctors."

The soundtrack: Zenith - The Flowers Of Intelligence

With help from JS, tOMoH presents an oft-tasted bottle: Silent Stilgar-nheath.

Garnheath 27yo 1972/2000 (59.4%, Signatory Vintage Silent Stills, C#386516, 190b, b#182, 00/81) (tOMoH): full notes here. Today, I sip it relaxed, and enjoy it immensely. 9/10

JS asks if anyone ever played the Dune video games. Yes all round. The second? OB acquiesces. What was noteworthy in that one? There were three houses, OB remembers correctly. He cannot remember the name of the third, though. It was House (Glen) Ordos.

Glen Ord 25yo 1978/2004 (58.3%, OB, 3600b) (JS): I will take proper notes another time. We had this with OB nine years ago, and not once since. Time flies. Nose: austere, rocky, it reminds me of a grain millstone, lichen on limestone, tatters of green grapes and oroblanco, before a veil of refined smoke emerges from the deep, as clear as the sea is wet. Speaking of the sea, this may have iodine and a vague saltiness too. The second nose has a refreshing minty touch too. Mouth: rocky, gravel-y, drying, it is a whole quarry, in there. That aside, it has crushed walnuts. The mood changes with the second sip, which is dominated by acidic citrus, though there is a slight herbaceous touch too. Finish: long, acidic, mineral. Provisional 8/10

House Ordos deposing the Emperor

The soundtrack: Sabled Sun - 2148

As the final dram, OB fulfills the prophecy, and shows us the Kwizats Hadronach.

The GlenDronach 20yo 1993/2013 (53%, OB Single Cask, Oloroso Sherry Butt, C#5, 645b, b#418) (OB): nose: a thick layer of chocolate spread, mixed with Marmite, on a pepper-and-onion beigel. It has a hint of cardboard too, and then it develops a more-floral facet, behind the chocolate -- magnolia? The Marmite all but disappears, amusingly enough. Earth joins the dance, dark, rich, and even burnt, in places, a bit like scorched earth after the rain. The second nose has pickled lychee and blotting paper, roasted cocoa beans and star anise. Eh? Mouth: surprisingly thinner than anticipated, its earthiness is more pronounced than on the nose: torrefied coffee and chicory-infusion granules, as well as mocha-flavoured chocolate. It is slightly drying in the long run, like a high-percentage chocolate can be, or cocoa powder. Time makes this more peppery. Oh! it is no Talisker, obviously, but the chocolaty profile is augmented with cracked pink peppercorns. Finish: fairly short, it has more chocolate, and some herbs (chiefly oregano). OB thinks it does not have much chocolate and calls it a Glendronach for those who do not like Glendronach. I enjoy it. 8/10

OB: "It's the Johnnie Walker of Glendronach."
JS: "The Billy Walker of Glendronach."

Super tasting, once more. Surprisingly, it is the second time we use this theme, and no-one brought anything from Speyburn, Pulteney, Knockdhu, or Balmenach, all particular for their worm tubs. We may re-use the theme again when the next film comes out!

22/03/2024 Highland Park

Highland Park 12yo Viking Honour (40%, OB, L0484C L04 12/01, b. ca.2020): nose: there is something honest about these flagship bottlings. No pretence, no bullshit. It smells exactly as the distillery does, and that is sometimes all that one requires. So, in no particular order, we have tincture of iodine, cut peat still moist from the bog it left mere hours ago, a gentle smoke, and manure in the nearby field. If looking intently for it, one will spot a whisper of violet boiled sweets, but haters need not worry: it is hardly noticeable. What is a bit more surprising is the note of young grain spirit taken directly from the spirit safe. That is not meant in a derogatory way (it is pleasant); it is simply not something I associate with Highland Park. The second nose is more medicinal, with offerings of surgical alcohol poured on a dry corkboard. It also has dried yeast, and orchard-fruit slices desiccated beyond recognition. Gently-toasted barley rounds off the nose with a sugar glazing. Mouth: fresh and lively, though not overly so, it has a nice balance of smoke and violet boiled sweets, with a dash of tincture of iodine. I dare not call it unctuous, but it does have a velvety lick, beside the woodier tone of pencil cases. The second sip confirms. If it does the trick, chances are that the seasoned taster will find this a little pedestrian -- boring, even. Smoked dried apple slices come to the rescue, late in the game, and add a bit of adventure. Finish: more of the same? To a point, yes: gentle smoke, violet boiled sweets, but also a note of plasticine, now, and a clear farm-y side, with rich clay and midden. There is light-blue ink somewhere in this too. It warms up the mouth and oesophagus long after the flavours have dissipated. The second gulp mixes set honey with the plasticine, Honey Pops  mistakenly splashed with clay instead of milk. No reason to deviate from the score we gave it last time we had the equivalent. 7/10 (Thanks for the dram, SL)