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)
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