The yearly ill-named celebration is back. This year, we will have a Littlemill. Firstly, because we can. Secondly, in memoriam of Littlemillhead Bishlouk, whose blog was meant as a source of information for whisky aficionados of Wallonia. Strictly speaking, Wallonia and the French Community of Belgium is not the same thing, but they are close enough for today. Oh! and Bishlouk is alive and kicking. His blog, on the other hand, is moribund.
Littlemill 29yo d.1991 (48.1%, Cask Sample, Bourbon Barrel): no point pretending we are trying this blind, because I remember it from the first time. Nose: warm ginger-cat fur turns into baked apricots, then we have chocolate milk and a dusting of crushed Aspirin tablets. That latter becomes a mere grassy touch, oregano or rosemary, increasingly in the shadow of fruit squash, thick, syrupy, and fairly fragrant. Peach, orange, one berry or another. Deeper nosing displays the most-curious mix of leather shoes, newspapers, and cooked artichoke. It is but a few seconds before thick yellow fruits come back into focus, supported by a spoonful of lacquer of sorts and fragrant Turkish delights. Far in the back, this has hot cereals, though not quite porridge, and baked pine cones. In fact, pine cones grow in intensity, slathered with honey. The second nose is creamy, exuberant, full of smashed pineapple, sprinkled with lime juice and Aspirin gratings. Lime Schweppes, perhaps? Lacquer comes back, ready to apply on light-brown shoes or on a jewellery case. Mouth: unctuous at first, it soon proves a little spicy: ground cardamom, ground cloves, gravel filings, even, or quarry dust. Moving the tongue even by a millimetre awakens a basket of fruits: peaches, plums, nectarines, apricots, kumquats, papayas, jackfruits, ripe and juicy. Naturally, they are accompanied by a generous dose of crushed Aspirin (it is a Littlemill, after all), and there are also green jelly capsules. The second sip starts off plastic-y, yet not the kind that would result from a faulty container, I reckon; it is just a wee bit bitter. Right behind that is a symphony of fruits, with a drop of soda or tonic to lift it. Finish: lush and fruity at first, it proves hugely medicinal in seconds. Obviously, it is not a Laphroaig; we are talking pharmacy, here: capsules, tablets, magistral preparations, philtres and potions, powders of various kinds. It is bigly bitter, not far from dried cucumber peels on steroids, or dried pomelo peels. Fruits are now in the rear-view mirror, a shadow of what they once were. Still, one can identify them: apples, papaya, pomelo, kumquat, bergamot, jackfruit -- none quite ripe enough. The second gulp is in line, maybe more citrus-y, still on the lime-pomelo side of things. Shaddock pomelo or ugli fruit, at a push. Further sips dance around fruit jellies, chocolate-lined marshmallow (Cadbury Mallow Bites), fresh-mango slices dunked in chocolate milk, chocolate truffles, Nestlé Aero... Phwoar! The crushed Aspirin in the background adds a lovely complexity to this excellent dram. 9/10
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