16/02/2026 Ben Nevis

Ben Nevis 19yo d.1996 (51.8%, OB Single Cask, C#1424): nose: this is a mildly-austere nose, with flint, grated limestone and the toolbox of a flintknapper (chisel and hammer, file, that sort of things). It has fruits too, but, at this point, they are limited to crunchy pears, quite unripe. A couple of minutes later, it peddles white fruits of tropical provenance: dragon fruit, snakehead fruit, chiku, perhaps mangosteen. None of that is loud, mind. Then, we go back to pears and quinces. The second nose has us stepping into a walk-in wardrobe on a warm summer evening, and that gives us aromas of linen, white wood, chipboards and pot-pourri pouches. Vanilla custard follows, as does something more vegetal that is hard to pinpoint. Leek greens? Papyrus leaves? In any case, freshly-ironed linen quickly comes back, with lukewarm burlap in tow. Mouth: well, from the first sip, it is gorgeously fruity. Again, it is pears, rather than anything more extravagant (for a European), but these perfectly-ripe Conference pears are a delight, sweet, and melting on the tongue. Chewing brings a strong bitter note that turns more acidic, then sweet, and it is clearly Alphonso mangoes that we find at the other end, hand in hand with glorious persimmons. Phwoar! How unexpected! It still has a mineral vibe to it, as if those fruits had been cut on a slate and served with grated limestone, but the tropical fruits really dominate the conversation, now. It does feel a tad chalky in texture, with crushed medicine tablets (I dread to use the word 'Aspirin') and grout, yet that just adds to the whole, rather than subtract or distract. The second sip seems even more boldly fruity, an avalanche of mango and persimmon generously coated in caster sugar -- although that sugar clears upon chewing to give way to lukewarm full-fat milk. Later on, it acquires oily wood from a nut-producing tree -- hazel or beech. Unless it is polished hazelnut shells? Finish: big without being punchy, it has more fruits, albeit chalkier and less tropical than on the palate. Korean pears and crunchy apples, with unripe blueberries adding a gentle bitterness too. The second gulp is an explosion of fruits that dissipate to reveal a small tub of butter. When that dies out too, all we have left is a gentle tingle on the gums, the soft spicy lick of ground cardamom. Wow. This has improved enormously in the open bottle, I think. I was a little less convinced the first time; now I am a believer. 9/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)