07/07/2023 StilL 630

StilL 630 24mo 2015/2017 X-8 Chocolate RP (50%, OB Experimental, C#15-38, b#47): nose: it leaps out of the glass with overwhelming notes of fruity Cognac and exotic woods. Grapes, mirabelle plums, orange wine, polished mahogany, and redheart. There is some soft rubber too, in a 1980s-cheap-trainers style. Oh! and Irn Bru. This could easily be mistaken for a rye, and, should one associate a colour with, it would be neon orange. Further back are roasted nuts, oily, interspersed with chopped orange segments. Oranges do take off, yet they do not feel too natural; more the crystallised sort, almost sickly sweet. We also have freshly-made oilskins or rubber boots, still reeking of melted rubber. With quite some imagination, one may detect a whisper of smoke, very far from all the above, and probably closer to caramelised marmalade than actual smoke. The second nose has lukewarm cocoa, as welcome as it is unexpected, and a wooden spoonful of cheap marmalade indeed. Mouth: bitter and a half, comparable to cold coffee (for which you do not have to wait a moment, if you want it -- for those who know). Chewing on it increases that perception, though it adds wood: cold coffee spilled over a wooden dining table. Orange peels join in, chewy as if fresh, bitter as if dried. Also mocha-flavoured gelatine, and a drop of Cointreau. The second sip is in line, with old wood perhaps featuring more prominently, although citrus peels are not far behind. Over time, the bitter side stabilises, in terms of intensity, and point at metallic-tasting herbs, verbena, or sage. Finish: the best part of this dram, in my opinion, with gelatine sheets, melted milk chocolate, and mocha custard, as well as some mixed peel that comes across as far less vulgar than the citrus of the nose and palate. The finish glows a comfy warmth, and is now more acidic than bitter, which is good news for tOMoH. The citrus is much riper is what it surely means. The second sip adds a dash of pineapple-weed infusion. I could not drink huge amounts of this, to be sure, but it certainly is interesting! 7/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

06/07/2023 Benromach

Benromach d.1969 (40%, Gordon & MacPhail Connoisseurs Choice, b. ca. 1989): the miniature does not indicate the bottling year, but Gordon & MacPhail did a big bottle with the same livery in 1989, so it is rather safe to assume this is the same. Nose: well, well! Burnt wood, embers in the rain, calcinated twigs, campfire, the morning after. That is soon joined by mellow menthol and growing peppermint, and balanced by walnut oil and polished dashboards. The back of the sinuses pick up something more organic that may be a mix of sink funk, vase water, and silt; it reads horrible, but it is subtle enough to not be a bother. In no time, that fades away, and makes room for some kind of strawberry paste, enhanced with a drop of furniture polish. The second nose sees hay, or straw bales, dry, dusty, and heart warming, used farming tools, not particularly old, stored in the barn, after a sunny day's work. There are also piles of twigs and branches (not logs), drying in preparation for the winter. Further nosing brings varnished wood, and I detect the faintest note of white-fleshed tropical fruit (dragon fruit, mangosteen, cherimoya), in the long run. Mouth: mildly astringent in the attack, the palate delivers a similar cocktail of woods polished and burnt, strawberries, and peppermint. Perhaps it has grated ginger too. The (dried) strawberries are magnified, here, yet they do not come alone: bitter hazel wood supports it adequately, the bitterness never becoming a negative talking point. The second sip is just as impressive, and fruitier, with apricots, macerating in juice in an open-top wooden cask of a certain age. Woodworm-eaten old furniture appears, as does slightly-caramelised jam, stuck to the bottom of the metal pot. Finish: robust, woody, filled with dried berries and wood spices (ginger powder, wasabi, asafoetida). The wood and its spices impart a clear bitterness (think: chipboards) that does not detract from the enjoyment. It is a lasting finish that sparkles on the tongue long after swallowing. The second sip has liqueur-boosted toffee, mocha-and-berries custard, sprinkled with coal dust, sooty wooden buckets, apricot jam turned black on the hob, and charred fruit stones that become progressively fruitier and fruitier. This starts good, if perhaps unassuming, but ends up big and rustic. Duhlishes! 8/10

05/07/2023 Linkwood

Linkwood 11yo 1984 (60.5%, James Mac Arthur Fine Malt Selection): nose: hot metal, marmalade-jars tin lids, cast-iron stoves, made dusty and sooty by years of usage. It is perhaps a little closed, apart from that. We may find stale chicory granules in an old jar, and faded oilskins in the background. A little later, we have apples, poached, then caramelised, and rusty metal, as well as a minuscule drop of nail varnish. It might seem shy-ish a nose, yet it is probably the high ABV masking the aromas that are purring underneath. The second nose has hot clementine and hot metal intertwined. With water, it is quite the change! Forsythia-scented air freshener, sprayed in a black-marble-tiled, dark-wood-panelled room in a country estate. In other words: flowery and waxy -- both floor wax and wood polish. That gives the nose an elegance and a distinguished bitterness, as well as something a little more light hearted. Further nosing adds a thin veil of white smoke. Mouth: sharp, bitter, and musky, here are dried plant sap on a rusty sickle, hot chicory infusion, poached endives (in fact, poached, then braised). After thirty seconds, it is an old, cast-iron stove that emits a comfortable warmth, and heated marmalade-jars tin lids. The second sip seems sweeter, more approachable. We have citrus rinds, both dried and candied, an old-school colander, still hot from the pasta it was just used to drain, and the enamel of which is chipped. This feeling of heat never really disappears, more numbing than comforting, like gin on a flesh wound. Water turns this into a gentle Speysider as one usually understands them: mellow, flowery, a little sweet, and elegant all round. Finish: it is bold, of course, yet also fruitier than before: now, we have some marmalade, not just the lid of its jar. It only lasts for a moment, mind; soon, all that remains is anaesthetics, as the whole roof of the mouth tries to shake off the numbness. It feels as though hit by a dusty stove. Oh! there is plenty of dust, although the soot and rust are now hidden. The second sip brings back some bitterness, well within the boundaries of what is tolerable, but still: a drop of flower-stem sap, hot metal, warmed mixed peel, and cake batter, lightly burnt in the tin mould. With water, it is a drop of plant sap in a glass of plum juice, which is to say it is sweet and bitter in a balanced way. It does remain warming, yet nothing like the fierce heat from before, and little of the metal survives. Only that gentle bitterness that ends up pointing towards honeysuckle. Lovely, if not as fruity as the first time we had this. Happy birthday, JB!. 8/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

04/07/2023 Independence Day

StilL 630 15mo 2015/2017 X-7 Mesquite Smoke (50%, OB Experimental, C#15-66, b#177): nose: we have a mix of strongly-subdued torrefied coffee, hard rubber, and industrial glue -- all discreet, integrated, pleasant. Old chewy sweets rise to prominence: years-old Gummibärchen, kept in an unsealed bag, and rightly stale as a result, radial tyres that have crushed berries, stale cuberdons, faded green gum drops, and old candied angelica. It really is not sharp enough to be fully rubbery, nor is it openly fruity; it is instead that unlikely mix that is closest to stale chewy sweets. Deeper nosing unveils some plasticine too, which matches the chewy sweets, I suppose. The second nose feels thicker and richer, almost earthy, or gravy-like. It stops short of savoury, yet one may detect a wine influence, here, or liqueur, perhaps. Warm brown bread out of the oven (ooooooh!) completes the picture. Mouth: there is a clearer-if-fleeting bitterness at play, in a coffee-custard way. It lasts for about half a second, then makes room for Caramella Mokatine. Yes, the texture goes from custard to that of boiled sweets, to flan, in the long run. As for the "fleeting" bitterness, it only fleetingly disappears, and soon comes back, full of mild coffee flavours and metallic spoons (silver?). The second sip adds rising sourdough, a drop of caramelised corn syrup, and a hot moka pot. It is more straightforward in the finish, overtly focussed on mocha and toffee -- picture a crossing of Mokatine and Quality Street's Toffee Penny. Both are soft enough to be inoffensive, and the result is all the better for anyone not enamoured with coffee. A gentle bitterness lingers, be it metal, or dried herbs, and complements the undeniable sweetness one could also detect in a Mokatine. Simply do not think it tastes sugary, because it does not. The second sip has Bourbon Cream biscuits, and more mocha-infused toffee. It is a long and comforting finish, all in all. Although dialled down, the afore-mentioned bitterness draws one back for more! 7/10 (Thanks for the dram, JS)

03/07/2023 Laphroaig

Laphroaig 10yo (55.7%, OB Original Cask Strength imported by Allied Domecq Zürich): nose: perhaps less meaty than I remembered it, the nose is clearly smoky and medicinal instead. We have the famous TCP, tincture of iodine, and linen bedsheets in a hospital. More prominent still are gauze and bandages. Underneath those, one can find a lacquered drinks cabinet, warm watercolour, and crusty bread (Schwarzbrot, to be precise). The nose shifts after ten minutes or so, and settles on sea air and mossy, sea-spray-infused earth. A rash of lichen flares up, and a drop of melted candle wax rounds it off. The second nose is more grilled, if that makes sense. Grilled puffy waffles, grilled aubergines. The waxy note comes back with a vengeance, so bold as to be minty -- it is likely lint, though. Mouth: the rather brash attack provides the same candle wax, now augmented with spent wick and torched bandages, ether, sprayed on gauze, waxy, plasticine-y clay, and Iso Betadine. The texture is chewy, and the whole is warming. The second sip has lukewarm ink blended with the Iso Betadine, which provides a mild bitterness. It is subtle, mind, and torched bandages soon reappear. There is a gentle freshness too -- lint, tar, mint. Finish: a time bomb. It goes down unnoticed, waits for five seconds, then radiates warmth for an eternity. It is in line with the above; gauze, bandages, iodine, earth. This time, we also have stagnant water, however, brackish. The second sip adds tar to that equation, never overpowering, and actually pleasantly refreshing. A dark, slightly bitter freshness lingers in the aftertaste, that emphasises said tar. I like it better than the first time, despite the seemingly-reduced fruitiness. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, OB)