Batch 133

This has spent its final three years in rum cask, though this isn’t immediately apparent. In fact, it is slightly hard to get into, with a rigidity (possibly from the high level of alcohol) that sits over light orchard fruit, then come more ‘rummy’ elements of lime cordial and sugar syrup. As it develops, so a beautiful aroma akin to Muscat de Beaumes-de-Venise and barley sugar starts to develop, but there’s a metallic touch, as well as the feeling that the alcohol is holding it back. When water is added, it shifts into a molasses-rich mix of iron and blood, along with some singed cereal.

Sweeter than you would expect on the neat nose, with a malt extract element and a burnt edge which could be molasses creeping forward. Water makes it drier and nuttier, before it opens into some soft fruit.

Tobacco leaf. Drying.

All of the elements to make this a great whisky are there, but would that metallic element have gone or just built with more time in the cask? Impossible to say now.

A pirate’s treasure chest bound with iron bands.

Very creamy toffee, Toffos in fact, with a fatness. In an echo of the Auchie there’s a steely element here which seems to clamp down on things becoming too effusive – a Presbyterian dram. There’s some raspberry and then warm plastic – kid’s ball pit – then some well-fired white bread and butter and some white fruits. Water helps to fill things out and bring the elements closer together, but that steeliness never goes away fully.

A soft, floral start with iced gems and some sweetness, though the firmness grabs the tongue in the mid-palate, reducing the pear-like and cereal elements. Water does, however, fill things out.

Light acidity. Sweet, then dries quickly.

There’s not enough Auchroisk on the market and, while this never quite springs into life completely, it would make a simple and refreshing aperitif.

The minister’s on the prowl.

There’s rye all right, coming over as allspice, clove and pepper, and its impact has shifted ‘Morangie (initially at least) into the red fruit area, with some light chocolate sitting in the background. A full and developed nose with some coconut, then tangerine marmalade. As it develops, so the balance shifts towards the distillery character, but retaining the rye’s green apple and fennel leaf elements. Water lightens the impact somewhat, so ca’ canny (go easy).

The nose reversed. Gentle, syrupy and surprisingly softly fruited to start, with the structure gripping lightly, then adding in chocolate and roasted poblana chilli from the mid-palate on, as the spices start to pick up in intensity with that added apple/fennel element. When water is added, it’s this element which is pulled forward, making things layered rather than linear.

Dry-roasted five-spice. Red fruit. Peach. Drying.

Clever stuff – and fun too. Old Fashioned and Sazerac material.

A Scotsman watches Townes van Zandt and dreams of Texas.

Very pale colour, with low cask impact giving things a slightly distant air with only a light green bite and a tiny hint of cow gum in the very back. While delicate and frothy, it’s somewhat insubstantial, something that’s not helped by dilution.

Much, much better. A sweet and much more expressive start. There’s some lemon curd, banana, green apple – all of the distillery’s estery elements beginning to emerge. Ok, it’s still on the light and ethereal side of things, but it’s pleasantly textured with all of the elements flowing together. Water adds a gentle juiciness, some (very) light vanilla and a zesty end.

Fresh, but short.

Whispering certainly. Am not sure about the metal analogy.

A shy teenager at a grown up’s dinner party.

Sherry dominates the nose, with lots of fig jam and light pickling spices that move things towards the chutney realm. Sweet, dried fruits, but there’s just enough estery energy behind to cut through and give needed balance. Bold and earthy (rather than watery), with developing cooked fruits, clootie dumpling and dark chocolate. Water amplifies the Sherry.

Soft in terms of tannic grip, but this is still a big and bouncy boy, with a robust, fruit-laden mid-palate. There’s more prune now, though again the acidity helps to balance. As it opens on the back palate you pick up coffee, anise and black cherry. Water stops the palate development in its tracks so, although the nose is enhanced, I’d keep things neat.

Cooked dried fruit.

Cask-rich and with a certain sweet, boisterous energy.

A confident businessman mid-way through a long lunch.

Light in colour, suggesting a (multiple?) refill cask which, as we know, isn’t necessarily a bad thing for extra-long maturation. A bright opening, mixing sugar-topped porridge with cut flowers. It’s when you compare it to the others that you notice the subtle, mature depth as a clover honey element which begins to develop, along with light waxiness and then a herbal essence element like milk thistle extract or meadowsweet. Calm and gorgeous like a mature ballerina en pointe.

As soft as you’d expect, given the nose, but there’s some tone to the structure here, meaning that it doesn’t simply fly away. The tip of the tongue is where the flowers are, along with some thinned honey, while the mid-palate is where you detect the subtle structure, the waxy maturity. The back-palate perks up once more, allowing it to finish on a bright note. It does fade slightly in the glass compared to the nose, but that gentle concentration in the middle of the tongue persists. Then it seems to disappear behind a gauze veil.

Slips behind a veil and disappears.

40.1%? Wow, that’s lucky! Hard to believe this was made in ‘62. A lovely dram.

Tamara Rojo in her prime.