Batch 80

Big, buttery, even butterscotchy (is that a word? – Ed) Bruichladdich with daffodils, lemon crème brûlée, with Demerara sugar topping, Silver Shred Marmalade, nougat and a little dry wood on the back, which will balance out these fatter flavours. Despite the strength, water kills this ripe feel so I’d leave alone.

Has the distillery’s texture and ripeness, with plump fruits coming through, along with some spiced apple and, strangely, some clove, alongside the dusting of nutmeg. As on the nose, water isn’t overly friendly, adding a chewed grass stalk/green almond edge.

Gentle fruits. 

Good strength for this age and a bold example.

With a cry of ecstasy, Gwyneth fell off the wagon and onto the dessert trolley. 

Amazing strength for its age and, perhaps unsurprisingly, there’s some heat here, but it’s tempered by deck and linseed oils with light hints of wormwood, horseradish and elegant smoke. A biggie. A little water makes things a lot fruitier – Tooty Frooties in fact – some strawberry, lime and dry grass. Delicious either way.

Luxuriously soft start with old Caol Ila's tongue-coating quality. Some sweet potato to start and then the heat hits in the centre, but recedes slightly as the smoke moves into pole position, scented with rosemary and a meaty edge underneath. Water reduces the impact but it remains slippery, yet still spicy and complex.

Long and peppery.

Everything you want from a mature Caol Ila: elegance, balance, character, freshness, integrated smoke and depth. Just great.

Oiling a cricket bat on a yacht.

Immediately grand, with mature elements on show: dried guava and mango, showing a move into rancio along with a (full) cedar wood cigarette case and a nutty, almond-like surround, suggesting some structure. Elegant; all plumped-up satin and velvet cushions.

It hides its age well on the nose, but when you taste it you can tell that it is slightly frailer than it lets on. The fruit – and now more honey – remains, however. This elegant lady may be old, but she is not admitting it. While more structured, it’s all rather gorgeous. Leave water well away.

Gentle, fading and lightly fruited. 

A gorgeous, old, but still balanced example. 

Sophia Loren in old age.

A massive, but gentle start; the sort of nose which draws you in to its depths. Wild, dark berries and integrated smoke, chocolate, concentrated miso, roasting chestnut and then heavily pine-scented Lapsang Souchong. Becomes increasingly resinous and deep. With a drop of water it becomes more medicinal with some sandalwood and roasting coffee beans.

As you might expect from such a nose, this is huge, mouth-filling and concentrated, but with immediate sweetness rather than smoke. There’s the merest smear of Germolene in there, then a thick stout character as a burnt, roasted edge comes through alongside heavy pipe smoke. The water adds some crackling flames alongside more maritime edges – After Eights being passed around a beach bonfire.

Dry, long, powerful. A bitter note balances the sweetness of the start.

A box of many treasures. Quite a way to finish the birthday party.

Sitting next to a fire pit in a Chinese tea house.

Marsala is a big, quite nutty and often slightly singed fortified wine. Here, it’s paired with Ledaig’s classic smokiness, which always brings burning pyres at a racetrack to mind. There’s some figginess, hot oil and then out of nowhere the guilty pleasure of the smell of a spicy kebab with lashings of chilli sauce. 

Dry smoke. In fact, this is dry all the way, and oily and tarry as well. It does need water to kill the heat, which brings out a more feral quality, but it then drifts ever deeper into feintiness.

Smoky.

Maybe this is for petrol heads (of which I am not one).

Jeremy Clarkson, stonewashed jeans stained by kebab sauce, picks a fight at a speedway meet.

Big, oaky and malty. There’s bran flakes, raisin, wet earth then some hazelnut and sweet walnut. As it opens, so a more robust, autumnal character comes through, alongside light farmyard notes, welly boots and mashed neeps. Gets bigger, funkier, more like amontillado Sherry – and simply better – when water is added.

Oilier than the nose. Hot campfire skillet, dense toffee sweetness that moves into a not unpleasant, treacle-like bitterness. Nutty. Again, a vast improvement with water where there’s sweet dried fruits and a better balance.

Slightly astringent with a creep of oils.

Add water and a different beast emerges.

An outdoor Burns supper.