Batch 55

A sultry and sound kind of grain with an aroma reminiscent of tinned fruit salad. It then opens rather beautifully into cream with lime jelly and/or Sugar Puffs with milk. Water shifts things towards Canada. All very soft and gentle.

A very sweet and rounded palate; thick and quite chewy, and rounded with some butterscotch to help things along. The alcohol provides a certain frisson before spicy oak kicks in. Water allows the flavours to be more extended and spiced. 

Slightly peppery with powdered bay leaf.

All in all, rather delightful.

Eating fruit salad for breakfast in a Scottish B&B. 

Weetabix doused in warm oat milk and then fresh Amalfi lemon, before a herbal (thyme-like) back note comes through. It continues to shift between the malty and the citric/herbal aromas as it develops. Water brings out proving dough and dries slightly.

Clean, nutty and a little short. Quite intense acidity with a return of the lemon zest. With water you get greengage jam and it dries and becomes slightly brittle. I’d keep it neat.

Fresh and sharp. 

An aperitif dram that behaves like a Scotch Martini, in fact, which is appropriate enough for a former Gilbey’s distillery.

Shaken, but not stirred, in Rothes. 

Slightly aloof on initial nosing and remains closed. I kept adding water and finally pulled out some fragile fruits.

Very fine-boned and, thankfully, more expressive than the nose. Shows pretty classic Imperial qualities of gentle and subtle fruits, overripe pear, quince tart, strawberry and yellow cherry tomato. Opens a little more with water showing some soft texture, but it is tentative in the extreme.

Lightly zesty with some tangerine.

Everything very restrained and slightly ethereal.

As delicate as a song by Tara Jane O’Neil.

A mix of sultana, nougat, Milky Way, then some more ferocious chocolate notes, before a rustle of autumn leaves and dry amontillado Sherry. Big in nature and very different to your standard grain. More like builder’s tea when neat, but coffee comes through when it is diluted. 

Very soft and no real tannins, as if the cask has given liquid, rather than structure. Water does lengthen things and brings out walnut, a touch of clove in the background, and a flavour similar to Madrono liqueur. 

Soft, with some sweet dried fruits.

A grain from a Sherry butt, which is fairly unusual. I’d keep this neat in order to retain the impact, but there’s balance, and indeed complexity, whatever way you go. Highly recommended.

Hansel and Gretel get stuck into the witch’s house. 

Another that sits in the malty camp. This time it’s Horlicks and powdered hot chocolate, with a creamy edge that drifts towards the slightly sour lactic element which you can get with Jura. As it develops, more wholemeal aromas come through, while water triggers a tussle between the malty/nutty side of things and pine wood. 

Dry deer grass element, with a tingle of acidity and dried orange peel. Slightly chewy, with good richness from the cask, which balances Jura’s hard core.

Clean and long. 

A decent Jura with some complexity. 

Hotel room. Pyjamas on. Time for a bedtime drink.

Fairly pale in colour with a Juicy Fruit aroma, backed with some blackcurrant leaf and unripe yellow fruit. It’s North British in a slightly leaner – and indeed greener – style than usual.

The palate goes slightly soapy, before oils more typical of the distillery begin to coat the tongue. The spirit is rich with some violet chocolate, some mint. Even with water there’s some palate burn. 

Light and crisp.

A bit messy, to be honest.

Loitering on a street corner trying to look tough. Your mum shouts that it’s time for your tea.