Batch 78

Rounded, plump and slightly buttery – butterscotch even – with caramel syrup and a background of dark chocolate cut with orange peel. Heavy rum, but with a garnish of nasturtium and wine gums.

All you’d expect from that nose, but there’s also a surprising twist of currant leaf and spice. Balanced and, while soft, there’s enough wayward spiciness to shift it away from being just bland, fat and sweet. It’s better neat for that very reason, as water makes it just a bit one-dimensional.

Gentle and syrup-like.

A really solid Cambus. Well worth seeking out.

Relaxing.

A fairly bold opening – it’s clear this comes from cereal, put it that way – with an almost savoury back note. Dry as well, with light coriander and even a tiny touch of varnish that suggests some cask-driven maturity.

More lively than the nose. The assertiveness of the nose remains, but now softened into white chocolate. That said, it still has a tight focus and higher acidity than the rest of the quartet, and it’s this last quality which gives it a degree of complexity. Water unlocks that mid-palate.

Zesty, with some bite.

A slightly funny one which, while very enjoyable, hasn’t quite decided what it wants to be.

Sucking on chocolate limes.

Very soft and vanilla-centred. Hot too, but there’s some limoncello and an edginess thanks to the higher strength and lighter character. Estery, lean and, with water, steamed syrup pudding.

Lime peel. Very bright and slightly floral, but with that thick mid-palate which makes grain so important to blends. Controlled and charming, citric and floral with pick ‘n’ mix elements. When diluted, becomes more airy and aromatically delicate.

Icing sugar, gooseberry and then vanilla again.

It’s good and has character, but you can’t help but feel that it would add more to a blend than being kept on its own. As a result, it’s slightly lonely. 

He sits on his own, melting ice cream dribbling over his knuckles, mingling with his falling tears.

There’s a tiny, dusty, slightly musty, old cinema note to start with, but it disappears behind typically savoury aromas, which in this manifestation are biltong-like, spiced up with a little fennel seed brightness and some cherry jam. With water, there’s a dramatic shift to curried lamb but, as it sits and opens, so ripe peaches emerge – albeit with that intriguing depth beneath. 

Big, robust and well-structured. When neat, it’s pretty much a front-palate dram, but with some anise and liquorice that pair well with those rounded, roasted notes. It does need water – in fact, it can cope with a fair dose. The sweet/savoury interplay, which is slightly uneasy on the nose, now achieves coherence with that explosion of spiced meats, then those soft fruits. Layered and forceful. 

Long, lingering.

Extravagant and swaggering, which is exactly what you want from Mortlach. 

Errol Flynn eating a curry.

The colour of an angry sunset; there’s ripe berries (cassis, tayberry) and a smoky edge, then hints of cherry stone. It’s huge and almost liqueur-like with touches of rosehip syrup and blood orange – in fact it’s like a cask-aged Blood & Sand.

Thick and slightly flabby initially. Let’s be polite and say it’s well-covered. The wine elements, all red and black fruits, are dominant and at first there’s little of Ord, bar a nudge of fresh ginger. Just after the marzipan edge bites in, the whisky finally comes through. Cordial-like. Could I drink a whole dram?

Even more vinous and jammy.

It’s been in that wine cask since 2009 and inevitably is wine-dominated. In fact, it should encompass everything that’s wrong with wine-finished whiskies, but it’s also compelling. A barking mad, headfuck of a whisky. 

Baroque and slightly camp. Luxuriate in some early Scott Walker. Turn it up.

Generous, with a light burnt edge that brings to mind home-made toffee – and caramelised bananas. Some red fruits (jam skimmings), then Americano coffee with hot milk, and fondant cream. After a while it becomes increasingly Bajan rum-like with soft fruits. Water brings out greener notes and fresh rum.

Big, rounded and creamy with some milk chocolate. All the aromas are reflected here, but are now evenly layered and cling to the tongue. Juicy and quite deep, with a fine structure.

Long and fruited.

Complex and showy or, as we’d say in Glasgow: ‘Gallus.’

Jeely pieces being flung out of tenements. Vambo Rules.