Batch 88

Oily and resinous with a light menthol element that brings to mind blackcurrant Tunes. Some dark chocolate and ginger wine follows, and as things begin to cohere you pick up some fatty/meaty elements, along with boiled chestnuts. Rich oak tones: planed wood, cacao. More complex with water as the black cherry and smoke develops, alongside wet moss, soot and smoked bresaola.

Simultaneous hit of smoke, oils and heat. There’s quite firm structure and the Ardbeggian grunt is cut by a slight edginess. Again, water improves things, adding more weight to the mid-palate. Spicier but smoky.

Sweetens out with roasted vanilla pod. 

Has a gallus kind of swagger to it.

Munching on a Lorne sausage roll while sailing over the Corryvreckan, oblivious to what lies beneath.

Mature and savoury with massive, heady linseed oil notes. Immediate balance and complexity. The wood notes are rich – a high-end cabinet maker’s workshop – but there are sufficient sweet elements to counterbalance: black grape, an almost waxy element.

Intense and exotic. That oil again, but with water you get rose petal, tropical fruits, scented wood, dried blood orange. Becomes increasingly like a single pot still Irish whiskey.

Long and elegant.

An extraordinary grain. There are only 78 bottles. Grab one.

A French polisher’s idea of heaven. 

Gentle, mature and not over-oaked. Headily perfumed, with touches of cooked apple, talcum powder, wild green strawberry, orgeat, mirabelle and green peach. There’s more dry structure evident with water.

Soft and immediately lifted. It has a decent creaminess in the centre, though the buzz of alcohol is a little edgy. There is compensatory grassiness and some floral elements. Water loses the texture and that gentle aspect.

A little sharp when neat.

Elegant and gentle nose. The palate is a slight let-down, but I’m being picky.

Light custard on apple crumble.

Soft, almost oily, mature mix of old column still rum, some char alongside white chocolate, ripe banana/banana chews and red fruit. Greener with water.

Sweet start with those enthusiastic rummy elements, and a firm back-palate. Light chocolate (darker now) alongside raspberry. Soft, sweet and mature, but there’s power here. Water reduces the complexity a little.

Slightly sharp.

Front-loaded and rummy. Delightful.

Count Arthur Strong arrives on the doorstep with a speckly banana.

Rich and, like the Wemyss, slightly oily. There’s real maturity here with flax seed, chocolate on top of a cappuccino, then some peanut. Balanced oak. It’s from a Bourbon hoggie, but there’s an oxidised note like a fino en rama. Some orange. Complex and balanced.

Massive toasted marshmallow. This is quite Canadian in its mellow, soft power. A velvety texture. Here the heat adds a balancing zestiness. Complex, mature and layered. 

Some anise, then light spice.

Mature and with a real elegance that cuts through the sweetness. 

Morning coffee in a top-end brasserie.

Big and rooty. Moor burn, then tarry notes, some rubber, cracked pepper, spent peat fire. Like the Ardbeg, there’s a light meatiness. Water brings out Laphroaig’s green notes: fern, angelica and watercress. The smoke is retained.

Dry, with immediate earthy smoke meaning this needs to sweeten quickly. While silky enough, it continues to dry – that peat ash again. Water comes to its aid, bringing out the herbal element, some water mint and a more cereal, crisp edge.

Dry, smoky.

A firm Laphroaig, but a good one.

Old wellies thick with mud.