Batch 142: GlenAllachie Single Casks

Slightly sharp with some nose burn, then dry grass and, in time, the sweetness of flapjack and the start of a softer, richer, dark fruitiness accompanied by fresh-sawn wood. Water brings out a more juicy, citric edge, along with more overt cask elements; soft runny caramel, a touch of nutty cereal and fresh-ploughed field.

While there’s still some heat, there’s also a soft butterscotch/tablet element which adds flavour but, more significantly, texture, which rounds off the palate. Everything seems light and fresh aromatically speaking but with this smoothed solidity and, while things do dry a little in the centre, everything is resolved on the end where there’s this fruity/floral thing going on. It does need water, which gives all of these elements another boost – and better cohesion. Now there’s blue fruit fragrance, especially on the back palate and, in time, hints of char.

Vanilla, nuts, then a bright, almost effervescent spiciness.

From a hoggie, this is a fresh and easy-going introduction to a little-known distillery.

One distillery, so one artist. Gentle, but with heft. It has to be John Martyn. Or, in this case, John The Baptist…

Although this is from a butt, there is a grassy element which nods politely towards the 1991 (there’s a touch of cow gum as well). As well as having plumped-up dried fruits, there’s a freshness which comes across as a mix of Moscato grapes and lemon zest. Water brings out some bakery notes, a chalk dust element and more fruit.

A floury start and a mellow delivery, with slightly peachy fruits mixing with meadow hay and the sensation of chaff and pollen in the summer haze. There’s some orange peel in the mid-palate before it starts to deepen into hazelnut chocolate and sultana. I’d leave it neat as there’s no real heat, and it steadily develops a soft, chewy, fruity subtlety.

Red liquorice.

A mix of the dry, the bright and the rich. A mid-point. The lower strength adds a mellowness.

Chilled and relaxed. One World.

Freshly-made gingerbread with raisin, prune and chocolate that, like #2515, also throws out ripe fruits and spice, in this case blueberry juice and clove, then comes bread-and-butter pudding (with the bread element the key). Becomes more obviously oxidised with water, with some yeastiness, barley sugar sweets (forgotten in the pocket) and, this being GlenAllachie, an estery lift of fresh banana and pineapple.

A very soft, if concentrated, start with a balanced Sherry character and an almost smoky effect mid-palate, where there’s some light tannins and then, according to form, out come those blue and black fruits (now mostly dried) on the back palate with added chocolate. Water introduces a freshness to balance this power, as well as filling out the mid-palate.

Rich, sweet fruit and clove on the finish.

Another butt, but with more weight and richness. You begin to see themes emerge and how time and cask play variations on those.

This Goes Down Easy.

Rumbustious Sherry cask character, which mixes those blue fruits with some bodega funkiness: that lovely (well, I love it) cheese rind element, old Serrano ham with fruit, leather, prune and hints of nuttiness, which comes across as chestnut purée. Big, certainly, but balanced with Sherry-soaked wood and, with water, Christmas cake, bruised plum, sultana and apple.

Broad and heavily Sherried, this is the weightiest so far, with a mix of Sherry, inky newsprint and coffee grounds on the tip of the tongue, some coal-like dustiness and liquorice in the middle, then those dark, aromatic plums and blueberries on the end. Rich and layered, it holds water well, bringing out Bourbon biscuits, resin and a slight oiliness before the estery brightness (grilled pineapple) adds lift. Flirts with sulphur.

Dried peel and dark fruits.

One for the Sherry lovers.

Deep and powerful. I’d Rather be the Devil.

Initially, this is softer, slightly shyer than #986 (which might be partly down to the lower strength). There’s a shared sultana element, but more overt citrus elements, while the fruitiness moves towards pomegranate molasses and scented candles. It steadily grows in assurance, becoming a polished mix of dried orchard fruit, macadamia, orange peel.

A very soft start, with a gentle mid-palate. There’s great flow and a sense of a softening maturity, with waxy fruit that expands with water, which adds in cocoa powder, subtle tannins, then cherry and cinnamon tea, and some raisin.

Drying initially, then the fruits.

You need to work a little at this one, but it is rewarding.

A soft, slow builder once you get your head around it. As warm and fuzzy as a Big Muff.

Now here’s odd. It opens with this note which I sometimes get with an old whisky of the air inside an empty cupboard, a ghostly aroma of the smell of time lost. Then, like many of its kind, it begins to fill in. There’s some cold Darjeeling tea, then aromatic woods, resin, some sweet, raisined fruits, a little beeswax and then a needling, bone-dry oloroso element which will thrill true Sherry lovers. In time you pick out spent cigar, rum-and-raisin, and chocolate. At its best neat.

Sweet, with a heavy concentration of fruit, but that light airiness is still evident even after all this time (and the attentions of a Sherry butt). The tannins are more grippy, but there’s some dried mint and oregano, then date and pruney richness.

Coffee grounds.

Everything eventually is concentrated into an essence. A fascinating journey. I reckon that Billy Walker’s done it again.

That Billy Walker, He’s Got All the Whiskey.