Batch 143

Powerful, and fruity with this slow expansion into thick fruit syrups, rosehip, ripe apple, black cherry/tayberry, tangerine marmalade, and manuka honey. There’s a scented element as it opens and begins to show the layers and complexities of maturity. There’s added depth when water is added: sweet date, some light wood, the brightness of sumac, some toffee apple, and then a heady jasmine element.

Sweet, unctuous and concentrated, with berry and orchard fruits to start which heads towards mango, all encased in this caramelised natural syrupy feel. The supporting structure becomes more apparent when water is added and the heady florals begin to unfold along with more estery fruits, though it remains sweet and sumptuous.

Spicy and surprisingly light.

Balblair in ridiculously effusive form. Heady stuff.

Rich, energetic and almost too much, but with Grace.

Light nose burn on this with a mix of fresh orchard fruit, some sanded wood, then toffee, dried rasps and touches of butterscotch toffee. Opens gently with a touch of grassiness, but this is quickly followed by a very Balblair soft (berry) honeyed fruitiness which remains in charge. Its complexities could be overlooked by the surprising freshness for its age. There’s cinnamon, peach, mixed peel, and a whisper of dry leaves. Water shows its mature elements with a light waxiness.

Mouth-filling and generous, there’s some stewed rhubarb, orange, and red fruits which add a light acidity that sits above caramel flan and more Sherried elements. Never heavy, the key to this is the way in which the subtle spices, the sandalwood elements, caramel, and the fruits work together. Relaxed, mature.

After this control there’s a late burst of black fruits and spice, then caramel sauce on ice cream.

If the 2000 is all show and lushness this has elegance, length and depth. One of those you keep coming back to.

A clear relation to the 2000, but with more age and sophistication. Once I Was.

A massive melange of coffee and ripe Rioja-like strawberries and chocolate, mixed with cherry and cassis. When neat you have no idea of age or maturity, it’s just this wall of sweet, rich, red fruits (with a dollop of marzipan). When water is added the coffee remains, but now we get the sense of time: dusty spices, strawberry yoghurt, apricot, red fruit syrup, beeswax polish and cedar.

Now the mature elements start to show (again especially after a drop, no more, of water). It starts with rose and scented woods, waxy (floor polish) cigar box, which by the centre of the tongue have yielded to Dalmore’s signature blackcurrant pastille and some bitter chocolate. The tannins are remarkably well balanced.

Ripe with layered red fruits and Ribena.

A lesson in working with aged spirits and flavour management.

Fruity but with considered depth, and as smooth as Caramel.

Round and gentle with ripe pear, flaky pastry, cold butter, old-fashioned lemonade, and light ginger accompanied by a touch of discreet oak. It’s all brioche, white chocolate, and orange Starburst which then gives way to light oak. There are subtle complexities at work here. With water, there’s pastéis de nata, and frangipane tart, while the pear and melon reappear. Just lovely.

A sweet start with Danish pastry glazed with honey, then dusted with cinnamon and allspice, with an added herbal element and some pineapple kicking in on the back palate.

Fading into nutmeg and dry spices.

Delicious and mellow and hugely drinkable. There ain’t a lot, so get cracking.

Hard at work in a patisserie. This is the Song of a Baker.

Punchy, with maritime smoke and the aroma of drying driftwood backed with bog myrtle/bay rum, then a mace-like spiciness before things cool down with a smear of apple sauce. Steadily adds a gentle depth which hints at dashi. This balance is maintained when water is added although the mineral elements are upped and a more youthful edge shows itself.

Light agave syrup to start, with a bonfire-like woodsmoke element mingling with pine, some moss, and salinity. The mid-palate has a soft length with hits of spice adding a tingling effect. By the back palate you’re heading into lemon being squeezed on oysters.

Peppery, then smoky.

The first bottlings from Mossburn whose Borders distillery should be open this year. Aged in ex-Bourbon barrels, then given a second maturation in a mix of casks with fresh Bourbon staves, and others with heads made with heavily-toasted European oak. Well worth a look and would make a mean Highball.

Sitting on the harbour wall eating Haddock and Chips.

Concentrated, almost meaty Sherried elements accompanied by dried peels, almond, fresh pomegranate, and redcurrant. Then it begins to sweeten and soften into milky coffee/milk chocolate. It’s somehow robust and earthy, but gentle at the same time. In time, a hint of inner tube, a little sulphur (especially with water), dry moorland and a rewarding Sherried funk.

Lush and rounded, with dusty heather root, then little spikes of attack adding interest all the way through: cacao, red fruits, chili pepper, before it starts to deepen into fig, raisin, and cake mix, all balanced by vanilla and caramel, with a floral top note. When water is added it becomes more juicily fruity and spicy. A balanced and rather substantial dram with good length.

Concentrated. Date.

This is a rewarding and fun dram that’s proof of great blending. Like the Island, this uses a complex mix of casks (detailed on the label) kicking off in refill ex-Bourbon, then a secondary maturation in either first-fill oloroso butts, or heavily charred virgin American oak.

Gentle and strange, Skippin’ Barfit Through the Heather.