Batch 150

An immediate impact of fresh, green apple/apple blossom, accompanied by sweet grass, elderflower cordial and early season rhubarb. There’s just a hint of chalkiness, giving it all the sensation of a Mosel Riesling. While delicate and highly approachable, there is a cool and restraint to this and, even when water is added, it remains calm and ordered: light lemon, William pear, green melon and finally some perfumed elements which nod towards lemongrass and green mango.

Spring-fresh with a frothy, almost lacy texture and those estery fruits giving a mouthwatering start. There is a feeling that it’s hiding more than it lets on, with the sense of some fuller, more rounded fruitiness (white peach purée) on the very back-palate. You do lose that impact when water is added.

Lightly citric and fresh.

Ice this down and serve as a white wine. The perfect summer aperitif.

Lazing in the sun at Grantchester Meadows.

A peat-forward and slightly oily/resinous Caol Ila, with the distillery’s mix of wild herbs, a touch of smoked ham and the sensation of a bracing dip in the sea. Mixes saltiness, basil, gammon steak (with pineapple) and olive oil. There’s more smoke released when water is added, along with sweet fruit salad elements.

Actually, after all of the smokiness of the nose, it becomes more sweet and fruity on the palate: Galia melon, banana, apricot dotted with fresh mint. The smoke is very subtly woven throughout. With water, there’s more lemon zest and sweet spice, while steadily the fire starts to burn, bringing more smoke into play.

Scallops with lemon juice.

Hugely approachable, with more weight and complexity than many of the peely-wally smoky brands out there.

Fresh, upbeat, a touch of herbal smoke. Time to Cool Down the Pace.

Although this has a fair amount of nose prickle, at its heart it is light and fragrant with floral touches, along with peppermint, then lovage and, in time, some lily and lemon zest. Water is needed in order to tease these out when, as well as a more heady aroma akin to a florist’s stand, there’s an added sweet touch of cake icing, ripe pear, whitecurrant jelly and sweet barley (malt bin), stirred together with fresh herbs and a hint of rapeseed oil in the background.

There’s a gentle elegance to this. Light and quite sweet, but don’t embark on it neat as it’ll just scald your tongue. A judicious amount of water brings out floral edges, some of the citrus and a buttery note to the mid-palate. Like the Balblair (see above), there’s a hidden depth here. As it develops, so there’s an increasing amount of night-scented flowers, while the cereal elements add an oat-like creaminess and a crunch of hazelnut.

Sweet spice, scone mix, cold (unsalted) butter and a touch of malt. Great balance.

In a world where whisky distillers wait impatiently for their spirit to reach its third birthday, the fact that Francis Cuthbert has waited a further decade to release his first whisky should be applauded – an analogue whisky-maker in a digital world. The intention was always to start releasing it when he deemed the whisky to be ready and this, one of the most anticipated releases of the year, does not disappoint. It might be lighter than some expect, but this is Daftmill. It has always confounded expectations.

Beside a chalk stream in summer. The Trout rising.

A faintly surprising, deep colour. A mix of mandarin peel and cereal with a perfumed note behind. Young and slightly spirity, and quite New World in its mix of upfront, sappy wood and hot, oily fruit. With water, there’s more eau-de-vie-like yellow fruit elements, some plain wood, tobacco and lightly scented candle.

Considerably different (and better-balanced) than the nose; sweet and rounded and, while the oiliness is there, there’s a touch of melting milk chocolate (Fruit & Nut). Ok, there’s some evidence of an undeveloped element in the back, and there’s a yet-to-be-reconciled tussle between the oak and the spirit, but there’s a sweet, scented quality and a dusting of white pepper. Water helps considerably, adding in some red fruit, extra sweetness and a balance is (just about) achieved.

Hot when neat, spicy and fruity with water.

The use of virgin American and French quarter casks aligns this more closely with the new whiskies from Australia. Strip the wood away and there’s an interesting spirit working away at the core. Allowing it time to develop and integrate is the next stage. Marked in its competitive set.

Who knows? It could be the Feel Good Hit of the Summer.

Evidence of Sherry cask maturation from the off, with sweet, oxidised notes, an earthy funk, plump raisin, orange peel and iced gingerbread. These are accompanied by honey and a touch of bread-and-butter pudding. As it opens, you pick out a mix of dried flowers and linseed oil. The sweetness is retained when water is added, along with some hot bread and a more nutty, Sherried element mixed with light green fig, sultana and, in time, even a hint of beeswax.

A sweet start, with semi-dried fruits, then a Sherried note, powdered ginger and coriander-like spiciness. When water is added, more of the distillery’s floral aspects come out, along with caramel toffee and that nutty note, but only a touch is needed. Even then, I’d leave this neat.

Figs, clove and chocolate.

The most substantial of the Discovery quartet, and a great introduction to Sherry cask maturation.

In the tutor’s study on a hot summer day, drinking amontillado Sherry and listening to Brahms’ String Quartet No 1.

A big, cereal-accented aroma, mixing warm Horlicks, apple pieces in muesli, sweet hay and, in time, some slightly musty cereals in old hessian sacks. After that has blown away, you realise it’s been obscuring an aromatic delicacy of tinned pineapple, peach and star fruit. Disconnect? It’s a Tormore thing.

Light in weight, it starts with ginger beer and lime, giving heat, fizz and aroma as the order of the nose is reversed: first out are the delicate aromatic fruits, then comes dry cereal/nuttiness at the back-palate. Water softens things.

Fresh baguette, gooseberry and lemon.

The nose is slightly odd, but the palate is better-integrated.

Zippy, fresh and poppy. That’s Tormore in Black and White.