Batch 173

This is slightly surprising on first approach as it’s like walking into an old-fashioned sweet shop – strawberry chews, rhubarb and custards, and bubblegum. Go back after a minute and things have become significantly richer and funkier as the Sherry casks come into their own, adding Jamaica ginger cake, raisin, fur coats and leather oil. The addition of water brings out more earthy elements, leaf litter, sweet chestnut and old books. There’s a hefty elegance at work here. In time there’s apple and another hint of those confectionery elements.

Copes with the alcohol well although things are very spicy, adding a gingery bite to rich dried fruit. Boisterous, robust and funky with supple tannins. Things remain on the deeper side when diluted, though the water seems to liberate a range of top notes, adding complexity and bringing back those strawberries.

Bitter coffee and (not for the only time this week) chocolate.

Bn7 either means Bunnahabhain, benzyl or that this comes from Lewes. I suspect the first. Whatever, it’s highly recommended. As is Lewes, come to think of it. 

Funky Fingers start to play.

Rich, with a pleasingly oxidised quality as well as stewing citrus peels, red fruits, then soft caramel toffee. It’s mature and cask-influenced but has also retained freshness, all of which adds to its overall complexity. When water is added there’s some fresh fig, more dried fruit and a hint of nut, but the fragrant element is retained. There’s even some sherbet lemon.

Slightly off-dry element (which is very palo cortado) with more apparent structure than on the nose. Things steadily progress towards walnut whip, espresso and those almost savoury oxidised notes. The mid-palate is all peppered cashew and a hint of caraway. Be careful with the water. A drop stirs in more grip and some cacao.

That lightly bitter Bunna’ bite.

Two years in palo cortado have added a subtle savoury element. Recommended.

That bite, just like you stood on a water mossacin [sic], according to Roosevelt & Ira Lee.

There’s some nose prickle alongside malted milk and sourdough bread with raisins. Robust with some nuttiness, in time moving to moist fruit cake and oven-warm chocolate muffins. As it develops you get pure fruit along with a vegetal element and hints of the perfume seen on the Bn7. There’s freshly-polished linoleum and overripe banana when water is added, along with dry bracken.

Generous and soft to start with only a light grip. Chocolate dominates the tongue, but there’s a hint of youth in the centre before you get a covering of creamy coffee, then ginger in syrup. When diluted, you’re greeted with two scoops of vanilla and rum-and-raisin ice cream.

Nuts, pepper, ginger, light clove. Softening.

Has good distillery character and the immediacy of style which makes the Octave series so approachable.

A delicious bowl of Homemade Ice Cream.

Refined and quite sweet. There’s an instant hit of lemon verbena and ginger juice which gives it the paradoxical effect of being simultaneously fresh, yet mature. The aromas progress into Calvados, then fresh quince. It has an almost diffident quality. Water shows how it wears its age lightly, and on its own terms. There’s some light oxidation without even dampening the brightness of the fruit, or its overall sophistication.

Quite light to start, with a lightly powdery quality things really get going in the middle and back palate, where there’s a bitter nut element balancing the acidity and vibrancy. The effect is of Bunna’ being stripped back to its core elements but with this added gloss of maturity. Subtle and refined.

Lightly ashy again.

A little fruit bomb and a refreshing alternative to the rest on show.

A courtly southern gent thinking about his life on the Midnight Train.

Integrated, quite turfy or mossy smoke with a background of deep, almost roasted cereal elements that is allied to wild hedgerow fruit, all balanced with camphor and watermint. Clean and crisp rather than flabby. Water adds in a mineral quality along with light citrus and balanced smoke.

A lovely mix of nut and spice to start before the billowing smoke is released. There’s light oak notes adding just a touch of cardamom and mace, but also some treacle tart and depth with that mineral back. Water brings out more of the fruit elements: cassis, tobacco, a whiff of cedar, then marmalade and slightly less smoke. Excellent balance.

Briny, with prickly spices and smoke.

Mòine has really hit its straps here.

There might be some voodoo at work, but there ain’t no Hoodoo.

A deep reddish colour and a rewarding nose of stewing red plums, and cherry cola that steadily becomes more vinous along with some chewy, Assam tea-like maltiness before things switch back to fruit trifle and smooshed red fruits. Water stirs in blackberry and rose hip syrup.

A pretty sweet start. The spirit seems light and the two elements are eyeing each other up a little. It’s cask-driven (or rather, finish-driven), with an intriguing (and pleasant) bittersweet aspect, but things do fall away from the mid-palate onwards, as if the original cask hadn’t given enough of a foundation on which to build. Accordingly, the finish has taken charge. With water there’s a mix of red, squishy strawberries and blackcurrant.

Ripe fruits, some bite, and more cherry.

It’s been finished in a cask that’s previously held ‘Cahors’ (aka pastoral wine) made from Cabernet Sauvignon in Moldova’s Chateau Purcari. More about the finish than the Bunna’.

Perfect if you have a Sweet Tooth.