Batch 186

Sweet, with some creamy oak, a little cereal, linden blossom and, just at the back, a charred note with some very slight mustiness (Sherry bodega). It then snaps back with apples, pear drops and soft fruit. In time, there’s sultana, custard tart and milk chocolate, while water brings forth tarte tatin hot from the oven, green mango and supple oak. Altogether rather elegant.

Starts estery-fresh with Williams pear, then begins to show that Compass Box American cream soda thing and a thick, tongue-clinging quality (probably from the Clynelish), with clingstone peaches dribbled with single cream, before you’re surprised by a fusillade of spices. It’s very much in three movements. Water brings these elements into harmony, alongside apricot and cinnamon. Soft and engaging.

Strawberry and stewing apple.

Deliciously well-made. Yet another reason to head to Paris and Juveniles Wine Bar, that home of great wines, food and raucous bonhomie.

Feeling peckish while strolling On The Champs-Elysées.

Hugely mature and vinous. A heady mix of botrytised Sémillon, stewing apricot, sweet persimmon, barley sugar, honeycomb and a decadent sense of decay. You wonder for a second if it’s a wine or a whisky, then comes a touch of fresh barley and Demerara sugar being blowtorched onto fresh pineapple. With a tiny drop of water you get baked quince, and things become brighter without ever losing this succulent, rancio-influenced oozing quality.

As you expect from the nose, but now you can see the layers and this sense of compression which you get from the best whiskies of this age, which can either become thinned-out and emaciated or, as here, find a comfortable, elegant resolution. Now there’s crème brȗlée dotted with black fruits and an increase in the soft waxiness. The water adds a heady scent, mingling day lilies, incense and a saffron-influenced herbal element. Superb.

Stewed fruits sprinkled with cinnamon.

Late harvest whisky or a butt of already-blended Speyside malts? Marked – like them all – in its competitive set.

I’ll walk and talk in gardens all wet with rain, you Sweet Thing.

After the initial whiff of Cow Gum you get oleo-saccharum (sugared citrus syrup), wet grass, then homemade wholemeal bread. It’s one of those whiskies whose angles seem to shift each time you look at it, switching from this very pure, albeit slightly spirity, high-toned quality to maltiness, then lilac and dusty ivy. A greener, vegetal element emerges when water is added, mixed with melon, sesame oil and pancake batter.

Sweeter and more floral, with some green apple to start with. Although there’s touches of coconut and gooseberry, it’s pretty hot. Water thankfully calms things down, allowing the more succulent fruits to develop, alongside a light chalkiness, like ivy on a plaster wall.

Hot, with touches of flowers.

A little short, but once you add water, an easy sipper.

Hard to pin this Shape Shifter down.

A distinct perfumed note, all Parma Violet and lavender, with a slight artificial lemon soapy quality. With water, some blanched almond, rouge and cut flowers.

A strange one. It’s so pale and yet delivers a fragrant, floral element alongside some oats and hazelnut. Has a similar quality to the Eadie, with dry malt suddenly pivoting towards citrus and light fruits. Quite tight in the middle of the mouth. It's another which is really hot, demonstrating the lack of any soothing balm from a slightly more active cask. Water brings the violet thing back again. It remains hot, even at high dilution, which buggers up the overall balance.

Tight and hot.

With more time this would have developed nicely, but it only shows flashes of what might have been.

Miss Otis sits at her dressing table. She regrets nothing.

Soft and light, with some tinned apricot, kiwi fruit, elderflower and hyacinth, then comes some slightly plain oak which flattens that exuberance a little. In time, you get coriander powder. It seems undecided as to which way to go, and this restlessness continues when water is added. There’s some tinned rice pudding, grassiness, then bread and grist.

Very light and somewhat thin. It starts quite watery and dry, with flaky pastry, then green pear and some banana. Lacks a little mid-palate energy and, though water offers an initial lift, binding in some soft vanilla and more of the cut grass, overall it’s rather flat.

Cereal and lemon peel.

Caught in two minds.

Wracked with adolescent angst, when will it start to Creep forward?

There’s some maturity on show here, along with frothy apple juice, green peaches, sweet baking spices, then a yeasty element with green olives and lemon. There’s a similar tension here to the G&M, along with some spirity notes. Water drifts it towards the aroma of a young Cuban rum with green pepper, lime and slice.

Initially, there’s a slight waxy feel, then the alcohol chimes in (a theme this week) and rages across the back palate. There’s clearly potential, so add water. This improves things, adding a charred element and, though the heat still niggles away, now it’s adding spice and helps to lift the top notes, allowing the fruits to push through underneath.

Heat.

It’s another where you can’t help but feel there is an underlying and as yet unresolved tension.

Stuck at an awkward dinner Party.