Batch 196

Funky; an almost meaty nose, with wet flannel, musk, a hint of smoke and then Bolst’s curry powder, some dried coconut and peachy fruit. The curried note continues when water is added – more coriander and mustard seed, then prune, violet and liquorice root. The funky element now glances towards goat curry. Filthy, but lovely.

A very slick, almost oily start that then turns around and introduces red cherry and a touch of bite as the alcohol bares its teeth. That almost meaty/leathery funkiness is still there alongside more fig fruit. Water imposes a certain degree of control, adding a slinky quality while not losing the oiliness, and adding more date fruit.  The smoke hangs around behind the bike sheds.

Long and belying its age. Slightly drying.

An astonishing young dram from Asta Morris, which seems to specialise in this sort of thing. You do occasionally sense that the cask is almost forcibly pulling the spirit out, like a child from its warm bed – but it works.

Moving at 3/5 of a Mile in 10 Seconds.

There’s an interesting lusciousness here right from the start, along with a touch of smoke and a tiny cereal element, giving some dryness. In time, you pick up stewing pears, meadow hay and a growing sultana-accented richness. Has that very Ardmore mix of smoke, fragrance and fruit. With water added, things move towards fruit and nut chocolate, more overt smokiness and the smell of a warm baguette dribbled with honey.

A sweet, slightly nutty start. This hazelnut quality carries all the way through (there’s a touch of Snickers bar in fact) though by the mid-palate you’re into a juicy, almost sticky, unctuous fruitiness mixed with flamed citrus peels. The smoke then kicks in. These changes are a little abrupt when neat, but water smooths the joins, adding substance and integrating the smoke, and bringing out darker dried fruits.

More dried fruits, nuts and embers.

This is one of those drams which you keep returning to, and it gets better each time you do. Relaxed, with just enough smoke, and great weight for its age. The Sherry hoggie strikes again.

Heading out rapidly on its Embryonic Journey.

Really sweet fruits to start: melon, tinned apricot, then apple sponge, before a more artificial confected quality takes over – an old-style sweet shop. In time you get some ginger, then things fade quickly and you are left with a cool, floral quality. Water lightens things while also bringing out more of the sweets: pear drops and soor plooms.

The way in which the nose fades hints at a slight fragility, but there’s just sufficient gentle red berry fruit in the centre of the tongue to give things a central focus. Then comes straw and lemon, and a touch of cream. Water dries things out but does stir in green apple.

Light, with some orchard fruits. Dries quickly.

Yes, I don’t get the maths either. An easy-drinking mid-afternoon sipper, and what’s wrong with that?

A taste of Spring.

Very pale, indicative of not-hugely-active casks. There’s some light rummy notes (green banana/banana peel) then some very light floral elements, lime cordial, but there is also a harshness at the back. Water makes it almost medicinal in a sterile/antiseptic cream way, while there’s a light rubber note as well. A car leaving a petrol station at speed.

For a second you think it’s back on track. A sweet, sugary start, then marshmallow, some molasses and then a more ’Burgiefied quality of cut flowers. It flips between these two elements while never being fully anchored to either. It becomes very mouth-drying, and while water gives it a more glycerol-like texture, it remains pretty hard.

Back to the banana skin.

Trinidad’s Caroni distillery, like so many ‘ghost’ plants, is becoming a cult; even though a lot of its rum was, frankly, faulty. Guys, rum ain’t meant to smell like petrol. Here there’s low cask from the outset and then old wood in the finish. Pass.

Pass the Dutchie.

Brimful of super-ripe tropical fruit and rancio, with things skewed more towards the latter. Fragrant, dried flowers, frangipani blossom mixed with heavy honey, propolis, then sumptuous ripe peach, guava and mango. Water adds a darker undertone as black fruits start to emerge, while the tropical fruits are now caramelised – there’s now touches of baked pineapple and sweet oak.

Surprisingly light on the tip of the tongue but then all the fruit and rancio gel in the middle of the tongue. The tannins do grip, but the weight of the fruit is such that they are just held at bay. A sip of cold water and you can pick up a more lengthy elegance with some sweet spice, berry fruits, bruised peach and rhubarb crumble, and the mature character extends itself fully. 

Elegant and lasting.

The lingering sillage of that gorgeous nose gives this real length. Old Tomatin. No one quite does it like this. Get saving.

Elegantly walking on Gilded Splinters.

Big and quite spiced fruits, mixing beeswax polish, red liquorice, stewed fruits and a slightly stiff edge as the firmness of the pot still starts to come through. Lightly scented with some oak, blackcurrant leaf and a little fresh barley. Water shakes it out, adding in more cooked fruits.

A fine, layered quality with some ginger, then green cardamom and citrus, before a mix of black fruit and Terry’s Chocolate Orange comes to the fore. There’s a hard edge, which gives a slight tension, but water adds control and a far creamier quality. There’s also a touch of membrillo peppery spice and a hint of savouriness, then blackcurrant and apple pie.

Quick and slightly short.

It’s not easy to balance single malt and pot still, never mind whiskey and Cognac; but this works. A lovely addition to an excellent range.

A quick dose of Blackberry Brandy.