Batch 201

Full of zingy, toasted wood spices, dry oak and cedar – it’s as engulfing as walking into a sauna. There’s vanilla-rich white chocolate ganache, which floats gracefully above the spicy depths, and while the effect of the virgin oak finish dominates, Balvenie’s signature honey and dried fruits are still there. The fresh oak hasn’t assumed total control at this stage. In fact, the extra toasted wood teases out Balvenie’s often-overlooked dark fruit character – figs and blackberry coulis.

Sweet, and simply vanilla-rich at first glance. Give it time in the mouth for the fruit to develop – raisins, dried citrus peel, some more blackberry coulis and a dribble of clear honey. From there on the wood spice starts to build quite intensely. Now the oak has taken a dominant stance. Water brings out a sweeter side, dampening those spicy tones and allowing more of the fruit to shine through while keeping that dry, oaky, sauna experience.

As the wood spice fades, things become a little dry, with lingering notes of liquorice, menthol and a touch of runny honey.

An intriguing finish in virgin oak for Balvenie’s new Stories range, a distillery that’s no stranger to double cask maturation. While the wood slightly dominates, I’d say it’s still one to try.

A round robin in a Swedish sauna: Take A Chance, Take A Chance, Take-a Take-a Chance Chance.

Honey-rich and with a sweetly peated character that’s so soft and almost dessert-like – burnt pastry or the heavily flamed sugar crust of a crème brûlée. Then comes the fruit – dried apricots and peaches in honey. There’s a weightiness there, a slightly sour tone, which dances playfully with the smoke.

The peat doesn’t hit you immediately, rather it wades in through sticky honey and fruit crumble, building towards the mid-palate alongside a touch of spice. It never dominates though; it works in tandem with Balvenie’s signature fruitiness. Water heightens the sweetness and softens the smoke further.

Dry with some delicate smoke, which has taken on more of a medicinal, TCP characteristic now.

An evolution of Balvenie Peat Week, which was launched in 2017. It’s still balanced, still enjoyable, and still retains that delicate smokiness while maintaining Balvenie’s signature character.

The distillery is engulfed by peat smoke, but just for One Week.

Dusty malt barn (you can really imagine the distillery workers lugging sacks of chocolate malt up to the loft, as per the expression’s backstory) with notes of dark chocolate and a solid, bitter stout. Things turn more exotic, with crystallised ginger, dried papaya and fresh pineapple, all laced with honey, of course, and dotted with dark chocolate chips.

Viscous and sweet; it really envelopes the tongue. It’s a quiet start, all honey and malt and a touch of wood spice, but those exotic fruits begin to build, throwing papaya, mango and passionfruit at your palate, all the while growing in intensity. A thick, sweet, chocolatey current carries it through, but there’s enough wood spice to anchor the sensation. A proper saliva starter.

Quite long and chocolatey, but faint. Like the memory of a pleasant dream.

Stunning. A real journey of a dram on the tongue. Old Balvenie can demonstrate beautiful exotic fruitiness, but that 10% of chocolate malt in the mash gives it a richer, darker quality.

On a dreich day. With a square of Chocolate.

Rich, Sherried and highly resinous: a mix of rosin, boat varnish and shoe leather, then clove, cooked blackcurrant and a gaminess which opens to the aromas of an old-growth forest. The richness of the distillery character is there alongside this big cask influence. It has real complexity. As it develops you get masses of dark chocolate and raisin, while the addition of a little water (be careful) brings out more dried fruit and some damson, while never losing its gaminess.

The cask has more influence here, opening with pimentón-like smokiness and then some lightly gripping tea-like tannins, which loosen when water is added. Robustly elegant, with walnut, then spiced black fruits and a tiny suggestion of a struck match. Leave it in the glass for a while and it develops a more layered, sweet, fruitcake quality with added prune and hard toffee.

Boldly fruity, then drying.

A belter of a Sherried ‘Dronach. Recommended for that special occasion.

The sort of dram that makes you say, ‘I Want More’.

Clean and quite delicate: a mix of pear and phlox [North American floral plant] with a suggestion of grassiness but fizzing with alcohol, which gets in the way slightly. In time though, there’s some dog rose, cherry blossom and apple. Water makes things a little softer: that apple is now in a sponge topped with Chantilly cream.

Things are now sweetly concentrated and have moved into Poire William territory, but there’s real heat here, meaning that the subtleties of the distillate remain obscured. Water helps to show the delicacy and precision, but despite the glimmerings of promise, it remains closed.

Fragrant and hot.

An odd one. Everything is in its right place, but hidden behind the alcohol. Rather than being shy, it’s repressed.

Locked indoors on a sunny Sunday afternoon in Stornoway looking out at a garden of flowers. Someone’s Chained Up The Swings.

This starts softly with light malt elements (bran flakes and peanut shell) and a sweetness peeking out from behind. Some crisp linen then meadow hay, with a touch of physalis and peach in the background. Water brings out a bready note mixed with limoncello and (slightly green, leafy) floral notes. In time, there’s a little more weight.

A light and also quite nutty start with a subtly sweet sultana-accented mid-palate, with added lemon icing balancing those dry (almond) and malty edges. The flavours hold well at the front and middle when a little water is added – maybe try with ginger ale in a Highball? In time you get more juiciness in the centre, and sweet oak, but it does fade.

Light spice and nuttiness, with raisin and coffee.

The rapid fade makes me wonder if a higher bottling strength might have been beneficial but this is a decidedly drinkable dram – one for a session (are you allowed to say that these days?)

Easy drinking? I Just Can’t Get Enough.