Batch 205

An intriguing mix of coconut, beeswax, cooked apricot, honey and lemon tart, with a dusting of cinnamon. It continues in this rather lovely vein, bringing in pure saffron and Angelica as it heads first towards Yellow Chartreuse territory and then, as a floral element starts to emerge, a fine-boned, mature Cognac. When water is added, you get peach nectar and propolis [bee glue], then vanilla pod and light mango.

Thick, waxy and mouth-coating. It’s quite front-loaded when neat, giving you an instant hit of the peaches (jelly cubes now) and a red fruit element, which adds some acidity. By the middle of the palate it is all frangipani flowers and honeysuckle. Then it seems to flag a little, but rouses itself again. The water coaxes it across the palate, bringing out some drying oak that is balanced by a buttery quality, then a light waxiness and beautifully ripe apricots and apples.

Citric, honeyed, gently and sweetly spiced, and vinous.

Beautifully poised and elegant.

The day cooling down, sunset on the First of August.

This is a slightly baffling and contradictory mix of light maltiness – spelt flour, roasted hazelnut, then silage and an almost dusty smokiness peeking out alongside hints of shy woodland flowers. It then becomes leaner, showing low oak interaction. Again, there’s a little hint of smoke as well as more of a starchy feel, some tattie scone and linoleum.

Creamy, then hazelnut (aka burnt) butter, some unripe strawberry, and next estery elements adding a top note to the nutty base, before the same dusty smokiness (smoked flour... and yes, it does exist) comes in. When duly watered there’s a slight lactic note, and some beef dripping, before it corrects itself and becomes light and acidic.

Rapeseed oil, then light smoke.

Seems to come in fits and starts, each time offering a new facet. Cubist whisky, who’d have thought…

Picasso comes to Kirkcaldy tae sup wi’ a Fifer.

Well, it sure is rummy. Banana skin, pear tart, pineapple esters, lime peel. Warming and quite (rum) punchy. In time there’s cream toffee, white chocolate, rose-scented soap and a hit of solvent as the funkiness of the rum continues to develop. Water doesn’t stop the sweet elements, but does add in some oolong tea, orchid and macadamia, with boozy tiramisu at the end.

Fat and juicy with huge, almost ponderous fruit. It fairly flumps onto the palate with the heat (62% abv? good grief) adding a certain pizzazz. You can then start to pick out super-ripe tropical fruit and light oak, as well as a retro-nasal whiff of acetone/nail polish, which then moves to overripe banana, cashew and elements of cane and grass. When water’s added the fruits fatten and ripen, becoming increasingly tropical with, finally, some of Miltonduff’s floral aspects showing.

Long and plump, with some gingery fizziness.

The rum’s in charge here. Rather ridiculous, but rather delicious as well.

Unusual aroma? Jamaican Funk, that’s what it is. Gotta get in the groove.

Immediate dry smoke, like peat ashes in the fireplace grate the next morning; then sea breeze (someone’s opened the window) with a light saline touch (there’s been a storm), before you get a minty toothpaste-like freshness (told you it was the morning) adding a cooling element. Things become sweeter when water is added, with clams, umeshu and apple.

Green to start with: grass clippings, silage (again) and then cattle cake, but also this lovely, balancing sweetness: chestnut mixed with light verjus and the saline/mineral element. With water there’s a fatter, creamier mouthfeel, and all-pervading smoke. Balanced, with subtle complexity.

Salty, sweet.

Each of these has been matched with one of Brewdog’s beers – in this case it’s the brewer’s Jet Black Heart milk stout. It was a surprise combination for me. The beer is big, heavily roasted and filled with black fruits. The roasted coffee bitterness links with the smoke, but it’s the sweetness of the whisky and its fat mid-palate that’s the key. Immensely chewy and thick – and hugely rewarding.

The man in black walks up to the bar, ‘Hello… I’m Johnny Cash,’ (RIP Rev. D. Wayne Love).

Bang! In-yer-face rye: all embrocation, allspice, oils, rhubarb and cracked black pepper, then terpene central – like being lost in a Christmas tree plantation. Water doesn’t calm it down in any way, though it does add in some sweeter orchard fruits. Reminds me of Badedas bath oil, and as its slogan went, ‘things happen’ after one of those.

The palate is, thankfully, calmer and less aggressive than the nose, the oils now taking charge and oozing on the tongue, with some caramel and sweet black fruits trying to soften things down, but then it starts to show its claws, as rye always does, with pepper, spice and acidity. Water brings out green apple and fennel, and a slight astringency.

Spicy, hot and buzzy.

I usually love Millstone rye, but this is too forceful for me. Sadly, it also butts heads with the Dead Pony Pale Ale it’s paired with, whose citric fragrance heads off in one direction while the whisky rampages over everything else.

A liquid equivalent of Miserlou… (RIP Dick Dale)

A typically gentle opening with some light quince, tinned pear, nemesia and some custard tart, then crisp oak, wet reed and a delicate waxiness. Comes alive with water (or indeed beer). Lightly lemony, with some suede and praline. Vibrant.

Upfront and quite solid with a juicy mid-palate: melon, cucumber, lychee, light orange and a sliver of almond. By the mid-palate there’s some mace and Victoria plum. With water you get more fleshiness and subtle notes of guava, along with a little mintiness at the back.

Lightly spicy.

A balanced, gentle dram that blooms when paired with Punk IPA’s hoppy intensity. Rather than the beer dominating, the whisky calms things down, adding fragrant top notes and rounding off the more, er, feisty edges. A really great pairing. On its own you get the feeling that the whisky is waiting to be asked to dance. When the beer obliges, what a couple they make.

Going gently woozy at a Stoned Soul Picnic.