Batch 210

Huh? Eight years old and already the colour of a Brexit voter relaxing in his Spanish second home. Smoked and slightly burnt (the whisky that is; then again…), there is the scent of soy sauce on barbecued pork, grilled peppers, then on to rowan berry reduction, pomegranate molasses and geranium. Sweet, smoky and Sherried, which also means that dilution closes it down, but brings out more fireplace smokiness, some chorizo and more roasted characters. Fascinating and bizarre.

Heavy and oily with the distinct taste of sweet (Old East India) Sherry, then the smoke comes in, adding a new layer to the honey-and-pepper cashew effect. Water actually pulls out some sweet fruits and raisin, and once again the sticky glaze on the smoked meat.

Rich and smoked, with a hint of bitterness at the end.

It’s utterly bonkers, but somehow there’s still distillery character in there. Grab one, or find a bar with a bottle (Inverness’ Malt Rooms has one).

The storm builds in its fury on The Sea.

Back to slightly more orthodox ways. A pale straw colour with that distinctive mixture of mineral salts, mezcal’s green vegetable elements, sea-washed pebbles and wreaths of smoke, which you expect from Caol Ila at this stage. There’s also some fresh mint alongside some salami, fennel seed and black pepper. Water makes it leaner, saltier, with the smoke now in the background, while the mintiness is retained.

Immediately smoky, and then the oils work alongside light creaminess on the centre, which then opens into a lovely, balancing almond oil-accented sweetness. Becomes increasingly rounded without losing any of its youthful energy. Unlike many of a similar age, there’s more to this than just a blast of smoke. That sweet, weighty mid-palate adds another dimension. Water brings in pear, agave, pepper and more beach bonfire.

Smoked oysters.

Sailing in high winds on a bumpy sea in the sunshine.

Comfortable on the waves, My Home is the Sea.

There’s more interaction with the oak here, which appears to have boosted the phenols into dried kelp/nori, some sesame, then hot crab/scallop shells on a barbecue. There’s still a distinctly maritime air, but now the fruits are also showing: pear and banana skin, then a grassy, dill-like herbal note. With water things become oilier and also more saline, alongside kippers, lardo and punchy phenolics.

A sweet, almost nutty start gives way to coconut milk, then mussels smoked over juniper and fir. As it unfolds itself, you begin to notice the weight and soft roundness of the centre, which is also filled with slippery squiddy things and gravlax. The smoke is now thrust forward like a reluctant child at a school concert. Water brings with it an increase in acidity and saltiness, which in turn is balanced by that oily, smoked fish quality. Expands into a mix of ashes, fragrant smoke, verbena, brine and tomatillo.

Sweet nut, smoke and grassiness.

A complete package. Remarkable for its age.

A Sea of Vapours.

Back to the lower oak style. Pan drops, espadin [mezcal agave variety], green tomato, oyster brine and more saline than smoky. There’s also a slight prickle of celery salt, wasabi, green salad leaves, macadamia. Water makes things stonier.

This comes as a surprising contrast to that fairly flinty nose. It’s gentle, sweet and a little estery. The seashore element is now winkles and clams, then comes a fragrant herbal quality, while the salinity is now like tyrosine crystals in Parmesan. Water initially makes it sweeter and almost well-mannered – there’s some smoked pineapple – then the smoke comes back, cooling. It’s oddly tidal, the impact of the smoke; it recedes and sweetens before the waves come back to hit the rocks.

Flash-fried scallops.

Things are still bunched up, but it’s balanced and would make a killer Highball.

Playing with Pebbles on the Beach.

In compete contrast to the others, this is all funked up. Rubbery, with whiffs of cabbage water and smoke hitting first. Some of the more, er, pungent elements do flash off, leaving rendering pork fat, tatami/reed, that menthol thing seen earlier, sorrel and (very) old discarded crab shells drying on the harbour wall. Water reveals an angular quality and a boggy, slightly grubby element, bordering on feints.

Prickly, almost heathery smoke dominates, then comes the rubbery note, which is unusual for Caol Ila. Water does improve things a little: some mirin/sake, green vegetables and then we dive into the smoke again.

Oily and smoky.

Let’s move on…

A cold wind off the sea. Fog Rolling In.

A mellow and subtly smoky mix of grassiness, with some melon and cucumber, then spikes of bacon fat and creosoted garden twine. There seems to be a hint of dried fruit in here, while the smoke – on the phenolic rather than woodsmoke side – is integrated. Water adds a nutty element and smoked cream.

It’s that nuttiness which kicks things off here: sweet, malty, porridge-like, with a mixture of smoke and honey. There’s some ripe and cooked apple before you get a hit of dried chillies dry roasting on a hot plate. The smoke by now is all-enveloping. Water makes it sweeter, with hints of peanut, then the smoke (there’s a tiny rubbery thing in there). It flicks between the two extremes.

Hot and smoky.

Well-constructed. Perky and handy for mixed drinks.

The seal sings the final Sea Song.