Batch 218

Citrusy and light yet densely sweet and fruity – plump clementines and freshly-grated lemon zest; dried apricots soaked in honey with juicy sultanas. There’s a creamy density to the nose, a rich rum and raisin ice cream. The components eventually settle together, bound by a wisp of char.

Creamy and leathery with more of the ice cream, tutti frutti this time. The honey has taken a back seat, beckoning the fruits to the fore – candied orange pieces and Jelly Tots, while damp, tannic oak dries the sides of the mouth. That double-charred cask makes itself known as dark chocolate, liquorice and cinnamon-spiced cookie dough builds toward the back.

Surprisingly dry, a little spicy, but long and creamy.

Fruity, weighty and bold, a good value entrance to Balblair’s new age-stated range.

Sneaking a lick of the cookie dough mixture as Party Preparations get underway.

Pretty closed at first, so give it a minute to relax into the glass. It gets increasingly leathery, with rich, dark fruits moving gently, nervously forward, awakening from slumber – morello cherries, dried figs, plums, blackberries and a giant, beastly Black Forest gateaux.

Silky and decadent, and darkly rich. Liquorice blackcurrant sweets, crisp, high cocoa dark chocolate studded with dried cherries and currants, then a touch of marzipan and Demerara sugar. Some baking spice builds toward the middle but subsides gently, playfully.

Beautifully rich and drawn out.

Hugely satisfying. If cherries and chocolate are your bag, go buy this.

Sat quietly in the shed with the largest piece of the birthday cake. ‘I know that you’re Hiding.’

Ginger snaps and crispy, light, spongey madeleines. Notes of crunchy, caramel-coated popcorn, vanilla and marzipan satisfy the sweet tooth, while fragrant orange blossom and lemon barley water lift things considerably. It’s surprisingly lighter and fresher than the 15-year-old.

Juicy green apples and conference pears with a hint of tropical fruits – pineapples and yuzu – developing into toffee, vanilla and cinnamon-spiked cake mixture, Jamaica ginger cake and sugared almonds. There’s a floral element carried through, more of that fragrant orange, and rosewater.

A little dry and oaky, but zingy and pleasantly fruity.

A certain crowd-pleaser.

Strolling past the patisserie at 7am. It’s going to be a Lovely Day.

Another shy one, offering only a hint of rancio, soft leather and sultanas.  Water reveals green fruits, kiwis, Mirabelle plums and unripe banana, with an underlying tone of sticky blood orange. There’s a certain staleness that prevails.

Soft and chewy, oily and mouth-coating. It’s deep and dank, with notes of tobacco leaves, leather and milk chocolate. The fruit is timid, appearing as stewed apples and sultanas with a hint of hazelnuts. Water lightens things (just add a drop or two to retain that texture), coaxing out more of Balblair’s fruitiness – sticky orange juice from concentrate and toffee apples, which harmonises well with a gentle oak and anise spice.

Leathery and a touch sour, the rancio element bringing up the rear.

I’m yet to sample a disappointing old Balblair – with an age statement or vintage. This one is funky, fruity but shy. Give it some time in the glass.

Won’t you come out to play? All We Do is hide away.

Delicate and floral, with aromas of apple blossom and honey with caramel-drenched pear tarte tatin. There’s a bready element, lightly buttered toast, and gentle citrus notes in the shape of boiled lemon sweets (sherbet lemons).

Again, delicate at first, with creamy toffee, white-fleshed fruits – peaches and nectarines, and an oaky, slightly dry mouthfeel. There’s a spark of wood spice in the mid-palate before more fruits – baked apples and sour white grapes – and brioche weave in. There’s an acidic note of pomace [spent grape skins] that builds toward the finish...

…which leaves a light and fresh impression, albeit a touch oaky with more of that buttered toast.

Finished in French cuvée wine casks (which are used in the production of Champagne), this Glenfiddich has been designed as a celebratory whisky, though it’s a solid dram for any occasion, I’d say.

Strolling through Reims as the Yellow Sun beats down.

Fragrant and fruity, with Parma violets, wild strawberries, blackcurrants and fat black grapes. There’s a patisserie element in sugar-dusted almond croissants. Tannic grape skin and crunchy malt keep things from becoming too sweet.

Glenlivet’s signature green apple and citrus lift with hedgerow fruits thrown into the mix – blackcurrants, redcurrants and a slightly sour raspberry coulis. There’s weight in liquorice root and milk chocolate, while spice sneaks in courtesy of cinnamon buns.

Bitter dark chocolate, liquorice and more blackcurrants.

Fruity and warming. The Cognac influence doesn’t steal the show, this is very much still Glenlivet. Can someone bring me back a bottle from the US please?

Huddled up in a Speyside bothy, Dreaming of sun-drenched French vineyards.