Batch 43

Red in hue. From the off you know this is an unreconstructed Sherry bomb for a’Bunadh lovers (but somewhat less sulphury). You can pick out the distillery’s blackcurrant notes from behind the dried mixed fruits, Armagnac-like pruniness and grilled red peppers. It’s sweet, albeit slightly singed by the match that’s been struck towards the end.

Big and quite tannic with some heat showing before the mid-palate adds good weight, sweetness and a mix of red and black fruits alongside a whiff of burning hair. Water, as ever, brings out more tannin, but also black cherry. I’d be cautious with its addition as there is sweet power here.

Tight and lightly, pleasantly, bitter.

A very good example of a first fill Sherry cask (#4738 if you are interested in such things). Not particularly my style, I admit, but there’s plenty of folk who like this sort of thing. Marked without prejudice.

Imagine your surprise when, as you eat a jammy piece beside the Spey, Arthur Brown walks across the Penny Bridge.

A big, blue, fragrant nose: blueberry, quetsch, plum jam. Sweet and syrupy, with some spice from the oak. Everything is very powerful and cask-driven, which doubles up the distillery’s honeyed signature, then adds just a hint of nut at the back. Water, I think, makes things better because there’s some balancing dryness, and a little citric element.

There’s some light structure here, while the thickness of the distillate and the Madeira influence adds black grape and honey. It is, however, slightly blurry, with pretty much the same flavours from the start to the end.

Sweet and fruity.

A big, thick lump of flavour. Approachable, sweet, it ticks all the boxes, it’s just not complex.

We’re in a Big Blue World. Cue Paul Haig…

The colour of a Navarra rosado and with some of its aromatic qualities as well: strawberry, cranberry, a hint of cream, but there’s also an aroma like a wet field after harvest. Water, amazingly, makes things hotter.

A burnt cereal quality after what is a rather likeable nose. The sweetness tries to ease its way out, but there’s now a hard edge which could be youth or distillery character (or both). Water just smears that singed element across the tongue, the fruit only perking up again on the end.

Hard. Short.

Saved by the nose. You know what? In a couple of years’ time, this could be rather lovely.

Sipping rosado while watching the fields burn.

A very clean, lightly floral Girvan, with some heat, candied orange and lemon peel, a little creaminess that slowly develops into toffee.

Lively and sweet with some sticky depth, then sweet cereal, powdery ginger spice. It has a pure line of acidity adding a green citric edge to a palate that’s been filled out with the toffee. Water adds a touch of oak and more spice. Has balance and style.

Butterscotch.

Lively and rather delightful.

Happily eating Sugar Puffs with the Honey Monster and Dr John Cooper Clarke.

Barking mad from the off. An aroma of a thick reduction of bletted medlar, envelope glue, thick green Oolong, a cider press after the juice has been extracted, toffee apple, dried fruits and even a little sulphur.

Thick, savoury and chewy. There’s touches of rhubarb crumble, apple syrup that’s been allowed to maderise, and fennel seed.

Fat and rich with some dried fruits.

A Sherried grain? Undoubtedly one of the weirdest whiskies I’ve had for ages. Like it!

Stuck with Jim Hawkins in the apple barrel. For a very long time.

The fabled meatiness is dried and more delicate here – bresaola rather than roast beef. There’s damp autumn leaves, sweet mushroom, along with golden syrup-coated nuts, a handbag shop. Sadly it fades a little quickly, as if it’s put all its effort into releasing those initial aromas.

Soft, with a lovely and quite subtle depth that never hits the profound depths of some expressions. Instead things are kept lighter and slightly sweeter, with some light grip and this yellow fruit element. There’s a carbonised element with water, so I’d leave alone.

Mixing fruits and light meatiness.

A really subtle dram which you need to concentrate on.

A day moth eases itself out of its chrysalis.