Tastes

Sweet smelling, with cereal, light honey, and an even lighter smokiness. The taste is straightforwardly malty but is helped by the sticky sherry influence. Actually, no, the sherry turns quickly into a less pleasant medicinal wave, which unfortunately seems to dominate the finish too. There might be some cinnamon and slight smoke hiding beneath it all, but it seems rushed, thrown together, unsure of itself.

I love how light in color this gem is. Rubber freaking band. A green leather armchair (and the sound you hear when you sit in it). Seaweed, smoke, and the char of a smoked beef brisket. Finishes to infinity and beyond with peat and slight hints of wintergreen. Update: My incredible wife surprised me with a bottle of this. Further nosing reveals a sweeter, more buttery whisky than I remember—smoked Gouda and Macintosh apples in addition to all that phenolic goodness. The palate's more nuanced notes beneath the peat and oil include bergamot and caramel cream.

Peaches and cream on the nose immediately, with an alcohol burn carrying rich cocoa powder; the aroma doesn't leave anything wanting. On the palate I find honey nut breakfast cereal, banana walnut bread; there's a strong minerality at the base and mid-palate offerings include astringency and an array of spices like pepper, mustard seed, and allspice. Crisp, mineral mouthfeel and a sweet, abiding finish of stewed fruit. A malt with superb Highland character that comes full circle.

Nose of white pepper, pear, and lilacs. Impressions of hayfields, cobblestone after the rain. The body is tealike, astringent, and emphasizes vanilla. The finish is pleasant but diminishes without much ado, carrying the consistent simplicity to the end. One to share.

The aroma reminds me initially of the Classic Laddie 10; it's light, forwardly salty (think seagulls calling), and floral, later bringing baked apples to mind. The palate doesn't offer surprises but well reinforces the aroma with the cursory first sip — it's delicate, salty, spiceful in its maltiness, and burns early. Throughout, there are hints of sour apple, toasted oats, and an impression of an evening walk through a citrus grove in full bloom. This dram leaves with a cereal-heavy finish of medium length. Simple, light, and floral; an intriguing introduction to the Arran Malt.

Uigeadail is antique gold in color. In one of the most enigmatic noses I've experienced, I find drying seaweed, peat, gentle wisps of incense smoke, hints of tar, and the rich scent I would imagine if one poured hot molasses over cool, damp earth. Earthy and primeval. The palate is also complex, with the first taste being a flash of seawater followed by a woody depth; when the sherry tartness kicks in you have to swallow. Further in I taste salted pecan, hints of a Yirgacheffe espresso, a creamy note of smoked cheddar, cacao nib, and caramel. (My wife nails it by noting that it tastes like the sweet, smoky char of a campfire marshmallow.) The finish is briny, pervasive, smoky, and of a most gradual fade; when the burn has finally run its course, an herbaceous, grilled peach aftertaste remains. With a few drops of water, the tar scent is more forward and stewed fruit is added to the bouquet; the palate becomes nuttier and more peat driven, with raisin-like undertones; the aftertaste evolves to sweetly pleasant tobacco ash. This exquisite malt is restorative, clearing the senses at day's end.

Pale golden color; on the nose, intense peat smoke, carrying with it a lovely flowers-by-the-sea sensation (citrus floral?) and polished leather; explosively flavorful — sea salt, pickled herring, seaweed, char, toasted coconut, citrons, caramel cream maybe — and it coats the mouth with a smooth oiliness. The finish is bright, smoky, and quite dry. The aftertaste brings around the malt. Complexity beyond comprehension, but all the more enjoyable. This one is like the patch of clear, soaring sky that interrupts the rain clouds. An outstanding bottle of Scotch.

I'd wanted to try this ever since I passed the distillery and made my way through the heather-dappled Cairngorms on a rainy August afternoon. Sure enough, on the nose is unmistakeable heather, just as it was rumored, with further aromas of wild flowers, lemon curd, a touch of apple cider, and underlying sweet hay. The palate is malty sweet and full of Manuka honey; nutty, hints of shortbread, and slightly smoky towards the back. Finishing simply and warming mildly, this dram is easygoing and summery. Poured at Brocach on Monroe; paired with Brie curds with raspberry peppercorn jam and lobster bisque with rye croutons. More so 3.5 than 3 stars.

The first impression from the nose is of one of my favorite granola recipes—baked with a touch of honey, orange zest, and coconut; the longer it sits the more spiceful it becomes, with a more careful nosing presenting notes of creamy banana and aromatic sweet tobacco. If your nose leads you to believe you're taking a sticky-sweet and spicy sherried malt, the initial taste quickly recalls one's attention to the fact that this is the work of a seaside distillery—I taste notes of musty, sea-sprayed driftwood in addition to the crystallized ginger, more candied orange peel, treacle, and toasted Brazil nuts. The body is tart and wood driven and offers sweet and spicy overtones, being fruitier and less savory than its Springbank kin; this dram sports a hot, drying, and almost eternal finish. The empty decanter smells like the first whiff of fine tobacco, right after popping open the tin.

Pours a spectacular ruby hue; the aroma is unlike any I've ever taken in — plump red wine grapes, clove and other woodland spices, vintage leather, and candied orange peel; the first sip reveals mouthwatering mince pie and soon becomes a tannic burn; as it opens up salted pecans and burnt sugar come to the aid of the pleasantly musty midsection; the finish is violent, as one can expect at 114 proof, but amazingly you are still interacting with the complex palate and the menthol-medicinal aftertaste even five minutes after that initial swallow; this out-of-my-league glass of a rare blend of New Zealand malt and grain is the Ares of the whisk(e)y world — I doubt I'll ever have something so special again. (But if I do I'll add a few drops of water.) Update: With water, the palate is a frontal flood of red fruit and vanilla, while toward the back clove and nutmeg dominate. That bellicose finish is luxurious and woody.