Reviews

This whisky has finally clicked for me — and now I really get it. It took me a little while but after i was gifted a second bottle of this i finally started to understand thus whisky - maybe that says more about me than the whisky though..? Nose: Immediate cleanliness. Bright, sharp, almost sherbet-like. There’s a definite grape note — not sweet or ripe, more white or light green grape, fresh and crisp. The longer you sit with it, the more mineral it becomes. Salty, but not briny — more chalky and coastal than maritime. There’s oak, but it stays in the background, sitting around the edges rather than taking over. Palate: Straight in with salt. Clean, precise, and confident. That then moves into a gentle but noticeable ginger spice, followed by crisp green apple. The texture is excellent — rounded without being soft, lively without being sharp. Finish: The salt returns, then the spice comes back again, but this time it’s more oak-driven. It lingers calmly and fades out leaving a fresh, wet green apple note behind. Clean right to the end. Overall: This is a whisky built on spirit quality, not smoke or heavy cask influence. Unpeated Islay done with precision. Mineral, coastal, chalky, and incredibly clean. At 50% it makes total sense — everything is clear, focused, and alive. This bottle has taken time, but now that it’s clicked, it’s outstanding. A proper thinking whisky — and one I’m appreciating more than ever.

I can’t get over how good this whisky is. For under £50, it’s absolutely incredible. Nose: Thick honey and toffee upfront, with rich red fruits and a real sour red wine note that’s just beautiful. There’s subtle spice underneath, and smoke is barely there—just enough for texture. Palate: Fruity upfront, then the spice rises and develops perfectly. Every note ties together beautifully; the red wine influence lingers alongside the honey and toffee, giving a complexity that feels seamless. Thick, punchy, and utterly rewarding. Finish: Long and oak-driven, with gentle spice. The red wine, honey, and toffee all linger, evolving across the finish. Every sip is layered, balanced, and captivating. This is exactly the kind of whisky I love—rich, multi-dimensional, and full of flavor. Honestly, more people should try this; it’s one of the most enjoyable drams I’ve had in a long time. Score: 9.5/10 🥃

Nose: Banana hits immediately when poured, followed by a grapey tanginess that sits alongside a Bunnahabhain-style fruitiness. For a short moment, I detect strawberries. There’s a subtle maritime freshness underlying it all, with just a hint of youthful brightness. Palate: On the tongue, there’s a noticeable saltiness around the sides, balanced by bright, tangy fruit. The body carries that grapey tang and Bunnahabhain-esque dried fruit character, with hints of honey and malt sweetness weaving through. Medium heat, but not harsh. Finish: Medium length, tangy, and quite hot, leaving a lingering saltiness and a refreshing, fruity lift. Overall: I really like this whisky. It hits a sweet spot for me: fruity, tangy, with a touch of coastal saltiness, but never feeling heavy or overly sweet. While not as bold as a big coastal Islay, it’s balanced, approachable, and genuinely enjoyable.

I’ve come back to JW Black after a long time, this time in a Glencairn, and I’m honestly shocked at how much depth it has. The nose opens with sherried sweetness — dried fruits and a faint tang — sitting above a secondary oakiness. Vanilla and honey peek through, and there’s a subtle damp, briny coastal note, with a whisper of peat coming forward as the glass sits. There’s also a grounded, clean earthiness that balances the sweeter elements. On the palate, it’s smooth and clean, with oak and dried fruit leading the way, accompanied by a subtle side-of-the-tongue sweetness. There’s a hint of tanginess towards the finish, which adds a nice lift. The peat, subtle at first, becomes more apparent with successive drams, giving structure and that faint coastal smoke. The mouthfeel is comfortably middle-of-the-road — not thick or thin — perfect for its 40% ABV. The finish is short to medium, warming, and leaves a lingering impression of gentle peat, tang, and sweetness. What surprises me is how much this blend punches above its strength; it feels far richer and more complex than its modest ABV suggests. I can pick out some of the single malts behind the layers — Caol Ila for peat, Highland Park or Cardhu for honey and oak, Glendullan for sherry influence, and the grain whisky for smooth balance. It’s a perfect demonstration of blending as an art, showing how multiple malts combine into something greater than the sum of its parts. At £23 a bottle, it’s an absolute bargain — approachable, layered, and rewarding. I honestly understand now why it’s been a staple on every bar shelf, but in a rocks glass, so much of this subtlety is lost. JW Black is a blend I can return to again and again, and each time it rewards attention.

On the nose it opens with mossy peat and a touch of lemon, carried on a salty sea breeze. There’s a hint of seaweed in there, and sometimes even something like wet charred wood. Beneath it all, just at the very back, a tiny trace of caramel peeks through. On certain nights, a faint medicinal iodine drifts in, but it’s not always present — sometimes it’s front and centre, other times it hides completely. The palate hits immediately with salt, almost like a wave catching you off guard, before quickly moving into sharp lemon. Depending on the night, a touch of smoke comes through here — not always heavy or tarry, sometimes just a gentle ashiness. The iodine can emerge mid-glass, mingling with the citrus and salt, but on other pours it stays in the background. Somewhere in the mix, a little toffee sweetness lingers, never centre stage but enough to round the edges. The finish can be surprisingly short for such a bold whisky — often a flash of lemon and pepper before it’s gone, though the mouthfeel is thicker and oilier than you’d expect for 40%. Some nights it fades into dry ash, others it brightens right at the end, leaving a cleaner, fresher impression than you started with. Laphroaig 10 is never exactly the same from one sitting to the next. One day it’s bright, zesty, and coastal; the next it’s mossy, ashy, and brooding, with iodine swirling through the background. That’s part of its magic — it’s not just a one-dimensional smoke bomb, it’s a dram that shifts with your palate, your mood, and even the weather outside.

Bunnahabhain 12 is a whisky that reveals itself gradually. What might seem initially like a lighter, sherried dram quickly proves to be far more intricate and rewarding upon closer inspection. Once the palate adjusts and becomes comfortable with its higher ABV and dry, structured bitterness, the layers begin to emerge: rich malt, savoury coastal hints, flashes of dark fruit, and a mature, woody spice that feels both rounded and confident. Unlike many Islay malts, there’s no heavy smoke or medicinal iodine to hide behind here—this is a whisky built on balance, texture, and quiet depth. It’s a dram that doesn’t shout for attention but earns respect over time. In that sense, it’s ideal for the seasoned drinker who has developed an appreciation for subtleties—particularly those who enjoy the richness of sherry casks without overwhelming sweetness. With repeated tastings, Bunnahabhain 12 becomes increasingly difficult to overlook. It may not be the boldest or most extroverted whisky in your cabinet, but it might be one of the most complete.

Talisker 10 — My Review From the very first nose, Talisker 10 instantly takes me back to the rugged coast where I grew up. It smells like a musky saltiness — seaweed near a smoked kipper factory — the kind of place where wet dogs shake off sea spray and rain beside salty, mineral-rich rocks. There’s a deep maritime character that’s bracing and alive. On sipping, I get an immediate hit of salt that’s powerful and pure. This quickly starts to mellow into a gentle smokiness — not overwhelming, but perfectly balanced. Then the dram finishes with a lovely musky, peppery warmth that lingers, still loaded with salt. The finish is long, peppery, and keeps the sea breeze alive on my palate. Talisker 10 is beautiful — truly spectacular. It’s a whisky I always want to keep on my shelf. For me, it’s more than just a drink; it’s a sensory connection to Peel, Isle of Man, and memories of walking dogs along the beach in wet weather with the sea air thick around me. The whisky captures the feeling of standing on the breakwater on a cold, windy day — raw, elemental, and alive. Every time I pour a dram, Talisker offers something familiar but never quite the same. It’s complex, evocative, and emotional. It’s not just a whisky; it’s a piece of home in a glass.

This is really underrated. Its a nice deep flavour of dried fruit and sherry cask. You should try this! But give it time. I had to finish half a bottle before i fully got this whisky.