Batch 105

Smacks you around the nose with a mix of stinky washed rind cheese, and asafoetida funkiness. Heavy spirit with tannery elements and this sulphurous belch. Water calms things down and brings out an agave-like element – raicilla for those who know such things. It’s, er, very Ben Nevis, with little cask. 

Much less pungent. In fact, there’s an oily smoothness which is just disrupted a little by the alcohol. There are flavours of sawdust and butcher’s shop. The sulphur has pretty much gone, but there’s not quite enough from the cask to add another dimension.

Oily and leathery again. 

Exhibits that fascinating effect of smelling something which should be off-putting (smelly cheese, stinky tofu), but which on tasting is rather pleasing. The only issue here is the lack of cask influence. 

Peeling your sock off after hiking 30 miles through a bog.

There’s a touch of rancio from the off: passion fruit, crystallised ginger and then a mix of old and semi-dried soft fruits. A breezy minerality then begins to pick up, alongside waxiness, mint and verbena. Really complex and showing classic relaxed maturation. Water adds a further layer of orchard fruits.

A sweet start. For a second it’s less effusive than the concentration seen on the nose, but by the time it’s in the middle of the mouth there’s a huge retronasal mix of spice and a savoury, baked fruit element that pulls towards crème brûlée, roast pineapple. Elegant and supple. Water increases the thickness and also brings out a new spiciness.

Long and layered. 

As good a Bunna’ as I’ve had in ages. Quite a start for this new bottler.

Nebulous nearnesses, mangoes, pomegranates and planes. It’s the ISB again... 

Huge colour and a thick spread of cocoa/shea butter from the off, along with wood oils, then set honey. It's all about the rambunctious oak. There’s more of the same with water, alongside flat Lucozade, barley sugar and, in time, Starbucks coffee beans and char.

Big, sweet and thick with a massive chocolate/praline hit and tiny touch of baked fruit in the centre. Chewy, with some sticky toffee pudding and chocolate orange. The oak comes through more assertively with water.

Chocolate. Tight though, and firm.

A lot of fun, but not complex. Instead it’s wood-dominated.

As eager to please as a spaniel.

Slightly hot to start, but there’s a grassy sweetness alongside ripe pear and canteloupe melon, with added, lightly caramelised apricot and balanced oak. In time there’s Calvados notes, a tiny touch of currant leaf, then quince. More oakiness comes out with water, along with soft fruits and polished brass.

Sweet, with light barley and a little heat in the middle. Gooseberry jam and apricot integrate well alongside lavender. Water calms the heat, adding more gently luscious layers. Rather delicious.

Aromatic, long and surprisingly thick.

A certain refinement.

A spring walk in Normandy.

Creamily buttery, with a light, leafy green edge, some dry spice and then pineapple, Williams pear, and fruit eau-de-vie. Becomes increasingly floral and scented: osmanthus and daylily. With water you get the same progression from butter to fragrance.

Soft, yet precise. The mid-palate is all gentle elderflower blossom. Give it time as it grows ever more pleasing. I’d probably have it neat as you lose that clarity and definition when you dilute.

Kiwi fruits. Tingling.

Subtle, balanced. Lovely.

Deceptively light, but complex. Cue Tracey Thorn.

Rich, ripe and dried fruits, with sweet leather (Dunhill store) and a touch of heat. Things move towards sultana and dried strawberry, but you do have to work at it. In time, there’s some heavier, mature oak and cigar. When water is added there’s cacao, and a heather moor dryness.

Much thicker and slightly more expressive. Some chewy depth, blackberry jam/stewed plum/pomegranate molasses, but the heat detracts from this. Water softens things and adds to the rich, Demerara-like sweetness in the middle of the tongue. 

Tobacco. Short.

A good dram, just lacking a little length.

Being ushered into Don Corleone’s office.