Batch 152

Big and resinous, with a herbal, balsam-like touch to it, alongside light raspberry vinegar, date and walnut. This solidity calls out for a drop or two of water which, when added, amplifies the weight, while adding in some scented spice and a more distinct (and distinctive) orange peel element.

A tight, highly-focused opening with clean acidity and this slightly singed quality before it softens into plump sultana, albeit with some needling heat on the sides. It’s pretty wood-driven, although the water does allow the different elements to resolve themselves better, adding a praline-like sweetness and some almond.

Finally, some light apricot, oak and sweet spice.

From a pretty forceful refill Sherry hoggie. The wood seems to act as a barrier to the distillery character, but in time it calms down (a little).

Wood or distillery? It’s still trying to Figure It Out.

An opening of tight green leaves, a hint of grassiness and (green) apple skin, backed by fresh lychee and a little pineapple ice cream. Things seem set to progress in this gentle, fragrant fashion, but give this some time and Daluaine’s musky, earthy weight comes out alongside the soft fruits. Water increases this more serious, layered quality, adding in a touch of char.

Lightly sweet and sugared, though there are some light tannins and then the typical Dailuaine spread of sweet fruits in the centre of the tongue. Just as things appear to resolve into a deeper, more considered, almost savoury pattern there’s a sudden, intense hit of lemon sherbet. Water adds in drying herbs and some layered, almost savoury depths, playing off the sweet orchard fruits.

Light chocolate.

From a refill hoggie, this has layers of intrigue, adding to the sense that you will never quite fully know Dailuaine.

As sweetly strange as Baby’s Breath.

Less green than the G&M bottling, this sees Dailuaine’s heavy, sultry depths appearing immediately, along with the smell memory of dry, dusty pathways through woodland. Things are never classically heavy, rather there’s the soothing blandness of pear and lychee. Gently heady, it then resolves into musky petrichor and linseed oil. When water is added, there’s just a hint of distillery-driven struck match, wet face flannel and those gentle fruits. Lightly savoury.

Medium-bodied, it starts off quite crisply with ripe, sweetly heavy yellow fruit, then liquorice root balanced by pear, while light citrus adds lift to the back-palate. Heavy, sultry, with good depth. Water gives more energy and and pulls out more of the dustiness, while never losing the soft fruit.

Clean, with good length.

Slightly drier than the G&M, but equally good.

Wandering in the woods in Spring.

The cask has a big say here: cocoa butter, baby lotion, then light banana, Milky Bars, backed with some peanut, a jag of of lime cordial and orange peel. With water there’s hot sawdust/toasty wood that drifts into caramel. In time it goes a bit like Norwegian brown cheese.

A sweet and chewy start, with tangerine and plenty of creamy cask elements, but also considerably spicier, with a slightly mineral edge (though not as saline as many Inchgowers) on the back-palate, and a light apricot element. When water is added, you’ll pick up slightly smoky wood.

Zesty, bright orange juice (with bits).

As engaging and as comfy as a pair of old slippers.

My, my, What Presence for a young ’un.

A lusciously sweet, mature Linkwood that shows light fruit, waxiness, lemon blossom and a light nectarine/flat peach juiciness which is kept in check by a cool creaminess, alongside pear eau-de-vie. Water amplifies this gentle complexity, while also broadening it. In time, there’s some dry birch bark.

Very gentle and calm, with a slow, gentle mouth-filling quality. It needs time for the slightly oily elements to develop, which add further texture to the mid-palate. Orchard fruits and blossom continue to play around this, but the extra time in cask has also added a light touch of waxy rancio (scented candles), bringing a sense of mystery to the layers of pure fruit essence. Water (just a splash) adds to the spread. Gorgeous.

Cloudy apple juice.

A slow and contemplative dram with real complexity. Take your time.

Dreamily wandering into A Clearing.

An oddly dull colour, this opens with a full-on, oxidised (PX-style) Sherried blast: heady and raisined, blueberries cooked in dark maple syrup, thick chocolate pudding and old wood. More oak with water.

An intense Camp coffee (chicory) opening and (perhaps not surprisingly) huge heat, it then leads you into the depths of an old, second-hand bookstore: foxed paper, damp carpet, bloom on leather. Firm, with masses of dried fruit, the jab of fresh acidity towards the end adds to the impression of this being as much a brandy de Jerez as a whisky. Water pulls out the smell of a wine cellar, some dried mulberry and a touch of sweetness in the centre.

Drying, bitter chocolate.

The wood has flogged the energy out of the spirit. There’s the sense of things imploding.

…and we spiral ever further Into the Void.