Batch 222

It arrives in graceful and calm mood with a mature, oxidised beeswax and tropical fruit accent that aligns it with old Convalmores, though here there’s more apple and a tiny hint of woodsmoke. Soon there’s big hits of vetiver, cedar and tonka. As it opens so it deepens into light oak and sweet dried fruits all the time flirting with savouriness. Water – a drop is all that’s needed – makes things more lifted without losing any of the complex, mature element, while adding in bergamot and old apple barrel. Really glorious.

Lighter than the nose suggests and slightly drier too. Notes of dried lavender, some herbal elements and a little dusty as it begins to show its age. That said, there’s still some resinous elements, a light balsamic touch, raspberry and more of that light smoke.

Drying and short.

The nose is stunning, though after 50 years, things are inevitably becoming a little more fragile.

That aroma… you get Carried Away.

Rich amber (all natural colour) with a smokiness from the start that’s linked to roasted barley notes and chocolate, balanced by concentrated peachy fruit. Seems weighty and rounded with a slight earthiness in the background, dying embers, a hint of chicory coffee and light tangerine. As it develops, so things become sweeter with candied peels bringing a calming influence. Light dilution brings out marmalade, coffee and woodsmoke.

Has a soft start before a rich ball of cacao and espresso fills the mouth. This then leads into a gently sweet mid-palate all bound together by the smoke. Big and quite bold, but balanced.

Long, lightly smoked, but sweet.

Cù Bòcan, aged separately in Black Isle Imperial Stout and Bacalhôa Moscatel de Setúbal casks, then blended. It could seem gimmicky, but it works and is even exemplary – the stout linking to the smoke while the Setúbal gives a necessary balance. Well worth seeking out.

Orthodoxy? Ripped & Torn.

It’s remarkable how some smells are textural – and this is one of those. There’s a whisper of smoke here but what comes out first is a soft rounded mellowness with soft pear, green apple and lychee, given lift by bright citric elements coming through. There’s a tiny amount of spice and, in time, a light pine/larch note which gives a fresh green element to the mix. Water picks up on this before everything relaxes into warm hazelnut oil.

As the nose has already told us, texture is key here. The pear is there, but things become much sweeter, creamy and concentrated in the middle of the tongue. Soft, silky, sweet, with balanced smoke. This is an exercise in restraint and really rather fine.

Smoked pear.

If a blend of stout and Setúbal seems out there, imagine ageing a whisky in shochu casks, then blending them with the same whisky in virgin oak. That’s what’s happened here and, again, it works a treat. The shochu gives the texture, the virgin oak some sweetness and spice, but isn’t as aggressive as it can be. Check it out.

Whisky as Sensation.

Thick, sweet and quite sticky, with syrups oozing from a rhubarb (maybe plum) crumble. Remains sweet with honey and metheglin, peach tart, then a tayberry-like fruit, ripe apple, orange or osmanthus and finally a drowsy hint of jasmine. Water reduces the thickness and brings out peach skin fragrance, redcurrant jelly and quince.

Very sweet, with those juices now showing a darker edge: blackberry, medjool date, melting chocolate. Chewy, but there’s enough structure to stop any flabbiness creeping in.

Light raspberry and chocolate.

A fruit bomb. Grab one next time you are flying.

How Sweet It Is.

Classic Glenmorangie passionfruit alongside some chamomile, tarte tatin, kumquat and a little touch of Jaffa cake (orange and chocolate for those of you not lucky enough to have tried them) and light honey. There’s oak notes, even a touch of char, overall dry and lightly crisp. Water brings the citrus more into focus, along with the oak.

Soft and quite light. There’s some chalkiness in the centre that’s reminiscent of freshly-starched laundry which sets itself opposite the slightly floral top note. Best having water on the side, for it brings in more of the charred oak.

Banana bread and peach, then crisps up.

Understated compared to Accord. It’s ’morangie in quiet guise.

A moment for Quiet Music.

Smoky Glenmo? Why not. This starts quite funky with a slight cabbage, singed bubble and squeak note and some earthiness, alongside angelica root and horseradish. Water helps to sweeten things up, adding cooked apple and some Brazil nut, while the smoke is now more bonfire-like.

Less confrontational, with a maltier element than you are used to with Glenmorangie which takes it into, oddly, genever territory (a Netherlands liquor, albeit one with peat added). It has the effect of a comfortable old woollen jumper. There’s some nuttiness, still the rooty elements and while there is some of the vegetal aspect, it is more controlled. Water sweetens things up – the smoke now rising from green sticks before balancing sweetly on the back palate.

Light smoke.

Genever? Try with ginger ale or as a Martinez. Bet it works.

They Came From The North bearing confusing news.