Nose: subtle and discreet, this has candlewax and pouches full of faded dried herbs (distant thyme and oregano), though not pot-pourri. Deeper nosing doubles down on those herbs, and adds a spoonful of vanilla custard. It veers towards metal, with empty tin cans and old cheap cutlery to supplement the (lemon) thyme and dried hawthorn. The second nose is as subtle; a whiff of flowers in a greenhouse, cactuses on a window sill, faded leaves in a planter, and an old sheet of cardboard. Mouth: lukewarm and bitter, this is a herbal infusion drunk from a tin can. Pencil-sharpener blades follow, new razor blades, moving to quarry chippings and street pebbles. It is rather desiccating, and, well, not the most-approachable whisky there is. Chewing reveals its warmth, yet it does not become more welcoming. Warm metal is all. The second sip has grist so dry it may as well be medieval dust, and the bitterness of green hazel leaves. That is somewhat balanced by a minty nut paste that does not fully convince. Finish: the same herbs and metal crash the gob for a second, and, fortunately, open the door to a much more pleasant minty custard, and even some fruits. That turns out to be fleeting, however: soon, bitter tin is all that stays on the tongue, with quarry chippings filling the gaps between the teeth. Gritty. The second gulp is bolder with the minty custard. It is trying to offer a pine-tree freshness, but never gets there. The death sees glossy paper, which anyone who has tried to chew it will know is not exactly delicious. Original, though!
https://theoldmanofhuy.blogspot.com/2025/03/24032025-mystery-sample-6.html
This Finglassie drop is incredibly underrated - honeyed smoothness with the airy smoke and depth of £200 bottles. Will go onto my repeat buys from now on.
Nose: we have a fruity, dry white wine, probably a Riesling, maybe from Chablis, and rubbery green grapes. It is not as rubbery as plastic green grapes, but not too far off either. That is followed by plump white plums, Mirabelle, at a push, then deeper tones: nectarines and damsons hint at blueberries and currants. Stupendously, that is soon almost entirely replaced with subtle smoke, the result of burning orchard wood. Then, we start from the top again, with rubbery fruits making way for sultanas and fresh crayons. The second nose is more enticing, with more plums, nectarines, and blueberries, juicier with every sniff. Mouth: ooh! This is dry and bitter, quite mineral. If still a tad rubbery, the grapes are now Chenin Blanc, sixteen grapes to the juice drop, and they come with an earthiness that tOMoH did not expect. Crayon shavings -- older crayons, which means they are dry-ish. It is pleasant on the palate, not thick, while not watery either. The second sip feels fuller, thicker, and closer to fruit juice. If they make nectarine juice, this is close to it (and if they do not, why not?) Chewing adds fruits, namely darker plums and even tangerines, the latter sweet enough to be close to fruit jellies. Finish: pure crayon with a horseradish kick. Black, brown, or purple crayons, earthy, rubbery, vaguely fruity. That fruit is now desiccated plum peels, or nectarine skins. It sticks to the top of the gob, despite not feeling long or big. Just a pleasant warmth, as well as a distant bitterness -- that of fruit foliage, it appears. The second gulp does not deviates much. It does occupy a wider space with repeated sipping, as one may expect, and offers chewy crayons at the death.
https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/preview/8571904452477565955/8787751697205740375