If you have scented markers still, go smell that brown one, and you will have a good idea what this dram is all about.  It is a bit sweet, a bit cinnamon, a bit spice— it is brown.  Brown like a tree, brown like coffee, brown like chocolate, and brown like soil.  If you did not have the fortune to be sniffing scented markers as a child, I feel for you.  I truly do.  Accidentally marking your nose because you got a bit too close to the marker is an important childhood event.

The beautiful layers of malty sweetness and savory peat combine absolutely brilliantly with just a bit of wood spice and sweetness from the Ex-Bourbon cask.  I think some drinkers get absolutely carried away with searching out interesting cask maturations or finishes— and why not, it is fun— but there is a lot to love in a great ex-bourbon cask.  I would hate to think anyone skipped over this bottle thinking the ex-bourbon maturation was a bit plain-jane.  I would hate to think I might do that as well, because I would have missed out on quite the treat.

Lovely viscous body carries waves of vanilla and orange.  It has a malty sweetness with a bit of salt, a bit of ginger, and a bit of holiday cinnamon.  After the sweets on the nose, the body feels remarkably restrained.  Floral notes of rich honey come toward the end.  Another taster put it succinctly, the profile is very “Glenmorangie-y.”

This is everything that I wanted from Ardbeg’s 2019 Drum Committee Release.  It has the lovely bits of tropical fruit, beautifully rich peat notes, and Bruichladdich’s savory barnyard funk to tie it all together.

A butterscotch bomb on the nose, a lemon on the body.  This has to be one of the most disjointed drams I have ever tried.  The nose was amazingly thick and sticky with rich notes… but what happened to the body?  If I blindly smelled this dram and then took a sip, I would think someone had swapped out my glass.

A blend of salty succulent malts, Rock Oyster is easily my favorite in Douglas Laing’s Regional Malts series, and this bottle in particular is probably my favorite >$100 blended malt.  I love the salt, citrus, cream, and faint smoke or char on this.

This was remarkably easy to drink for a dram that packed a real punch.  This was full of malty youthful intensity— it was high heat and intense flavors.  Even before adding a bit of water there was wonderful complexity in spite of the youth.  A few drops tamped down some of the fire and heat and brought out more of the luscious chocolatey oloroso notes.

This would be fun to taste along with the Nikka Coffey Malt, Coffey Grain, and Miyagikyo Single Malt.  So many possible variations from just the one Nikka Distillery at Miyagikyo, a great opportunity to explore the ways in which malt and grain can play together.

Two radically different profiles clash a bit in this bottle— sweet creamy tropical fruits and bitter medicinal herbs.  Occasionally these two faces combined to give the impression of Ricola or another honey herbal cough drop.  The cask seems to be pulling the dram in both directions at once— emphasizing bitter burnt herbs as well as creamy vanilla.

So cheers.  This bottle might not quite be worth the price of admission in my book, but it is the best Bushmills I have ever had by quite some margin.  It has been a joy to sip on during the hot late summer evenings— it has a lovely refreshing quality from the lemony acidity and slight astringency.  I could see someone who really enjoys sweeter Highlands or maybe Lowland triple distilled malts finding this to be quite excellent and probably deciding my grade was way off.

Most of the herbal oomph came on the palate rather than the nose.  The aroma of the dram was balanced between variations on smoke and the promise of savory barbecue and the herbal notes that complimented the fatty meat notes.  The palate offered more of the medicinal side of the dram from which SMWS plucked the code name.  A participant in the tasting proffered that the dram reminded them of ‘dirty bong water’ and the table concurred.  So it was burnt herbs— but maybe not the herb we expected.

This was weird and really unlike any of the other Chichibu I have tried.  I was told that the nose was a bit strange but that the actual body was quite tasty.  I am not sure I agree.  This is one of those drams whose flavor profile was just too wacky for me to really relax with— but weird enough that I could see myself one day craving to try again.

Complex spices roll across the palate; cinnamon, floral peppercorns, coriander, and slightly astringent chamomile tea.  Pastry notes follow shortly offering a lovely hint of lightly roasted coffee or a brûléed sugar topping— it’s a cinnamon roll fresh out of the oven covered in a rich buttercream frosting.

Fire!  Burning tar, a beach bonfire, a chemical fire, an oil lamp— where there is smoke there is fire.  There are bits of corroded batteries— copper, chemical, and smelling a bit of rust.  Lovely meat turning on a spit over an open flame.  The smoke is vaguely salty and chemical, but more than anything it is sinus-clearlingly herbal.

Mellow and restrained, the palate is simple and the body is quite light.  It is an easy drinker— a  nondescript sweetness is backed by just a hint of smoke.  Bits of ginger, orange, and tea give some complexity to the body with just a hint of cocoa near the end.