Hard to pronounce, but easy to understand – straight up Miltonduff from a refill ex-bourbon barrel. Spicy & Dry profile.
Nose: A creamy opening with vanilla custard, crème brulee and panna cotta. Running throughout – redcurrant and gooseberries for sweetness and wet soils and moss adding some earthiness. After a short period of resting, a clay-like alluvialness develops – moist, but still mineral. Water brings out almond paste as well as a range of fabrics – hessian cloth, tanned leather and cotton sheets. Interesting.
Taste: Semi-industrial – polish, engine oil, lubricants and minerality – but without any sense of smoke. The mid-palate offers burnt toffee, leather, hay and some slightly lactic barnyard flavours. The back-palate provides a fruity retreat with cooking apples and homemade scrumpy cider. Reduction takes this whisky much more mainstream, removing the sense of Victorian era advancement for light tropical (mango), cut herbs and buttery pastries – it’s quite nice, and much more ‘normal’.
Finish: Medium and mixing sprightly white wine with dirty minerality and earthiness.
This is one of the strangest Miltonduff’s I’ve ever tasted. Part creamy, part manufacturing sector – intriguing, but at the same time baffling. I can’t see this appealing to all tastes, but at its heart, it’s highly spirit-led and totally idiosyncratic – and that’s what single cask spirits should be all about. Transformed with water to much more conventional composition – whilst I’d not necessarily suggest you buy a whole bottle, this is prime time stuff for tasting during your next visit to the member’s rooms or a partner bar. Challenging.