Thirty years in oak and not an ounce of bitterness. This is not a whisky chasing trends – it is a masterwork of poise and patience. In the glass, it is antique gold with copper undertones, like the spine of a well-loved first edition.
The nose is soft but layered – waxed apricot, butterscotch, old leather, chamomile, and a whisper of pipe tobacco. There is dried mango, almond brittle, and warm spice that wafts like incense in a stone chapel. Every inhale feels sacred.
The palate begins gentle, then expands – caramelised pear, toffee, orange marmalade, dried coconut, and sandalwood. A complexity born not from showmanship but from time. The texture is silk – effortless, polished. Oak is present but never dominant – it frames, not commands.
Mid-palate you find nuance upon nuance: tea leaf, plum skin, macadamia, and a breath of ancient cellar. The spirit hums with confidence – not trying to impress, just being.
The finish is a soft cascade – fruit, wood, malt, memory. Long, evolving, and haunting. This whisky does not shout its age – it whispers it with every graceful sigh. A dram to sip when you need to remember who you are.
