Bladnoch 2001 22 Canasta Sherry Butt, WB: 256956

One of those also-suitable-for-self-defence-if-the-content-doesn't-taste-good bottles.

Nose: 60min: The flavours flow into the nose as heavy as the glass. Sweet odours of decay with forest floor, while legends about warriors are told. At the bonfire with stick bread and S'More [smɔəɹ] consisting of a piece of melting chocolate and a roasted marshmallow embedded in two graham crackers. The fire is crackling, in the background wild boar are ploughing up the forest floor, truffles, porcini mushrooms, fresh earth and moss. Of course there are stallions nearby, neighing and sweating. Some saddles defy the heat of the fire. 2h: An apple and some chestnuts suffer in the embers. The nose sticks to the glass, doesn't want O2 but only these Xn molecules. A few dates, rum from an old barrel, red wine Chateau Haut Brion 1993, wine becomes cherry-like, grandma has conjured up Black Forest cherry cake with just the right amount of chocolate. The cake is served in an old library, dusty books, old pages full of knowledge, yellowed wisdom exuding the scent of days gone by.

Palate: ---- unable to write, wordless, painless, yet moaning and writhing, marvelling and whispering. The sky opens up, the holy whisky spirit comes over me, for milliseconds I see the big picture, I know things, I see the past and the future and the present. Time stands still. Words find their place again, mould themselves into black sweetened tea, espresso, dark chocolate. Red wine cream with chocolate, chocolate mousse. All kinds of desserts with heavy red wine and dark chocolate. Finish: Simply endless, never-ending. Heavy red wine, Rioja, but old, very old. Sawdust from a cedar mill, a master guitar maker's workshop, old cellos. Yes, that's what old cellos from the Medici era taste like. After 3 hours: cream, a creaminess fills the mouth. Remains of a red wine and chocolate cupcake.

96/100

Solara Speyside Single Malt Scotch Whisky 12, Oloroso sherry octaves, WB: 230117

Light copper yellow or light amber. Solara, which sounds like a science fiction film, indeed proves to be a science fiction of taste poetry.

Nose: A freshness, a sea of freshly picked apricots and peaches, arranged like myriads of stars in a stone fruit galaxy. Alcoholic novae here and there. One star dies, others come to life, like the banana note that emerges from the background. The flavour ignites with a lot of ballyhoo and coconut.  The coconut that you buy on Mallorca on the Platja d'Alcudia and savour in a fresh sea breeze. Maritime notes tickle the nasal wall, caramelised sugar mixes with salt, salt becomes broth, broth turns into apple crumble, crumble crumbles into cough drops. 30 min: The breeze turns into warm late summer air, the air is filled with the scent of sad late-blooming roses mourning the passing of summer and shedding their sweet tears to the setting evening sun. Slowly and tenaciously, like a busy bee conjuring its honey, a last queen sends her army to gather nectar. The scent of hard work, chestnut honey, wafts in the air, joined by wood shavingsand of course stardust. Welcome autumn.

Palate: Wonderfully ripe red apples freshly pressed, some of the seeds obviously didn't make it out of their shells. Phew, must have been a large family. Herbs are added to the juice, how could it be otherwise, lovage, sage, a little rosemary. Grated grapefruit peel completes our fiction. A few drops of water add more sweetness and candied ginger notes.

Finish: Apricot kernels and lots of bitter almonds end this tasting as supernovae. Tannins accompany the farewell into the dark distance, the depths of space - unfathomable and fascinating.

88/100