Seven Single Malts | Various ABV

A Conundrum. Bear With Me.

I don’t want to dwell - I’m good, everyone is good. Christmas is approaching. It’s blowing an absolute hoolie as Storm Bram makes its way northwards, quickly. Windows flex. The hairy bullet whimpers. It’ll pass. Everything will pass.

Whisky isn’t in the best of health right now, not when compared to the previous years. Where sunlit uplands are wistfully remembered, the present-day renders much like a cold overcast dawn after the carnival. I don’t want to dwell on that either because this too shall pass.

Whisky is actually coming back to us - the enthusiast. Which suggests that it was drifting away, but it has always remained by our sides; just some whisky left us. Enthusiasts watched on as powerless witnesses to Diageo, Ian Macleod and other groups striding off upon an odyssey of self-immolation. In the intensifying heat we saw our beloved gateway whiskies, things that introduced us to what whisky could be - staples, meaningful whiskies - lost to the burning glow of greed.

In hindsight, we should be thanking those who chose opportunism over loyalty, who struck the match of premiumisation and held it to their petrol-soaked shirts, combusting themselves. If a product is on fire, it doesn’t matter the source, right?

It was the light from their glowing husks, metaphorical Khom Loi launched in celebration of their own self-reverence and dreams of the upper echelons that illuminated, as they ascended, the gems glistening in the shadows.

The yearning for lost love was soon replaced with digging around for treasure. Finding new loves, in whisky and in people. Realising that a new scene, arguably a more personable scene, had been uncovered in the shimmering wake of the enshittifiers.

The small distilleries producing incredible whisky who set a price and stuck with it, opportunism or tourism be damned, were lauded. The brand ambassadors who shaved through shoe leather on a weekly basis, spreading word of fair whisky at whisky fairs; the punters reacted.

Independent bottlers, suffocating from the sudden restriction of cask supply yet still managing to release exceptional whisky, worked alongside the local and online shops to embrace the new, the alternative and the unique, to get interesting whisky into the facepipes of the excited. Whisky hasn’t really left us at all.

I can picture the pivotal moment where the bobble heads, entrenched inside the lofty lanterns of manufactured lore, swivelled their eyeballs from the heavens to the sea, expecting a trail of folk following in their wake - but finding fresh air and realising, like the Secretary of War surely realised looking outwards at a room full of flat faced five-star Generals, that a grave error of judgement had been made.

As the final tendrils of elevating heat departed the paperless lantern, bare frames now filled with desperate farts descended faster than the Whyte & Mackay from Richard Patterson’s nightly glass preparation. Hello. How are you? Deeply concerned that a lack of parachutes were packed in the sweaty clamour to soar on the wings of gullibility.

Prices are coming down again. The whiskies that disappeared from our perma-shelves and dwindling stashes are coming back into view, and with warnings that the hard ground hasn’t yet been reached, might come back even lower.

Despite all this excitement that whisky prices are resetting, the sight of the sky falling has sounded a warning tone across the entire whisky-sphere. It’s not so much a race to the bottom, but an exercise in the delicate balance of survival - the buying public have stopped buying, not just whisky, but buying everything.

Across my spiderweb of friends and networks, the news is resoundingly grim. It appears that a lot of us are being extra careful right now and not spending on luxury things, like whisky. Cost of living is hitting bigly.

On the one hand it’s worrying: production is ceasing at many distilleries and maltsters on account of demand not meeting the expanded supply (who could’ve predicted that?). Those ripples are working their way steadily outwards to the smaller outfits, independent bottlers and shops too.

If people aren’t buying whisky frequently enough, then the compounding down-stream effect makes everyone’s lives harder. For every boom, there is a bust. On the other hand, if you’re in a position to do so, the shifting landscape of whisky previously unobtainable becoming obtainable will be tantalising; and with the jostle for bottles reduced, it will be a decidedly leisurely time to buy and enjoy new whisky.

*Image taken from Decadent Drinks’ Facebook Page.*

As the premiumised Khom Loi disappeared into the clouds, and the gems were being dug from the impacted earth for scrutiny, a shadowy figure called “Whisky Sponge” stood on the periphery beside a brass framed trunk. Even in the gloom it was evident that the gems inside his trunk were more polished, more sparkling.

Now and then a gem from that trunk, whether it be Whisky, Rum, Cognac or Armagnac, would appear in the wild through tastings at festivals or samples from generous friends, and I’d be intrigued each time. Offered as the whisky exciter’s source of premium aged spirit and, having scant experience, I could only agree.

Before, during and after the boom, this enterprising outfit of caricatured label fame and searing dry wit, appeared to remain unperturbed, unaffected or unwilling to deviate. Steadfast in their dedication to offer the very best independently bottled old and rare whisky there is to be found. Simply asking an access fee commensurate with the age, quality and effort drew much arm flailing, not least from me. “What, expensive old whisky? Get out!”

No bucking to trends. No bending to pressure.

The Decadent Drinks trunk has always been a high bar; from the time when I arrived in whisky, to now, it’s been the brand that I’ve felt has been simultaneously enthusiast aligned and misaligned. I’ve never stepped foot inside their world because it’s always been a confusing entity for me. Despite holding inside that brass trunk their budget whisky bottled under the Equinox & Solstice series, the pitfalls of pricing optics meant that the positioning alongside the gleaming diamonds made me, the average punter, see those bottles like intimated shunkers.

Less than. Grade B to the mainline Grade AAA. Gems that, from a distance looked fine but, up close, were deemed imperfect simply because they sat alongside the ”better” ones. Comparison is the thief of joy and if the choice is between a 19yo Orkney at £180, or a 17yo Teuchter/Tomatin at £70, the questions begin.

The barrier for me, when it comes to Decadent, is that the consensus of independent opinion for their whiskies is scarce, for obvious reasons. Is there a guarantee that buying whisky simply because it’s old, rare and expensive, or in the E&S range’s case, simply because it’s been bottled by Decadent Drinks, will be a sure thing?

The willingness to take a punt on sight-unseen whisky is compounded. There are critical reviews of Decadent Drinks bottlings, don’t get me wrong - Dramface have reviewed most outturns from Decadent Drinks since April 2025 as well as a raft of earlier releases, but always from samples, never full bottles.

Heading into the archives, pretty much all of the Dramface reviews of Decadent Drink bottlings, since day dot, have been from samples. Other review sites, of brief word counts and soaring scores are the same - samples.

The first question appears: are all the people assessing from a critical perspective doing so from samples provided by Decadent Drinks? A quick Google of “Decadent Drinks Review” and sure enough it appears that every review I can find for their whisky ends with “sample provided by…”

That, in and of itself, is troubling me. How can anyone really know any whisky from sample, by any producer, enough to say anything about it other than ”wow!” this is the best whisky I’ve ever tasted” or “it was good” or “it was weird?” If your reputation for whisky is built upon an opinion formed from 30ml, is that enough data for us punters to act upon?

It’s only ever going to be a fleeting moment in time, entirely dependent on when that sample bottle was created, where that sample was enjoyed, what the person had for lunch, or dinner, or breakfast. It‘s a suggestion, rather than a measured perspective garnered from repeated exposure across elongated time. I can’t be the only one that sometimes sips a tried and tested whisky and, at that particular moment, find it weird or uncharacteristic only to come back to it on a different day and find business as usual?

There’s no mitigation with a sample. No spreading opinion over two or three sittings. No living with the whisky week after week, over many moods and ailments, as it adapts to the environment and settles into character. Some whiskies I've bought started shockingly, only to settle after time in the bottle. I would suggest that’s why Dramface is brilliant at what it does - providing measured opinions about whisky from prolonged exposure to the liquid in question.

Piling praise or casting aspersions on whisky from single dram samples, for me, falls into the same category as drinking whisky at festivals - there for the fun of the new and the thrill of fleeting flavour, but the guillotine of worthiness is swift and uncompromising, irrespective of truth, and thus entirely redundant. Decisions have been made in those moments that have resolved as mistakes in hindsight, much the same as sampling whisky from a cask in a warehouse is never as evocative when sipped in isolated observation.

If I were being fair to Decadent Drinks and reviewing on a par with how we normally appraise whisky, I’d buy the raft of bottles to review; but doing so would require complete submission to a Russian oligarch’s whims, and I’m just a bit busy leading up to Christmas.

I say all that considerable waffle to say this: I’ve thought long and hard about Decadent Drinks of late.

I respect and appreciate that receiving any samples from any producer is a privilege and very exciting. The impression of entitlement is gargantuan. Where at all possible we buy our bottles to review, but very occasionally producers do send full bottles in for critical review, understanding that this is how Dramface operates.

To expect Decadent to send in £3,000 worth of whisky to Dramface, for free: each tranche, for critical review by a gaggle of amateurs (except Tyree who is a savant) is, not to put too fine a point on it, obscene. Even if it might cast a light on their work - such that people might very well buy it off the back, that’s just an unrealistic expectation.

Samples are a sticky business and it appears likely they are the only way that anyone of critical voice can reasonably access Decadent’s releases, but without in-depth independent critique, so can anything truly be understood and celebrated as masterful?

The second question appears: who is the audience buying independently bottled £800 whisky regularly? Is it the boots on the ground enthusiasts buying from sample reviews alone? Probably not. Is it flippers? Probably not, and even less likely now that the secondary market is slipping.

Is it the collectors? Where do Decadent Drinks fit into that scene, where the focus is often Official Bottlings and “heritage” releases? Maybe I’m just not the right person to be speaking of such things. I operate in small circles with small budgets. If someone is willing and able to spend several hundreds of pounds on whisky without much reference, then reviews like this are irrelevant anyway.

It would seem, to Chief Doofus here, that Decadent Drinks locate niche whisky, bottle niche whisky, for a niche subset of the niche whisky buying public. Nolan-esque niche. It’s a conundrum I’m certain Decadent Drinks are fully aware of, and who knows, it might not be a conundrum at all. There are obviously punters out there who are buying Decadent Drinks bottles, otherwise they wouldn’t remain in business.

Just because I can’t afford it, doesn’t mean it’s any less important or interesting.

Here I sit, with a sample set of seven drams arranged neatly before me, sent from Decadent Drinks to the Diversion Division inside Dramface Towers.

I’m really quite excited actually, looking at words like “40 year old” and “Ardmore”, amongst many other hefty statements. How lucky am I? The onus is on me to find the truth of it, in this moment. I am sampling these from Perfect Measure glasses cleaned, dried and checked for nefarious scents. None were found.

There’s no excuse to not give it my best shot but I’m apprehensive. Why? Well, aside from the aforementioned sample stance and how singular this experience, good or bad, accurate or loose, it will be; this is whisky for folk who operate leagues above Arran 10. If I look inwardly and truthfully, am I in that place in my whisky journey? Probably not. I’m still in the phase of “this is whisky, right?”

If you buy a bottle from Decadent you are buying the very best money can buy, picked by a peak enthusiast from the oldest stock around, which is why they’re priced as so. There's no grumble there from me - rarity, age and worth go hand in hand, and goodness knows I wish I could afford a great many things, like a hair transplant or new eyeballs. This is undeniably whisky for the elites among us.

One of the folk that established Decadent Drinks is a man who has spent his formative years developing a reputation for being both incredibly astute and knowledgeable in the whisky industry, as well as offering a satirical side through commentating on whisky and the industry via the pseudonym “Whisky Sponge”.

Whisky Sponge pulls no punches and often exposes the farcical side of whisky for us all to enjoy, often where whisky consultation expert Blair Bowman is concerned. Not without reason, mind you, Bowman offers up supportive testimony from the National Geographic on his website:

“Blair Bowman has become the go-to broker for the ultra-rich”.

Different strokes for different folks. Whisky Sponge certainly feels like he belongs with the enthusiast versus the elites, even if Decadent operates in and appeals to a different demographic - some might argue the ultra-rich given some prices of their whisky, but we’ll get to that.

I’ve never spoken with Angus MacRaild aka Whisky Sponge, only heard tales of his exploits through the grapevine. He seems like a lovely, genuine chap. Intense, mind you, but he recognises that his approach to whisky has been formed through the prism of knowledge transferred by elders cast from the dying whistles of the whisky loch, when whisky was weird and interesting; his intrigue circles in the lost. The time capsules.

I have interacted with him, though. I’ve accepted a pour of his whisky at Fife Whisky Festival, where my thrusted glass crumpled Angus’ face in disgust, forcing him to snatch the glass off me and rinse it out before he poured a 1993 Old Rhosdhu, likely the first ever £300+ whisky I tried.

It was simultaneously awkward on my part, for daring to present such rancid glassware; but clever too on his part - he was clearly about to pour whisky that demands purity of vessel, setting the tone for what was to come - special, rare, of incredible interest. That I was barely vertical and cognisant enough to discern such intricacies, like whether any whisky was actually in my glass, is neither here, nor there.

Tone. It’s a bastard. Decadent Drinks say they don’t take life too seriously, yet Angus transmits like a very serious person, who is enveloped in a rarefied echelon of serious whisky one can only dream of. I would faint if I had hands-on access to the stuff Decadent put in bottle, and sifting through their online archive, there’s a lot of whisky about which to be envious.

I’ve watched enough interviews where there’s no hiding his earnest approach to whisky, and witnessed the transition from consultant to bottler, then bottler to producer. Angus is heading up, with Jonny McMillan, ex-bulk buyer for Berry Bros & Rudd, and Aaron Chan, owner of independent bottler Club-Qing, a new distillery in Perthshire called Kythe.

Their sole mission is to produce whisky that’s made in the template of the good old days, the lost ways, the best ways, the risky ways. The Angus MacRaild Mindset has underpinned the approach for Kythe as being uncompromisingly serious:

“Our ethos is to eschew outdated and tired obsessions about yield, efficiency, tourism and standardisation of character. Instead, we favour a ruthlessly ideological process founded in the best ingredients, the right equipment, exacting method, and relentlessly holding ourselves to the standards demonstrated by the greatest bottled distillates from Scotland’s past.”
From Whisky Magazine

It’s mighty stuff, and it’s impossible not to be intrigued by what they ultimately produce. The bar will of course be high, as will the bottle price; inefficient products are the most costly. How Kythe will get around the Health & Safety Executive’s beady eyes to re-introduce outlawed materials, processes or inclusions that may have given these old whiskies some of their defining characteristics, will be exciting. What asbestos?

I suppose you could argue that Angus’ experience as Whisky Sponge, writing for WhiskyFun, the journey into production, and the effort, research and ability that it takes to do so, must surely mean that actually, anything that comes from his Decadent stable will be undeniably excellent and therefore why worry?

Not to be abrupt about it, but it’s one man’s opinion, and goodness. If we were to listen to one man’s opinion and blindly act upon it, we might as well call ourselves the United States of Sponge.

Review 1 of 7

Ardnamurchan 10yo, first-fill sherry hogshead, 55% ABV
£97 - available 21st December 2025

Anyway: the whisky.

I half wondered if I should split these 30ml samples in two, allowing me to bridge each whisky over separate days, you know, to try and mitigate mood; but I have to say the prospect of limiting my ability with even less surface to air ratio makes me shrivel up and die.

So I’m going full hog, through an initial pour of 10ml or thereabouts, thoughts gathered, initial impressions jotted down and then the rest of the sample poured into the glass, for a lengthy final assessment at bottled strength; water will be added, if strictly necessary, to see what it means. A fleeting moment in time; as samples should be.

It’s a puzzle of mixed feelings, as I sit down with quivering pen and clean page to the, as yet, unopened samples. It would’ve been a lot easier for me just to quaff away in private and log it in my wee book for posterity, but I’ve been curious as to the draw of Decadent Drinks for far too long to pass up this opportunity.

Rare and old: two things I am, but have little experience of in whisky. Here we go! We have a Glenfarclas 12yo, Caol Ila 15yo, Balblair 17yo, Pulteney 23yo, Cragganmore 36yo and Ardmore 40yo.

All are unmarked as to what cask or finish they are and I’ll save the reveal until after I’ve sampled them, just for some extra blind naivety. After calibrating my facehole with a very small Glenmorangie 10, I’ll start with something I know and love: 10yo Ardnamurchan.

From Decadent Drinks:

The second-best cask in Ardnamurchan’s warehouse (Connal kept the best). A 2015 first-fill sherry hogshead of heavily peated spirit, bottled after 10 years at a smouldering 55%. The result is dark, rich, and gloriously feral—peat and sherry locked in a brooding embrace. Expect tar, smoked marmalade, root beer, and pine wood over a fat, waxy, umami depth. Long, meaty, and magnificently stormy.

Score: 7/10

**Very Good Indeed.**
***TL;DR***
*10yo Peated Sherry Ardna - hitting all the right notes for the right price*

Nose

Peated bourbs? Peated something. Coastal saltiness, sniffing a bag of sugar. Sweetly floral. Chewy smoke. PX? Cedar. Hints of something astringent, like young Kilkerran. Creamy sour salty. Burning bread. Firework/snuffed match. Gherkins. Calpol. Wee maltiness shining through seaweed. Tidal seashore - smelly. Chalky. Plasticine. Rubber.

Water brings out the maltiness. I prefer it full tempo.

Palate

Big smoky sweet salty. Definitely feels PX on account of the synthetic juiciness and tendency to fall into the tarter red side. Earthy, grounded. Chalky. Souring. Permanent marker. Cranberries. Red fruit compote. Struck match, love it - salty against the sweet.

Water brings a sweetness boost, woody toasted oak and smoke is softened. Souring finish.

Score: 7/10

Review 2 of 7

Glenlitigious 12yo, Equinox & Solstice 2025 Winter Edition, Single first-fill sherry hogshead, 48.5% ABV
£95 - available 21st December 2025 I think.

From Decadent Drinks:

For the Winter 2025 release, we’ve chosen a single first-fill sherry hogshead of Speyside single malt affectionately dubbed Glenlitigious. Filled in 2013 and bottled at 48.5%, it’s rich, darkly fruity, and deeply comforting—a fireside dram for the cold months. Expect layers of marmalade, mulled wine, and spiced brown sugar, with notes of marzipan, leather, and soft winter warmth lingering long into the night.

Score: 6/10

**Good Stuff.**
***TL;DR***
*This is a good, Speyside whisky*

Nose

Superglue. Tart apple cider. Celery. Cherry tunes. Parsley. Jammy dodger. Vanilla laced with apricot jam. Hairspray. Fleeting silage. Carrot soup. Marzipan. Juicy sponge pudding. Dusty. Brandy sauce. Caramel shortcake. Green bell pepper.

Palate

Soaked sponge - honey, pears, apples. Hint of soap. Caramel sauce. Toffee apple. Bit of leather. Syrupy. Souring something - kiwi?

Score: 6/10

Review 3 of 7

Balblair 17yo, First-fill bourbon barrel - 172 bottles, 56.2% ABV
£175 - available 21st December 2025

From Decadent Drinks:

An old-style Balblair from an alternate reality—sweet, luscious, and full of Highland charm. Matured in a first-fill barrel from 2008, it brims with honeyed fruit, vanilla cream soda, gorse, and lemon curd, with a faint coastal lift. Rich and naturally sweet, it glides into a long, floral finish of fruit tea and coconut. A perfect companion to its 23-year-old Pulteney sibling.

Score: 6/10

**Very Good Indeed.**
***TL;DR***
*Pickle juice voyage inside a chip shop*

Nose

Malt vinegar. Salty, vinegary chip shop chips. WTF is that? Stuffing a handful of jelly beans in my face all at once - fruity, sour, tropical, salty, smelly socks, almonds. Citrus. Pickles. White jelly bean. Old Spice. Wet old wood. Lime cordial. Printer toner. Pepper - not fresh. Cut flower stems. Dates. Sour raisin. Honey.

Palate

Jeepers! Old Spice. Floral. Toffee. Vegetal. Pickle juice. Sour orange juice. Fermented tomatoes. Vanilla. Weird finish - pickly, sour, sweet, funky and spicy.

Score: 6/10

Review 4 of 7

Pulteney 23yo, Matured in a refill barrel, 222 bottles | 57.2% ABV
£225 - available 21st December 2025

From Decadent Drinks:

Decadent Drams gets serious with this 23-year-old Pulteney, a vision of an old-school Highland classic from an alternate timeline. Rich, waxy, and coastal, it’s a nourishing winter dram driven by texture and distillate character. Expect mineral depth, citrus brightness, and that unmistakable oily Pulteney freshness; long, chalky, and satisfyingly waxy to the end.

Score: 6/10

**Good Stuff.**
***TL;DR***
*Spirit-forward (hot) and middling sweetness, the 8yo SMWS was similar*

Nose

Bright. Metallic. Runny caramel. Knackered aftershave. Bit of ageing bookcase. Varnished boat deck. Juicy confectionary - not beans or gums. Melon skin. Biscuits - crumbled. Quite spirity - the nose prickles. Faint violets. Lemon syrup. Cloves/pine sap. Something bushy. Synthetic car oil. Oven chips. Lemon fretboard cleaner. Cream cracker.

Palate

Massive. Sweet fruit sponge pudding. Pears and figs. Prickly. Chalk. Coastal element, but not overt. Cough syrup. Souring. Marshmallow sweetness. Flinty. Papery. Grease proof paper. Lemon soap. Jif. Cif. Tart.

Score: 6/10

Review 5 of 7

Caol Ila 15yo, Marriage of a refill barrel and first-fill sherry hogsheads, 266 bottles | 57.1% ABV
£145 - available 21st December 2025

From Decadent Drinks:

The sequel to Art Coooveau: our beloved Cooonicorn returns in full Art Decooo style. A marriage of 2009 refill and 2010 first-fill sherry hogsheads, united for over two years and bottled at 57.1%. Thick, tarry, and gloriously peaty, it clings to the glass like roof felt. Expect salted liquorice, camphor, bacon jam, and seawater over deep sherry sweetness. Long, coastal, umami, and unapologetically smoky.

Score: 7/10

**Very Good Indeed.**
***TL;DR***
*Bright, punchy and packed full of flavour. This is really good, shame about the price.*

Nose

Midnight forest. Smoked meats. Honey glazed smoked ham. Woah! Fish man van - diesel and kippers. Fish juice. Dry. Cold fireplace. Dry soil. Salty chip shop fish paper post eating. Chilli cream sauce. Sweet cedar on the fire - toasty. Stale coffee grounds. Blackcurrent tart with toasted egg white top. Sweet.

Palate

Rubber bands. Cola. Toasted oak - sweet red smoke. Oily, garage motor oil. Cloves. Aniseed (light). Wee bit of richness in a creamy sweet charcoal. Burnt ends.

Score: 7/10

Review 6 of 7

Cragganmore 38yo, Whiskyland Chapter Twenty Four, Matured in a refill hogshead, 158 bottles | 1989 - 2025 | 51.9% ABV
£795 - available 21st December 2025

From Decadent Drinks:

Waxiness is a sacred art in Whiskyland, and no one masters it like Max Wax, the nation’s most devoted custodian of texture and sheen. This 36-year-old Cragganmore, matured its entire life in a refill hogshead, is among his finest works. A luminous fusion of beeswax, honey, pine resin, and camphor, it’s luxuriously textural and warming, with hints of mineral oil and leather.

Score: 7/10

**Very Good Indeed.**
***TL;DR***
*It’s a lovely whisky with lots to unpack, and much going on, but £800?*

Nose

Old bookcase with fruit bowl inside - banana skin. Wet pencil. Tobacco leaf. Green leaves too - herbal. Oil paint. Candied fruit. Wood polish. Opening up now - creamy custard/burnt sugar. Soft pear juice. Fresh pear skin. Salty fern. Leather glove. Sweet leather soap. Wheelspin smoke mixed with race fuel. Hazelnuts. Permanent marker. Car polish. Handful of autumnal ferns. Torn basil.

Palate

Big leather and wood moving to a vibrant, prickling jelly bean sweetness. Waves of dry sour fruit. Cough syrup. Milk chocolate - chocolate limes. Leather again. Ferns on the wind. Bramble pepperiness. Peppery honey. Sour wood.

Score: 7/10

Review 7 of 7

Ardmore 40yo, Whiskyland Chapter Twenty Five, a marriage of 2 refill hogsheads. 247 bottles | 1985 - 2025 | 42.6% ABV
£395 - available 21st December 2025

From Decadent Drinks:

Whiskyland loves a celebration, big birthdays, small birthdays, any excuse really. But 40 years is special. This 1985 Ardmore, discovered by happy accident, felt like fate calling for a grand Whiskyland birthday dram. A marriage of two refill hogsheads, bottled at natural cask strength, it’s soft, peaty, waxy, and gracefully honeyed. Expect fragrant smoke, beeswax, heather honey, and hints of Brora-like farmyard charm.

Score: 8/10

**Something Special.**
***TL;DR***
*Ardmore is singing at 40. A beautiful whisky indeed*

Nose

Oily. Grungy. Old. Bit of foost. Milky - lactic. Old oil paint. Reminiscent of Springbank mixed with Glen Scotia. Dusty old warehouse. Old window frames. Poly bag. Souring milk. Peat smoke on the heathery hills. Aye big Springbank vibes - that weirdness that makes you feel like you’re smelling the walls of the still house. Mandarin peel. Chalky concrete. Weather beaten larch sawed fresh. Petrichor. Oatcake.

Palate

Nose carries through - dirty and grimy. Old car garage. Swarfega. Peatiness is very distant. Old wood. Dry wood. Dark sweetness - close brick walls. Golden syrup. Bag of dolly mixtures. Foam bananas in dark chocolate. Leather moving to plastic tubs. Glen Scotia again. I need more. Mineralic quality - liquid stone or concrete. Melon husk.

Score: 8/10

The Dregs:

I think the word that could cover all these expressions would be “enlightening”. Each little sample held, within, a journey of flavour, and each stood unique with exception of the Pulteney and Cragganmore, which had more in common than I’d have guessed.

In the case of Ardnamurchan it was a comforting familiarity. I’ve had a bit of time with 10yo Ardnamurchan single casks, from Oloroso through PX, Bourbon through peated versions of them all, and this one sits in the upper stage of Ardnamurchan whisky, gloriously flying around punchy, dense, visceral flavour.

Opening the notes from Decadent, there’s no mention of what sherry this is other than it’s a first-fill sherry hogshead, but it renders as PX for me - a bit more of the tart sweetness, the synthetic juiciness that interplays with the coastal, mineral, salty character of Ardnamurchan beautifully. The peat brings an earthy grounding but never commands the floor. An excellent festive dram to enjoy by a fire. £97 is bang on the price for 10yo single cask sherry Ardnamurchan. Great start - 7/10.

On to the Glenlitigious and there’s a lot to unpick. It’s a dance between sopping wet stone fruits and something more zingy - tart fruits, leather, souring. At the ABV presented it’s a really enjoyable dram but there’s not much else grabbing me. But it’s a good whisky. At the time of writing there wasn’t a release note for this bottling, so my guess was that if it was around £80 it might be worth exploring - anything above that, not so much. The just released notes show it’s £95. I think it might remain in the maybe category for pursuit. Not sure. Good stuff 6/10.

Balblair is a distillery I have next to no experience with, no reference points and thus I’m coming at this without any expectation. It’s also not something I’ve ever sought, or heard people recommending. This whisky is an eye-widener.

Starting strong with a big salty vinegar chip shop, leading quickly into a synthetically sweet jelly bean smorgasbord. Then it gets weird, with pickle juice and almonds and printer toner. The whisky walks around the place pointing at flavours before quickly moving on, but overall it’s a big pickly weird one, reminding me of something like a softer Ardnagherkin or something tart - a cask that’s soured before being filled.

Decadent have bottled this at 17 years and their notes on Facebook reveal no mention of anything pickle based or funky - just waves of coconut and lemon curd. First-fill bourbon barrel would indicate that this should be a big vanilla masterpiece, but for me it had way more sharp, sour, vegetable and salty notes. Price asked is £175. This is Good Stuff 6/10.

Next a quick trip to Islay through the Caol Ila 15yo, but I don’t stay long as I’ve reached the point in my evening where I’m starting to drift away from critical thought and more into what music to play, so I leave it. The only tasting note I jot is on the palate - rubber bands. I pack up and go to bed.

A few days later I sit down at 1pm on a Saturday afternoon, as the rain continues to bounce off flexing windows, and pour the last four bottles - the Caol Ila, Pulteney, Cragganmore, and Ardmore. The Cragganmore is first to hit the nose hairs.

This is old bookcases and fresh fruit bowls which, considering the age, feels a lot brighter and more lively than the age would indicate. The wood has a big presence here but doesn’t just resolve as wood, rolling over various tobacco, leafy, fruit skin notes with lots of sweeter, toffee and burnt sugar around the periphery. Leather appears, ferny, like when I walk up the hill and the wind brings a peppery green-ness to the olfactory. Chocolate limes arrive later on and I’m delighted to find some of my favourite sweets.

Decadent wax lyrical about this being a hugely waxy whisky. Wax wax wax, Max Wax and wax. Not sure I felt this way at all, but the price for this whisky, £795, astonishes me. I don’t know how to feel other than absolutely mystified as to what makes this so expensive, other than how old it is. Yes it is interesting and offers much in the way of exploration and opening doors of flavour; but that much?

Age is a number, this is an old single malt, but from an experience perspective, it just didn’t render as an epiphany - which is what I’d need to spend £800. No mention of cask type other than it’s a 1983 refill hogshead. Very Good Indeed 7/10.

Pulteney is next and it walks very close to the Cragganmore weirdly enough, with many similar shared notes. The first sniff immediately reminds me of the “Contrapuntal Complementarities” SMWS bottling from a few years ago. I go and retrieve it from the stash and it’s not even close. The SMWS renders like a wet, smelly cloth. I put it quickly back again.

Lots of melon skin and vegetal notes, as well as some nice sweetness. Papery. But there’s also quite a lot of prickling spice, heat or spirit to contend with, reminding me again of the SMWS bottling, which is 7yo and similar in ABV. You’d expect 23 years in cask to take the edge off that entirely, but not here.

Decadent state this to be a serious whisky offering a rich, distillate-forward and waxy character - all agreed. Fatness and freshness - agreed. The wax thing again. Yeah, this is quite similar to that Cragganmore, albeit less than half as much asked - £225 is a tall price for such a bright, powerful, challenging spirit. Nothing really sings from the glass to capture my heart. It’s good, but not spectacular. Good Stuff 6/10.

Next is the Caol Ila and it’s big and endearing. Waves of smoked sweet meats and honey, fish man vans and diesel engines, fish and chip shop paper pokes and tarts with toasted tops. The rubber bands are absent when I returned the second time. It’s big, creamy, earthy, smoky and in the finish bringing some lovely liquorice and salt.

Decadent reveal this bottling to be a 13yo double-cask marriage that was subsequently left for 2 years to bring it to 15. There are no tasting notes offered, and this was their Facebook post:

“If you’re wondering what this whisky tastes like… don’t. The Cooonicorn told us tasting notes were “bourgeois.” It prefers to communicate flavour telepathically.
All you need to know is this:
It’s big.
It’s dark.
It’s ridiculous.”

Well, it’s all of those things - big and dark, it’s Caol Ila in sherry offered at high ABV and is really quite interesting. I’m sad to find my glass empty. The arguably ridiculous part could be the price asked for 15yo Caol Ila - £145. I’ve tried a bit of Caol Ila in sherry of this vintage and it’s been similarly enjoyable but never excellent. Lots of expected Islay smokiness and sweetness, this Decadent bottling has something more that I want to explore, but the price removes that desire. Very Good Indeed 7/10.

Finally we have the 40yo Ardmore. I really enjoyed this. Oily, grimy, foost, a lot of lactic persuasion that brought to mind Glen Scotia and their inimitable character. Seems like old Ardmore treads similar paths. It’s all old this and old that - paints, wood, windows, bricks, floors and buildings. Some sweet golden syrup and other sweet treats are there too.

Decadent have bottled this in celebration of 40 years of anything, and again it’s a marriage of two casks - again refill hogsheads. Tasting notes are similar, with layered flavours drifting around and the peat taking a back seat. It’s lovely, and I’m wondering when to decant the next 15ml into my glass to best savour the moment.

I love this one and at £395 is half the price of the solid-yet-passable waxy younger Cragganmore, which surprises me. Age is not commensurate with price then, and this one is offering a journey I wish to continue on. 30ml is simply not enough volume to get to grips with the potential depth and width of this bottling. Something Special 8/10.

Going for a walk to consider what this flight of seven whiskies means to me, I am struck by a few things. First of which is the return of the imposter mindset - am I capable enough to be assessing such rare and complex whisky? The jury is still out.

Someone questioned recently whether free whisky makes people lazy - punting out the supplied tasting notes, adding a token gesture of loose opinion and placing the almost full bottle on the backlit shelf. I weighed in stating that anything provided for free for critical assessment sends me down the completely opposite path - my suspicious, wary receptors are cranked up to full.

My effort is in assessing not just the whisky itself but turning a spotlight on the people providing the whisky for assessment - where are they in their journey; what are they offering and why now? Decadent sent these in to Dramface long in advance of the official availability - 21st December for all expressions - so this is advance preview whisky that would likely coincide with the general release. All fairly standard stuff.

Of the seven whiskies I’ve tried from this Decadent outturn, the Ardnamurchan is very good, and I’d suggest anyone on the Glenbeg fun-train would love this expression much like all other very good Ardnamurchan whiskies - it’s bold and punchy, hitting all the right notes for engaging Glenbeg whisky. The Ardmore is excellent and, given it’s 40 years old, is expensive but that seems absolutely fair to me when held in comparison with the other whiskies here for review. If I had £400 knocking around that I didn’t need for anything else, I’d absolutely buy one.

The rest line up as good to very good whiskies, but nothing overt enough to suggest that this is the only time you might be able to experience such whisky. If it’s not blowing doors off, then it asks the third and final question, one I think the most difficult to answer: are Decadent Drinks’ bottlings worth the price asked? Unfortunately it’s complicated and it depends on a multitude of factors: where are you on your journey, what are your preferences, what do you want from your whisky and how much do you have to lose?

I’ve spent the past four years exploring whisky critically through Dramface and I’ve loved every minute, but my range of old bottle experience peaked at a £120 Arran 21yo. I have tried many samples of many old and rare whiskies through generous friend networks, but have always treated those experiences as fleeting moments outside of critical assessment. I’m just not buying old and expensive whisky enough to appraise samples from a purchasing perspective, so as a result the vast majority of Decadent bottles are already invisible to me.

My preference is for impactful flavour experiences, and if a whisky brings a muted experience to the table, or doesn’t resonate with my penchant for bold, sweet ‘n salty red stuff or floral, delicate, fleeting bourbon matured whisky, it’s irrelevant if it’s 38 or 5 years old. Age is not a factor. Flavour against cost is. Celebrating old for old’s sake is not in my wheelhouse.

I want whisky to surprise me, to make me feel like it’s a new experience. I suppose the more you try, the less new experiences you will find, certainly not without frequently diving down extreme paths like old, rare or oddities. It’s the reason I’ve focused on Ardnamurchan as my rabbit-hole, because I can realistically explore the outliers within that one distillery at a budget I can afford. I can’t do it all, so the concept of Decadent Drinks serving up unique experiences across all of whiskydom through their own extensive rabbit-hole diving, is the draw. I’m just not sure if they’ve convinced me enough here.

Lastly, I have much to lose in the way of budget. Had I bought the £795 Cragganmore and experienced through the entire bottle what I experienced in the sample, I’d be sweating bullets. Perhaps as the whisky develops in the bottle the wax character changes into different outfits and it becomes transcendent, but I can’t say.

However, had I bought the Ardnamurchan, or the Ardmore, I’d be delighted because they’ve been flavour experiences I’ve wanted to explore further. When a whisky excites, the price soon falls away. Decadent have bottled, and I’m absolutely certain they have done since inception, brilliant whisky. But it’s just not consistent across this sample set to guarantee that whatever you buy from Decadent, no matter the price, will be money well spent.

I’m not sure if that’s helpful at all, but it’s been really fun delving into the Decadent world for a brief moment.

Tried these? Share your thoughts in the comments below. DC

Thank you kindly to Decadent Drinks for providing the samples.

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