Oban The Macleans Young Teddy (2023)

Nose

The first impression is unusually familiar. Malty at the core – like opening a box of cereal on a quiet Sunday morning. But before you settle into comfort, complexity kicks in like a double-decker bus to the sinuses: Pear, apricot, mirabelle – bright, juicy, almost crystalline. Caramel reminiscent of soft fudge. Then, a full-on patisserie parade: buttery croissant, biscuit dough, strawberry tartlet – it’s a Parisian brunch on a balcony. A whisper of white tea? Yes. Subtly floral with a delicate astringency.

Taste

The arrival is: creamy, almost viscous. “Indefinably light-fruited” may sound like a cop-out – but it’s the most honest descriptor. Like a beam of light through fog – you sense it, but can’t grasp it. Then comes white pepper, sharp but not harsh. A hint of leather? Maybe. Wet coffee grounds – earthy, dark, damp. Oddly compelling. And just a hint of green tobacco, freshly cut, almost chlorophyllic. A sensory collage that refuses linearity – and yet remains surprisingly balanced.

Finish

The finish is the bridge back to reality – but it doesn’t let you leave easily. There’s good oak, but no bitterness. A little caramel, some honey, and then – cheekily – a salty kiss. Maritime, but not stormy. You sense that a sherry cask was somewhere in the process – but only briefly. Maybe the whisky just waved hello as it passed by. Different? Yes. Bizarre? No. It’s got angles, but no harsh edges.