Six Broras – or nearly – for Whiskyfun's 23rd anniversary


July 28, 2025

WF 23

Six Broras – or nearly – for Whiskyfun's 23rd anniversary

A tasting session with all the slow build-up of a climb up the stairs—if you catch my drift. You’ll see.

So indeed, it is today, 28th July.
Twenty-three years, and a selection of malts that won’t surprise many, but it’s true that tracking down Broras we haven’t already tasted over all these years isn’t exactly easy, especially since they’re inevitably rare bottlings, often very rare. Not that rarity guarantees quality, of course, that goes without saying! So, let’s see what we’ve got. We’ll focus on the ‘gentle’ years – 1981 and 1982 – tasting them in order of increasing strength. By the way, if you haven’t seen it yet, I’ll be trying to host a small Brora and Clynelish tasting at this year’s Whisky Show in London (they’re calling it a “masterclass”, ha), like we did back in… erm, 2010. Blimey, fifteen years…

(Part of the box from a 5-year-old Old Clynelish/Brora, featuring the amusing “extra light” mention, which we’ll come back to shortly...)

Brora 23 yo 1981/2005 (46%, Signatory Vintage, Un-Chillfiltered Collection, refill sherry butt, cask #05/372, 314 bottles)

We’ve always had a soft spot for this Un-Chillfiltered Collection, which brought some rather precious malts within reach of the enthusiast’s wallet, never compromising on quality. Even if a few sister casks of this very one weren’t quite stellar, if memory serves, certainly not superior to their cousins from the same era just across the street up there, though they could resemble them rather a lot. By 1981, Brora’s ‘Islay-style’ years were already history… Colour: straw. Nose: that good old porridge is back, something sorely lacking in most of today’s malts, along with hints of ink, slightly overripe apples, saltpetre and soot, paraffin, hay, and proper farmhouse cider (not that pub-dispensed fizz, mind you) … No peat, or barely any, but a style that already feels bygone, which turns out to be rather moving after all these years. In short, none of that modern jiggery-pokery in these bottlings. Mouth: the sherry cask’s a little more vocal here, bringing along our old chums, aged walnuts and oxidised apples, along green banana, a few touches of bay leaf, a salty tang and a touch of seaside white plonk that, as they say, calls for oysters. Hints of edible flowers too—pansies, borage… Finish: not the longest, slightly dusty and ashy, but lovely and honest, with a salty amontillado-like quality emerging right at the end. Perhaps it’s in the finish that it shines the brightest. Forgot to mention mandarins, which is pretty Clynelish from those years too. Comments: scoring these Broras is becoming rather like trying to rank Jimmy Page, Jimi Hendrix and Jeff Beck. You always end up looking a bit daft, don’t you?
SGP:453 - 88 points.

Brora 23 yo 1981/2005 (46%, Chieftain’s Choice, sherry butt, cask #1514, 846 bottles)

Clearly a proper butt, given the generous outturn! We could almost recycle the remarks made about the SigV UCF for this Chieftain’s Choice by Ian Macleod. By the way, do keep an eye on their old Springbanks at auction now that the air’s a little clearer in that particularly peculiar market. Colour: gold. Nose: the sherry’s more assertive here, so we’re getting walnuts, even sweet mustard, autumn leaves, with a slight metallic touch leading us to paraffin oil, hay once again, fireplace smoke, a lit pipe, more beeswax, then those good old apples, farmhouse cider and wee notes of patchouli. Mouth: very lovely, earthier, fuller-bodied, that was clearly a fine butt. Hints of mandarin peel, wax, even olive oil, a few touches of aged white wine veering towards dry Madeira, then a beautifully Jerez-like interplay of mustard and tobacco, which is quite charming indeed. Finish: becomes increasingly ‘Brora’, one might even be reminded of slightly older vintages such as 1975. Porridge ‘with a nip’ in the aftertaste, which takes us right back to… 1981. Comments: Brora loved sherry, and the feeling was mutual. And perhaps these vintages even needed it, come to think of it.
SGP:564 - 89 points.

Brora 1981/2004 (58.2%, The Dalriada Whisky Co., Modern Masters of Scotland, for Japan, butt, 239 bottles)

The Dalriada Whisky Co. was a now-defunct outfit founded by David Croll. This happens to be one of the bottles I had the hardest time tracking down back in my Brora-hoarding days, would you believe. And yet, I never tasted it until now, though one suspects a ‘SigV’ origin. Just to clarify, the ‘Modern Masters of Scotland’ moniker refers, of course, not to the whisky, but to the painter who illustrated the label. Colour: gold. Nose: we’re actually exceedingly close to the Chieftain’s, with that firm dry sherry profile, walnuts, mustard, dried leaves, garden bonfire smoke, paraffin, soot… Let’s see if a little water stirs things up. With water: hints of braised cabbage, perhaps a touch of sulphur… but indeed, it leans more and more towards spent matches. Mouth (neat): entirely and squarely in the Chieftain’s camp, only cranked up a notch, which manifests in a bolder, more pronounced plug tobacco character. Indeed. With water: bitter chocolate and gunpowder, heading towards salted truffle. In truth, not my favourite. Finish: long, very dry, with an assertive note of gunpowder that shifts into tar and leek. Over-infused lapsang souchong and a leathery new-shoe note in the aftertaste. Comments: reminiscent of those sherried Clynelishes that sometimes also veered into the sulphury zone. To think we bent over backwards to get hold of a bottle!
SGP:475 - 82 points.

Right, no more messing about now…

Brora 13 yo 1982/1995 (60.4%, Cadenhead, Authentic Collection)

One of the earliest Broras, along with that Blackadder version offered at a rather underwhelming 43% vol.; previously, there had only been the SMWS, including the highly lauded 1976 61.1 released as early as 1989. We’d already tasted this 1982 CAD but had never actually penned any notes. Imagine, that was before the dawn of WF! At any rate, high time to put this wrong to rights… Colour: white wine. Nose: absolutely in the style of that era’s output from this series, with rich texture and natural power showing straight away, followed by a rather stunning minerality (wet pebbles, first rain in a big city, so petrichor, limestone) and some slightly underripe exotic fruits, banana skin, then the proverbial Clynelish wax. With water: immediate lift-off! Gorgeous fresh exotic fruits, coriander, Thai basil, beeswax, nectar, pollen, straw smoke… Mouth (neat): it’s like olive oil mixed with grapefruit and freshly cut grass. The octane level is high, mind you. With water: superb, and to be honest, very Clynelish indeed. There were quite a few Clynelishes in the early ’70s that felt rather ‘Brora’, and several Broras from the early ’80s that felt rather ‘Clynelish’. Finish: same story, perfect, saltier. Comments: I suspect that twenty-five years ago or more, I may have tasted this without water, but I honestly don’t recall. As the old joke goes, there are three things I struggle to remember: the whiskies I’ve tasted, people’s names, and the whiskies I’ve tasted.
SGP:565 - 92 points.

Speaking of which, just hold on a sec…

Clynelish 5 yo (43%, OB, Di Chiano, long golden cap, Italy, +/-1970)

Of course we’ve already tasted this little chap with the ‘bulky neck’ and those charming individual yellow cartons (we do love yellow at WF, surely it’ll come back into fashion one day), but here’s a fresh bottle, and what’s more, the label printing is finer than on some others. Yes, I know, any excuse will do in such cases. I believe—though can’t say with absolute certainty—that this is pre-floor maltings decommissioning distillate, so pre-1965. In short, even more so than with the 12-year-olds under the same label, one could argue this is the seminal Old Clynelish/Brora. Colour: white wine. Nose: ink and soot, cold ashes in the hearth of an old bothy, ham fat, apple peelings, motor oil, some new plastics and old books from the cellar or the attic. And an oyster and a langoustine. Mouth: impossibly maritime in purity, yet somehow as fat as a monk. This richness and breadth are spectacular in a five-year-old, just as it was in those old Springbank 5s of the era. But were they really only five years old? A sticky sweet mystery… Anyway, the rest shall remain between this wee one and me. Finish: incredible length, fat, lemon, ashes, soot, seawater, seaweed… Comments: absolutely on par with the 12-year-olds, barring the Giaccone 100° proof versions, which lived in a class of their own. As for the texture, it’s something that’s plainly vanished from virtually all modern malts, no matter their origin.
SGP:462 - 93 points (verging on 94).

What’s really funny is that indeed, on the box of this 5-year-old Clynelish, there’s the mention “EXTRA LIGHT”, which is of course completely at odds with the style of the whisky. But we have to remember that at the time, “light”, just like "smooth", was a huge selling proposition for spirits. In fact, very young age statements, whether genuine or made-up, that is to say lowered on the label, served the same purpose, since the public believed that the older and darker a whisky was, the more full-bodied and rich it would be. It’s worth knowing that some were even artificially decolouring their whiskies. Well that's what we've heard on numerous occasions. As Japanese chefs would say, O tempora, o mores! (yeah like, that's funny, S.)

Angus's Corner
From our correspondent and
skilled taster Angus MacRaild in Scotland

Sadly, I don't have a suitable sparring partner for this Brora, but then again, 23rd birthdays aren't usually that big a deal, are they? Having said that, I think it would be fair to say that, in the case of funny little whisky tasting blogs such as this one, when you've been going strong for twenty years, every extra year is a worthy milestone. Happy birthday, Whiskyfun. And congratulations to Serge. Speaking as someone who now also has two companies to run and a young family, I do not know how you manage to keep the Whiskyfun fires burning day in day out the way you do. The motivating powers of foie gras, Riesling and jazz must be truly formidable...

Brora 25 yo 1977/2002 (56.5%, Scotch Malt Whisky Society 61.12 'Honey, porridge, peat and iodine')
Colour: bright straw. Nose: magnifique! Heather honey cut with sea salt, animal fats, mineral oils, sheep wool, mustard powder, church candles, assorted forest mushrooms, wild garlic and this stunning medley of citrus fruits, seawater, waxed hessian and some very graceful, bone dry peat smoke notes. With water: citrus juices, petrol, greasy toolboxes and more pure waxes and sea salt. Mouth: it's the texture that is so fantastic and impressive. Fully mouthcoating, like slugging petrol that has been centrifuged with pure honeycomb, molten wax and lamp oil. There's also tiger balm, suet, chalky beach pebble vibes and then just getting more and more coastal and saline. With water: a tad softer, some more tantalising glimmers of peat, but it's really not a big peaty Brora, this remains all about the seashore, those stunning waxes, oils, animal fats, umami and that astonishing, mouth-slathering textural quality. Finish: very long, on shellfish, preserved lemon, dried thyme, smoked sea salt and all manner of waxes, petrol and camphor. Comments: I don't taste Brora too often these days, but most times one crosses my path, it's a stark reminder of just what a monolithic and monumental distillate it was (is?). Happy birthday Whiskyfun!
SGP: 463 - 93 points.

And thanks Serge!

So, thank you for your attention! We're starting to think about how we'll celebrate our 25th anniversary in 2027—provided the countless Gods of Spirits let us live that long. Hasta la vista!

(Thank you mucho, KC and Massimo!)

Check the index of all Brora we've tasted so far