
December 15, 2025

The Time Warp Sessions, two Longmorns and a quick apéro

Careful now, the 1963 bottled by the Gillies Club in Australia is absolutely legendary and, what’s more, practically unheard of (what you’re saying makes absolutely no sense, S.). So, to ready our palates for this little duo de la muerte, let’s start with a small Christmas apéritif…

Longmorn 17 yo 2007/2024 (46.6%, Delias Whiskyshop and The Whisky Agency, Christmas Series, barrel)

Whoops, perfect for Christmas, granted, though last year’s Christmas, evidently. No matter, let’s not be pedantic… Colour: white wine. Nose: as fresh and fruity as one could wish, bursting with orchard fruits—apple, pear, peach, plum—and the resulting eaux-de-vies made thereof, with touches of gooseberry, mackerel flowers and dandelions. Hints of vanilla and honey in restrained doses, as they should be. Mouth: an exact replica of the nose, down to the tiniest detail, with just a flicker of white pepper to perk things up, and perhaps a few drops of Chardonnay for good measure. It’s simply very good, of course. Finish: similar again, with a medium length and a little cider and honey to round off the ensemble in the aftertaste. Comments: a rather young Speysider, fully natural and unbothered by cosmetics. Very good, naturally.
SGP:641 - 86 points.

Longmorn 28 yo 1996/2025 (54.2%, WhiskyLand, Decadent Drinks, refill hogshead, 155 bottles)

According to the label, there should be pear in this charming little baby, or at least some rare fruit vaguely resembling one. Let’s say somewhere between pear and cucumber (!)… Colour: white wine. Nose: quite simple really, it’s the same whisky, but with eleven more years under its belt. It’s absolutely perfect for spotting the undeniable effects of time, which allow one to move beyond the fruits (still very much present, plus that odd fruit from the label, apparently), and into oils and waxes, with various minty notes as well. I find it all utterly beautiful and, more importantly, extremely subtle and elegant. With water: utterly charming, with a more prominent waxiness. One thinks of Candlekitty—sorry, Clynelish. Mouth (neat): excellent, the same elegant evolution brought about by the extra eleven years, this time with more melon and grapefruit, plus the expected spices, white pepper most notably. With water: the citrus and pepper take the lead, and the whole thing turns nearly refreshing. Finish: rather long, still fresh, with returning notes of mint and honey. You say mint honey? Why not indeed. Comments: a fine beast, subtle and classy, like a 1960s Formula 1 car. The modern ones are more like transgenic woodlice.
SGP:651 - 90 points.

Brace yourselves, the chat’s about to heat up…

Longmorn-Glenlivet 1963/1983 (56.2%, The Gillies Club, Australia, Pure Malt, cask #3445)

There’s a line at the bottom of the label I absolutely adore: “Not for Re-sale”. Just imagine if all the top brass north of Hadrian’s Wall had slapped the same warning—or something similar—on their bottles! Auction houses (we love them all) would have a proper sulk. In any case, the Gillies Club is the stuff of legend, perhaps the first proper malt fan club, passionately devoted to both history and technique. We're talking nearly 50 years ago now, long before the Malt Maniacs or the Plowed Society. Anyway, those legendary enthusiasts selected, among other gems, this little Longmorn, which we already know is going to be fantabulous. Because you see, we already dipped our lips in it a few weeks ago… Colour: walnut stain. Nose: there's something in these old-school sherries that renders you instantly silent (who said good news, eh?). A sort of fusion between distillate and sherry cask that’s almost extinct in modern bottlings. Possibly some very positive OBE? Sultanas, damp pipe tobacco, prunes and ancient armagnac, along with delicate hints of ham, soy sauce, liquorice, mint and every dried fruit you can name. The whole is simply mind-blowing. With water: wafts of old wine cellar, blood oranges, and ancient PX, possibly from a solera started sometime around the 19th century. Mouth (neat): extraordinary. Overripe bananas, old Guyanese rum (think Port Mourant), dark chocolate, venerable Ténarèze, tobacco, figs and dried dates, plus touches of tar and ashes, and—more surprisingly—old Karuizawa. On which note, expect a 24-bottle vertical of never-before-reviewed-by-us Karuizawas here later this year. In short, this Longmorn is as classic as Mozart. With water: touches of chicken broth, truffle, and even a little miso soup. Finish: very long, marvellously dry and bitter, with waves of orange zest dipped in dark chocolate and black pepper oil. We call those orangettes here, and they’re lethal. Comments: absolutely magnificent, a ‘sherry monster’ of intergalactic calibre, but let’s not go on. How many of these bottles are even left?
SGP:662 - 96 points.

(With heartfelt thanks to Emmanuel and Olivier)

Check the index of all Longmorn we've tasted