Color of gasoline.
Nose is a strange mingling of cardboard washed up among seaweed at low tide, some peat and smoke, but with a clean clear rock candy sweetness and maybe, in the back, some fresh melon, all of this riding on a briny, medicinally rubber odor like the smell of that discomforting flesh-colored rubber that was used on quack medical equipment in the ’50s and early ’60s.
The palate is thus a surprise with its oily sweetness, rich tingles and organic richness, but still with a bit of grandma’s medicine cabinet under it all.
The uncloyingly sweet finish of moderate length remains somewhat briny and medicinal but fully pleasures the back and sides of the tongue. All in all, I loved this single malt and found it unique.