Penderyn’s Legend is a whisper of fruit on the breeze, a whisky that wears its heart on its sleeve but never tries too hard. Distilled in the Faraday still — unique to Penderyn — this is all about clarity and lightness without losing complexity. It’s youthful, yes, but composed. Like a debut album that already knows its voice.

The nose is bright and breezy — red apple peel, honeysuckle, and a citrus top note that cuts through like morning light. Dig deeper and there’s a crisp barley note, a faint mineral tang, and subtle threads of white peach and melon. There’s also an undertone of vanilla cream and ginger biscuit, like a fruit salad served on a warm scone.

On the palate, it arrives soft, but purposeful. Apple and pear lead the charge, followed by fresh cereal grain and a trace of sugar syrup. It’s remarkably clean, with a textural softness that makes it dangerously drinkable. Mid-palate brings a shimmer of spice — ginger snap, a dash of white pepper, a trace of clove. There’s a moment where the fruit and the oak meet — brief, but balanced.

The finish is precise, slightly drying, with lingering notes of apple skin, light oak, and a suggestion of minerality — like rain on stone. It doesn’t overstay its welcome, but you miss it when it’s gone.

Perfect for a bright afternoon or as a whisky for those who like elegance over intensity. It makes a cracking base for highballs, but it sings loudest on its own.