This dram opens like an old mansion door. Slowly. With weight. In the glass, it glows with a burnished gold hue, like candlelight flickering across antique wallpaper. On the nose, it is decadent yet restrained: golden raisins soaked in warm Sherry, vanilla pods cracked open beside a stack of orange peels and toasted almonds. The American oak influence brings brightness and softness; the European oak adds shadow and spice. It’s a balance of light and dark, comfort and intrigue.

The palate walks the same tightrope. First sip: butterscotch and baked apple. Then it deepens — nutmeg-dusted dates, clove-studded oranges, and sponge cake soaked in oloroso. There's a rounded, luxurious texture that almost coats the mouth like satin, but the structure never sags. Cinnamon and ginger drift in like whispered secrets, adding complexity without drama.

As it fades, the finish lingers like a candle that won't quite extinguish. Oak tannin and sweet spice wrap around a final breath of dried apricot and old library leather. It's the kind of whisky that invites quiet, introspective sipping — the novel you read slowly, savouring each chapter, knowing the author has something deeper to say between the lines.