It was still aligned with normality when strawberry Starburst and buttery were observed (or obnosed), but then we got a bit abstract: an isolated pond, 'quite sorry like campers' (?), a man peeing on a night out ("Sheila 2014") and deep-fried pig rectum (!)..

The nosings spread out a little bit into a plethora of nature's best offerings: plants and herbs (oniony fennel, coriander leaves, licorice and coffee), more tangy offerings (orange zest, aniseed, paprika and pepper) and some nice locations (a pebble beach with a fire, The W...

It's definitely rubbery but also really sweet (brown sugar), creamy (cream soda, butter) and peppery (er.. pepper). "What do cymbals smell like?" ("cymbolic?" - it's no longer clear how well this joke went down..). In fact, it smells of cymbal cleaner - the drummers in the a...

Like cruising through city streets in the summer (verging on the edge of regret) the taste of warm tar and worn leather merges with a strong theme of burnt food: sugar, soda bread and toast with marmalade.

Upon savouring, it’s a wet monkey rolling around in treacle and elderflower winning a watch in a raffle and wait, what’s this? yep, it’s political uncertainty and pineapple – who’d have thunk it?

This has a powerful, aromatic capriciousness (best taken orally) but still has a whiff of an unfinished PowerPoint, which Ali was convinced had something to do with The Pelican Brief and the taste of his school pal Nick Marsh.

On the way, a whale has carelessly left its blubber to filter up the nose, perhaps helping to fertilise the landscape, as first nettles and then geraniums flourish.

Something really interesting going on here - a mad mix of spices and old wood. Oniony. Lychees. Something a bit chinese going on. Tom yum soup.

In some kind of mad banana-fuelled rage, he storms out the room, picks up his damp laundry and coffee cake and runs off into the chorizo horizon.

Yeah it's woody, it's the painful nectar of the gods, it's glacier mints, black jacks, fig rolls, and crunchie bars.

It was so farmy, that we wrote down 'FARMY!!!' to make the point unforgettable. Damp hay and silage emphasised the point, and 'slaaaaag' was mentioned, said like a lady who partakes in many men, but perhaps referencing a pile of quarry soilings?

From the sawmills to the farmyard, with undertones of burning turf and old leather, it’s stylishly unrefined. And for those dessert enthusiasts, there’s even a dollop of molasses in there to sweeten the deal.

Islay isn't particularly famous for its cake, but that might be as they've put all their useful ingredients into the nose of this peaty offering: cinnamon, prunes, lots of marzipan, almonds, vanilla, apples and Christmas itself.

Sour like green apples and the last salty vinegar strokes of a final fatal asphyxiwank, in a flat meticulously cleaned in preparation for said act, mingled with the tang of the lemon that he failed to bite down upon at the crucial moment (every day’s a school day!). ...

If i were going to stick any firework up my arse, it would be a roman candle - so it looks like you're pooping fire

Sweetness came in in the form of a Flake, some fudge, a donut and a dank, old cupboard in a hospital. Actually, scatch that last one…

It was deemed a morning whisky, or breakfast dram, with many attendant caveats. And finally, the sense of something intangible, call it "rhrhyrhtrtgrtg", if you will.

A new wooden snare (the excitement of Hamish receiving a new snare; imagine winning it for £1 on ebay!), WHISKY! burnt sugar, Omar Sharif, stewed cherries, Jack Spaniels, orange blossom & mahogany.

It’s foosty, like an old Scout Patrol tent or a wool tie from a charity shop. There are also notes of syrup, burnt jam and perhaps a meaty flavour? It’s going to be 'ham-azing' to taste..!

If there was ever a whisky whose nose was no indication of what was to come in the palate, then here it is. It's like a nasal ninja, popping up your nose and lieing to your face.

Pepper spray and chilis start the emergency, with burnt sugared-apple and burnt birch bark hampering the rescue efforts - once inside, the air is still tingly and a smell of vinegar lingers.

The tastes on the finish mostly strayed towards the savoury end of the palate, with mild chili pepper, cinnamon, taco spice, salted peanuts and sun-dried tomatoes. Sherbert and melon came along to the party in the mouth, but no one could remember if they were invited - they ...

'Salted almonds'. As far as openings go, in an olfactory game of chess, that truly was a Grob's Attack. So much so, that it was immediately declared to be 'wrong'. But foolhardy he or she who dismisses the Swiss International Master Henri Grob..

This does justice to soothing the remnants of last night’s spontaneous soiree. An interesting mix of cider, sherry and apple sourz chasers served with green olives.

Oranges, orange rind, pith..."What a pithy comment" - Phil (no one laughs). "Says a guy who chases his whisky with milk" - Christina (people laugh). "Another pithy comment!" - Ali L (reaction unrecorded).

Apricots are squabbling with the ripe bananas while the fruit salad looks on in horror at the remains of the raspberry dripping off the blades of a blender. You can almost literally smell the unmistakable smell of the brains of one of the Californian raisins from the adverts...

We're saying medium, but on the short side like Steffi Graf serving on a 15 mile tennis court. It's spicy or maybe popping candy as it dissipates, the sweetness of marshmallows sneaking in towards the end.

A rich, earthy flavour with the windswept reminiscence of moorland walks with a grouse. The breeze brings thoughts of seasalt, lavender and highland pastures; a blade of grass clenched between milk teeth.

The flames have died down, now it's like chocolate. It's got a creamy yeah (a creamy yeah), yeah. Yeah. Yeah yeah yeah. Are you recording this? If it smells like velvet, it tastes like corduroy. I really wish I had a cigar right now.

Intensity-wise, it's a spirited kick up the goolies and a spicy punch in the nose (schnozbob) - a double-dose of white wine and then a sprinkle of garlic.

A little heavy on dessert but we'll catch a salty mackerel and sit on summer straw bails to eat it before washing with coal tar soap.

When a whisky is described as 'nail varnish and farty figs', 'goaty' 'cream candy (co)ca(i)ne' and 'expelled air from a bouncy castle', you know it's at least interesting. Oh, and 'figgy piggy' / 'hamnanas & rumtanas' on the taste. Intriguing..

Six billion. The population of the world if you perform a 'Chinese takeaway', that is for some inexplicable reason don't count the population of China. And round up. It tastes of Chinese takeaway, is what I'm trying to say.

"Oh boy! Empire biscuits!", yelped an intolerable Victorian child, as the HMS Dandelion & Burdock began to dock. A hive of activity erupted from deck as smells of sweetened sawdust morphed into that of a barn in summer for those with an imagination powerful enough to transmo...

Dry sherry, 'cherry sherry', "a beautiful Highland landscape" (sarcasm), heathery sheep-turds (sarcasm?), Chupa Chups and toffee.

Some fondly remembered encounters of uncloven animals chewing on some grass. For others, it is trip to France for some Tarte Tatin covered in custard.

Some unusual nosing techniques attempted here (giving the unusual category of 'taste on the eye', conclusion: sting-y), and someone said "the biggest fucking joke in the whisky club", we're virtually "100% farm" sure this wasn't meant negatively towards the nose, but who kno...

Things get pretty savoury - toast with English mustard, watercress, paprika, raw onion and crisp-baked tatties. The leather on the nose expands into fusty linen, rubber and cowboy boots.

In a sort of mad festive disaster, the Christmas pudding meets glue and hot tyres on a Formula 1 track, whilst the Quality Street get covered in coffee cream and lavender.

More creaminess. Shortbread. Oh yes, a classic HP. Subtle background of fruit. Exotic fruits! MANGO! PASSIONFRUIT! A bit sickly. Agree with passion fruit but killed by cream.

Then chili, cloves and lots of wasabi hit with some salt (from the South China Sea as well as good ol' rocks) and salted whale blubber (for research purposes only) as well as the feeling of internal public space.

A short-to-medium finish, described by one as, "the length of time between New Zealand winning the 2011 Rugby World cup and their next World Cup win" - 4 years as it turned out. This was then qualified as "in the context of Rugby World Cups, as short as could possibly be" (p...

'Touch Tackie!' - If I recall correctly, it was the hazy summer of 1996 when Brandy released her worldwide smash, Toffifee & Milo. Well, actually it wasn't, was it? But we did indeed get 'brandy' with those two.

The sweetness on the nose came back to haunt us like a J-horror spirit-child slipping on honey and falling head first into a banoffee pie (in a scary way).

Liquorice, marshmallows and jelly oranges bring some childishness to the sweet class, whilst flambéed Christmas pudding, boozy carrot cake, cinnamon swirls and vanilla ice cream and even some acidic cheese escalate the post-dinner madness with an unexpected pudding course....

To round off the evening a leisurely smoke with pipes packed with dark shag tobacco. It’s the smell of a well-stocked pantry, where hungry midnight explorers stumble across left-over pizza.

Zimbabwean mint & lamb crisps take us in an unusual direction before we're redirected to herbs and freshly cut grass. Roast pork and yoghurt sounds like a tasty dish, but it's all washed down with evil gingerbread!

Apple strudel. Superglue. Molten syrup. Ail varnish remover, games workshop's own-branded superglue

The length seems somewhat hard to pin down, somewhere between being inside the 6-yard box to lost in the opposition half - most agree it's medium. The aftertaste brings a fair bit of salt, with much more fruit than before: melon, sour apples, lemon and aniseed.

A really intriguing taste with exotic origins: onion bhajis with yoghurt dip, lemon rind, Eat Me dates (the hottest kind..?), cardamom, cheesy curry. Then things got a bit sweeter to nicely balance the exotica - pineapple juice (and Hamish's terrible joke...now forgotten), p...

There's more bite on the mouth than on the nose, with sea salt, peat, kippers and a medicinal impact all featuring. There are still fruity vibes though, mainly lime, strawberry and vanilla and a sweetness comes through with syrup and thoughts of a heather meadow.

With Russell's declaration that he went to an amateur wrestling match ringing in our ears, we cracked on with the smells. The result reads like a shopping list for the dessert menu of an ailing restaurant, whose chef is unable to see the difference between wackiness for its ...

Pop this under yo schnozzer and it's immediately festival time, one where you hang around by the sea, breathe in the coastal air, have a BBQ with some seagulls and get beaten to death by a peat fire!

Gob-stopping sweetness; Cherry Coke, cream soda and apricot jam but with the sour ending of the last sugary key lurking at the bottom of a packet of Tangfastics.

What? You’re back with that leather satchel? It’s Saturday night and the school discos in full swing (a lingering sense of cheesy 70s DJs).

It's the snack counter at York's famous cinema conversion project - as we pass the fire-hardened 13th century oak door we move on to the mixture of sweet and salty popcorn.

With the first taste the sea rushes up and smacks you in the palate, bam! The salty taste is like a cheeky lick of a dolphin or a freshly landed Arbroath Smokie.

You're having a porky barbecue with ribs, except that guy you didn't want to come came and the pork he brought was oldand he got some cheesy maple syrup from Pizza One Pancake Too in Norwich and insisted that everyone try his candied Kerosene and medicine-flavoured ice-cream...

You'd think any tasting review that starts with "like lava at Mount Fugu!" would be firmly put in its place for terrible cultural mismatching, but I'm pretty sure this 'error' was intended - it was hot, fiery and there was a small chance of a poisonous death, but if you trea...

After a few more sniffs it appeared to conjure deeper, more sentimental, notes of girl’s plastic toys (‘My little Pony’ to be exact), old lady perfume (controversially 43+ years), the Chinese fan on Shelley’s wall, Windolene and for those amongst us who obviously had a more...

Unripe stewed rhubarb, post-cocaine back-nose dribble (hints of), rosewater, sweet fresh oak, a distant chemical toilet, feijoa (A made-up fruit from NZ)..

Quite light... "it's not an unpleasant thing to put in your mouth though, right?". [bagpipes are drowning us out...] Phil describes bagpipes as "an audible version of a headache". Ooga booga booga!

Japanese crabs, tumbledriers and 'accidentally snorting orange juice' provided a summary that's pretty darn hard to interpret. Add to that acetone, eucalyptus and oesophageal burn and you're getting a gnat's breath closer to perception, but sherry came through at the end to ...

Imagine you've successfully crossed a bee with a dragon and this creature produces large quantities of honey and also breathes fire. Any given day you have a 50:50 probability of being burnt or grabbing some of the honey he's produced.

We seemed to agree on a hot / sweet flavours here – honey petals (?), spicy cayenne, raisins & bananas, breakfast Weetabix, tart tatin, and deception.

Woody, cheesy with Jalapenos and a coastal sea air wafting in bringing metallic iron to an empty hipflash.

Your tongue tingles with this one - imagine grating black pepper onto your tongue, or as one put it, 'ant blood'.

You've been sent to a hospital by the sea with the unfortunate condition of having caramelised your bananas. After the decent run of medical science, it transpired in the late 2020s that actually herbal medicine and alternative therapies were correct, and they swiftly replac...

There are memories of the Jorvik Museum, nasty sea water, damp swamps, a used griddle and dunking your head in the river – we all hold those dear.

Lovely cinnamon, cardamom, vanilla custard on rhubarb crumble. Or maybe it’s actually like arse hair in a car mechanic’s workshop. Can’t decide.

Yikes, well now the party's started - it's a full-mooner, and there's a raging inferno of wasp stings, curry leaves, beef sherbet, Kendal mint cake and jalapeno peppers (stuffed with cheese for good measure) . And just in case you weren't convinced of its strength, someone i...

That creaminess gives way to a wee spiciness expressed by chili, chili jam and cloves whilst a fruity stalker creeps in butt-naked, coated in elderflower cordial, raisins and grapes (to hide any embarrassment).

I don't know what 'distilled grass' is, but if it were a real thing, it would smell like this - but also haggis.

Cigar lounge whisky, Gary Lineker's Sex Face (potential for a band name right there) and metallic (but not Metallica).

Watch me drizzle honey all over my lemon, as I slowly unpeel my banana and undress this orange with my teeth. Take a freshly fucked pineapple and cocoNuts and voila – it’s a Penis Colada.

As the once majestic engine chugs into the station, it begins to reveal its cargo of the world’s exotica: Macadamia nuts, sultanas, fermenting papaya (it was a long journey), under-ripe mashed banana (or not long enough, but bumpy – no Pendolinos here), pickled lemons (final...

There is a whiff of recently prepared surgical tools but also a floral fruitiness with pineapple, apple (granny Smith to be precise!), cherry pie, lemon (rudely shouted at that) and bluebells feed to a halibut?!

Before battle, the two teams feast on sweet treats of honey, Cointreau, honeycomb, molasses and Crunchie bars. Once the fighting is over, the wounds are carefully washed with a little rose water and patched up with some plasters... who knows who the victor was, it's a fictio...

But, oh no! What's this? It's only Inappropriate Culturally-mis-matching Pudding Man! "I see you're enjoying a nice Japanese bath! Here, have some crème caramel and Christmas pudding, you idiot!". He then faded into the steamy evening, with only the slowly receding clip-clop...

It's like waking up to some horrific morning after a party - a salty Ginster's pasty, charcoal, post vomit mouthwash, Andrew's salts, flat coke and something undefinable mushy and unpleasant.

"It's unclear whether the latter was simply a reference to the length of nail that the pneumatic drilling would be sensibly combined with, or a clever twist on the the band 9 Inch Nails, and this was in fact suggesting this whisky was like pneumatic drilling on a stage for w...

Pear and almond tart hanging off a beech hedge over a sea cliff. Tasty treats and lethal peril.

I have a soft spot for dark wood.

There’s also a subtle earthiness with moss, hay and apple wood (the wood not the cheese)…not sure if I should mention “the blood soaked teddy on a damp fire place�...maybe he meant iron and damp earth?

On the finish - a resonance of smoke rings (stolen from another) and a coal shuttle but also a contrasting freshness of fir, caraway, heather and mint. The taste lingers but not as much as you might expect.

A Hungarian walks out of a smokey yurt having eaten a goulash (peppery and paprika), through the mossy earth and plunges into a dodgy lagoon full of snakes and crabs

Hmm, this is a young whisky, but does that explain the whiff of teenage boys’ aftershave? Oh no, I see, it’s just Chad Kroeger, munching on a mars bar.

Icelandic wood then shifts us towards white wine vinegar and cloves, with basil sitting out there on its herby lonesome (who incidentally sounds like a 50s blues singer)

We seem to have got pretty brand-focused smelling this, think we sent our corporate wing over by mistake: good varnish (like Ronseal), polycement, dried coriander, rubbish Turps, metal, Toffiffees, Chewits, OWLS, Playdough.

I’m sat in the saloon, saw dust on the floor, chewin’ tobacco, sipping on a chiili cassis cocktail, garnished with candied peel. I know it’s the end of my marriage.

There appear to have been a couple of camps (not glamps) here, with some getting an intense, dry, woody vibe and some a fruity sweetness - weird.

The air infiltrated with sea spray and smoke, possibly a bit more pungent like the smoke from a cigarette bin fire. Fresh in the form of fuchsias, strawberries, cluster cherries, borderline mushy green grapes but also punchy and spirity like solvent and new make.

A Cognac that goes from being "reet fruity" all the way to "Fuck me, that's grapey".

The positive was almond flour. The rest was diluted whisky, clean, empty, acid reflux and a burst balloon. The finish was minus two.

There were lots of floral things being brought up, but the tone wasn't that glowing: outdoors but indoors (like a greenhouse), a bad flower, parma violets - parma violence -, tomato pheromones, and those small white flowers in a flower arrangement.

There were lots of floral things being brought up, but the tone wasn't that glowing: outdoors but indoors (like a greenhouse), a bad flower, parma violets - parma violence -, tomato pheromones, and those small white flowers in a flower arrangement.

There's now a herby, bitter sourness and Aquavit is the new alcohol metaphor, with toothpaste and dentist's mouthwash taking on the clinical mantle.

Like a giant cupcake decoration thrown together by your boozy gran, there was a smorgasboard of sweet things on the nose. We found pink marshmallows smothered in treacle next to chunks of pineapple coated in marzipan!

One thought it was 'unfun' and that is goes down like a pint of crushed glass. Others were more positive in their review: Smells of arse, but tastes nice. Grape shit. Toxic waste. And some were bordering on glowing in praise: Flippers.

Cherry lip death and very drunken bananas. Like all the condiments I like: Worcester sauce, Tabasco, ketchup, brown sauce and vinegar. And rinds of various kinds.

In a mad combo of food, emotions, sacrificial techniques and poor fire control, it was also described as: smoked cheese, emptiness, immolation, oversmoked and citrus toast.

Banana foams give us a link from fruit to toffee, with coconut and tree sap watching from the sidelines. Flying saucers too (presumably the sweets?), but also a touch of bleach and Glacier Mints - a mixed bag!

"Smells radge" and "holy fuckballs!" sum up the general feeling towards the smell, although there was some variation, with one saying it smelled boring, hard to place, generic and not very good and another saying it was the best nose of any whisky they'd experienced

McNulty from The Wire's guilt and the salt of the sweat of the Taoiseach before a general election. And finishing the whole thing of are perhaps the less-desirable flavours of melted plastic, yellow snow and oil.