In 1993, when the DoubleWood was introduced, the "finishing" of whisky in wine casks was a relatively new idea. Today, of course, it's a commonplace practice with many (if not most) distilleries offering one or more "finished": releases. The results have been uneven, in some cases disasterous (Auchentoshen Triple Wood comes to mind). The Balvenie DoubleWood is one of the successes, a delicious balance of sweet and dry, soft and spicy flavors.

Lagavulin isn't a whisky for everyone. The very bigness of flavor and aroma that speaks to the seasoned whisky drinker tends to overpower the novice. My advice to everyone serious about whisky -- buy a bottle of Lagavulin. If you don't care for it now, you will. Put it on the shelf, come back in a year, another year . . . a day will come when it will be a favorite.

The 16-year-old (the only US release) seems to combine all the disparate Islay flavors: it has the smoky, peaty, phenolic flavors of an Ardbeg, the seaweed, salt and iodine of a Laphroaig and Bowmore, and a touch of the smoked-fruit flavor of a Caol Ila. These elements, combined with the softness and gentility of a Bunnahabhain and Bruichladdich, are softened by the balancing contrasts of sherry sweetness and malty dryness.

The 15-year-old expression, new to the American market, is a delicious example of the sherry cask whisky that The Macallan distillers have made into an art form. From the rich toffee-and-smoke nose, to the dry, smoky finish, it's a unique and exquisite single malt. (This comes from someone who has never been particularly fond of sherry cask whisky!)

If you haven't tasted The Macallan in a while, it's the time to get reacquainted.

Tomatin is a delightful whisky, a step up in flavor from Lowland and lighter Highland malts, without becoming too challenging (like Islay or heavily sherried malts). It exhibits a smooth balance of malty sweetness, a perfumy lightness, a peaty nuttiness, and a smoky softness.

I sometimes surprise guests during an evening of tasting various whiskies. After a sampling of several light malts, Tomatin tastes distinctly rich and flavorful.

There's currently an opportunity to find out what you've missed. I purchased a bottle of this Cadenhead 19-year-old (1981-2000, 58 vol.), on a trip to Scotland. Finally some bottles have made their way to the US. It's from an oloroso sherry cask, which adds subtle sweet and fruity notes to a relatively dry and faintly peaty malt.

It's delicious, and perhaps your last chance to affordably sample (about $100) a vanishing single malt.

It may just be the fond memories of a journey through an exotic part of America, but I like to believe that Glenfarclas is a particularly "Nawlins" style of whisky. Perhaps that's why the Sazerac Company of New Orleans was chosen to be the American distributor. It's a whisky that has the sophistication and charm to be at home in an antebellum mansion; comfort and warmth to fortify the soul at a late night voodoo funeral; and the common man earthiness to sip while eating fresh cooked crawfish by the side of the road at a "boiling point".

The nose has an earthy, sweaty, pungent aroma, mixed with sweet vermouth and licorice notes. The palate begins with sherry notes, then a smoky, peaty dryness. The finish is long, dry, smoky, and trails off with echoes of oak.

The 21-year-old PortWood from The Balvenie has an exquisitely well balanced combination of complex flavors, starting with a grapey sweetness in the nose and continuing through notes of heather, toffee, and anise. A cedary dryness keeps it from becoming overly sweet and heavy, maintaining an appetizing lightness.

It must be wonderful to smell the smells, hear the sounds, feel the energy, and most of all -- take pride in the knowledge that you have rescued a piece of living history from extinction. Other than your infectious enthusiasm and the warmth of June and the rest of the staff, there has been a feeling of sadness on my visits to Bladnoch. As though it were haunted by the ghosts of a lively and cherished past. Against all odds you accomplished a seemingly impossible task -- the spirits have returned to Bladnoch. My glass is lifted to you.

As I wrote I sipped a bit of a 25-year-old Signatory bottling of Bladnoch (1974-99, 54.8 vol.). It's a delicious malt that balances the clean, lemony, grassy notes of a young Bladnoch with the cedary, herbal notes that come from 25 years in an oak cask. Few Lowland malts age well beyond their teens as the lightness of the whisky tends to be overpowered by the oak and cedar notes that emerge from the cask. In this case it is a perfect combination of flavors, and a perfect symbol, bridging the Bladnoch of old and the new Bladnoch.

It's a whisky rich with character. A whiff of the nose brings to mind the harshness of storms at sea, of a youth spent drifting and searching for ones place in life. The palate speaks of the strength, confidence, and the sweetness of midlife success and attainment. The finish is a late life reminiscence of paths not taken, opportunities squandered, and ultimately, of comfort and contentment.

Scapa is one of those whiskies that falls into the relatively affordable range (about $35 to $45), yet has a following of fans that is almost cult-like in its loyalty and devotion. The distillery has had its ups and downs, and is now managed by Highland Park, the second, and nearby Orkney Island distillery.

Bottled at 40 vol., the color is a full gold. The nose is dry, somewhat dusty, with touches of oak, vanilla, chocolate and anise. The palate is sweet and smooth, with creamy and salty notes. The finish is a little salty, slightly peppery, and leaves with a faint buttery echo. Quit delicious.

At one time the Miltonduff distillery had a Lomond still that produced a heavier malt. The still has been demolished but there are still occasional independent bottlings that are released. This Cadenhead 28-year-old (1970-99, 59.6 vol.), is quite exquisite. The color is a full gold, and the nose is rich with cedary, flowery, buttery, creamy notes. The body is slightly thick, syrupy, and continues into a flowery, rosewater and cane sugar sweetness. As the flavor develops, hints of smoke and burnt sugar surface. The finish is soothing, with notes of cream, smoke, polished leather, and subtle floral hints.

A very rich and luxurious expression of a lost single malt that will soon be a distant memory.

After leaving the distillery I wandered across the street to the Cadenhead shop and purchased a bottle of the new 10-year-old distillery release. There it was! The same distinct buttery, vanilla, creamy, butterscotch flavor. It turns out that the malt has spent a minimum of three years in rum casks. The result is a delicious combination of sweet, rich, candy-like elements, balanced by a lemony, minty crispness

A note: Since writing this review, the distillery has changed the mixture of Springbank malts that go into the 10-year-old. It unfortunately, no longer contains the rum cask whisky.

For the past decade the distillery has tended towards releases that contained a large proportion of sherry cask whisky. It's a very pleasant surprise to encounter a very different Springbank. Paraphrasing Frank McHardy, a large distillery needs to maintain a consistency in its bottlings from year to year and decade to decade. A small, family run distillery like Springbank has the luxury of being able to experiment, and to release the best whisky from its warehouses regardless of whether or not it is consistent with previous releases.

There are hints of chocolate in other malts (The Dalmore and Scapa come to mind), but only in Ben Nevis is chocolate the defining flavor. Along with the chocolate are elements of oranges, tobacco, and a slight creamy, nuttiness. It's really quite delicious and has the depth and appeal of a much older malt.

Ben Nevis is a bit hard to find in the US, and I hadn't sampled it until recently. It has quickly become a favorite.

The good news is that the Loch Lomond company now owns Littlemill and has plans to resume limited production. The bad news is that the current 8-year-old release is from diminishing stores that were produced from stills that were long ago dismantled. The 8-year-old will only be bottled for another two years! There will be older releases (a 17-year-old was recently introduced), but the youthful Littlemill will soon be a fading memory.

Littlemill may be the quintessential lowland malt. The nose carries the distinct, toasted marshmallow, slightly talcum-like aroma. The flavor is at first malty-sweet (not overly so), then gradually fades to a mildly dry finish.

It might be a good idea to put a bottle aside and wait another eight years to see how it compares to the new Littlemill when it is released.

Old Fettercairn is one of those inexpensive whiskies that I tend to dismiss -- until I sample a bit -- and I'm quickly reminded of what a delicious whisky it is. It has a near perfect balance of rich, nutty, dryness, and a clean, creamy, toffee, sweetness.

This 22-year-old (1975-97) from Hart Brothers is an excellent example of Port Ellen, and available at a relatively affordable price (about $85.00). The color is a light gold, and the nose is briny, smoky, and medicinal. The palate is sweet and smoky, with an exquisite balance of heathery sweetness, peaty smoke, and seaweedy salt. The finish is dry, smoky, and peppery. Delicious.

What whisky would you choose? There are many that would be appropriate, but one that immediately comes to mind is The Dalmore 21-year-old. It's a rich expression of a mature, Northern Highland malt -- soft, smooth, well-balanced, with a sherry presence and distinctive notes of oranges and chocolate. Add some hints of smoke, a little oak, a whiff of salt air, and you have a wonderful, complex malt.

Its very complexity begs for introspection, and its balance hints of answers to questions that haven't yet been put into words.

It's a shame The Glenlivet 12-year-old tends be overlooked. I always keep a bottle in the whisky cabinet but it tends to work its way to the back. In the US, The Glenlivet has been an old standby. Long before the recent interest in single malts, most bars had a bottle of the 12-year-old on the shelf. As more and more single malts were introduced to the American market it became interesting to try something new and The Glenlivet began to be forgotten.

It really is an outstanding malt -- clean, flowery, sweet (without becoming cloying). Deceptively simple at first, it eventually opens up a complex array of flavors. If you haven't tasted The Glenlivet 12-year-old in a while, buy a bottle now. It's the perfect drink for a breezy Spring evening.

Released at 43 vol., this release has a pale gold color. The nose is youthful with an abundant cereal grain presence overlaying a floral and sea breeze character. In addition, there's a very pleasant buttery aroma. The palate is quite dry with the same elements in the nose reappearing. The finish is surprisingly complex for a whisky this young, with slight peppery, spicy notes -- and again, that buttery quality.

Talisker isn't for everyone. If you're new to single malts you'll probably hate it, but that doesn't mean it isn't a great whisky. Sooner or later, you'll find yourself on a cold winter's evening by a fire, contemplating the mysteries of life. You'll reach for that bottle of Talisker because it seems to have answers in its fiery independence and refusal to conform. It doesn't ask to be liked, it doesn't care what you think. It has an aloofness that only comes of wisdom and maturity.

Many great whiskies of the past came to mind. I thought of Black Bowmore, one of the finest whiskies I've tasted. I thought of toasting with a Port Ellen or another whisky from a distillery that no longer operates or has been destroyed, toasting the losses of the century. I'll probably have a taste of these and several other whiskies, but I wanted to choose a single malt that was readily accessible, affordable (at least not outrageously expensive), and one that signified the best of what is happening in the world of whisky at the end of the century.

For these reasons I chose the Springbank 21-year-old. It is truly a great whisky, combining elements of sherry, oak, seaside salt air, peat, and smoke into an amazingly well-balanced and smooth experience. It's perfect for a cold evening alone by the fire, but not out of place at a party with a group of friends. It comes from a distillery that represents the future of whisky. The Springbank distillery has done much to insure the growth and evolution of single malt whisky. As distilleries are constantly being closed and mothballed, Springbank has managed to grow and even introduce new distillations of Longrow and Hazelburn. In addition, the distillery has introduced a unique program making it possible for Americans to purchase whisky by the cask and have it delivered in partial lots as it matures.

Yes, there'll be a midnight toast to the New Year with a measure of Springbank 21-year-old in my hand.

Currently there is a very notable exception to this rule, an outstanding 10-year-old Highland Park from Cadenhead (1988, 55.1 vol.). While the sherry is still the first impression in both nose and palate, it is not overpowering. A second reading of smoky peat and seaweed and salt quickly sets in, all balanced in a smooth creaminess. Outstanding.

Both of the 1999 releases are exquisite -- big, smoky, sweet -- seemingly closer to an Islay (Port Ellen, Ardbeg) than a Campbeltown malt. It's a great opportunity to compare these two versions of a legendary single malt but be prepared to pay dearly, about $100 each.

The 8-year-old is almost clear, with a slight yellow cast. The nose is big and smoky, with notes of pepper, mint, seaweed and iodine -- medicinal. The flavor is sweet, then dry with sourmash notes. A long smoky-peppery-salty finish. There are only 792 bottles of this out there, and going at about $50.00 a bottle. I bought my case.