Introduction
I’ve tried enough independent bottlings from Milroy’s of Soho to know they’re usually worth paying attention to, especially when single casks are involved. So when I had the chance to taste a pair released under Milroy’s name—a 2001 Clynelish and a 2003 Kildalton—I took it without hesitation. Both are bottled at cask strength, unchillfiltered, and come with minimal branding. Just whisky and good barrels. My notes below are based on separate tastings with plenty of time and water to open them up.
Nose
Starting with the Clynelish, I immediately picked up that familiar waxy profile. It's not overwhelming but definitely present. There's lemon zest, a soft mineral edge, and a dry grassiness that gives it a touch of the outdoors. Underneath, a gentle vanilla note and faint chalkiness come through. It’s not especially loud, but it’s clean and confident.
Kildalton is clearly from Islay, though which distillery exactly remains intentionally unnamed. The nose is a gentle mix of wood smoke, weathered rope, and sweet malt. It doesn’t charge out with huge peat—rather, it's measured, a little savory, with brine and barley holding balance with the smoke. There's a more leathery tone once it breathes, with faint dried fruits in the background, but the smoke stays grounded throughout.
Palate
Tasting the Clynelish first, it's immediately waxy and dry. The mouthfeel is medium-bodied, and there's a focused set of flavors: barley sugar, dried lemon peel, and some nutty oak. It folds easily into light pepper and a mineral texture—think wet stones. There's not much sweetness, which I actually appreciate here. It feels like a restrained, grown-up version of the distillate.
The Kildalton has a much fuller texture. It's smoky, yes, but not aggressive—more kiln smoke than medicinal. There’s a cereal core here, wrapped in ashy peat, pepper, roasted nuts, and a slight hint of sherry dryness. I don’t get any sulphur or off notes, but the sherry influence is subtle; it’s more about the seasoning than sweetness. With water, more earthy and maritime notes appear—like rain-dampened peat and driftwood.
Finish
The Clynelish fades with a waxy dryness, some white pepper warmth, and lingering lemon oil. It’s not overly long, but what remains is clean and consistent with the palate.
With Kildalton, the finish is quite long. The smoke intensifies a little here, joined by salty licorice, soot, and dried herbs. It ends on a slightly dry tannic note—nothing harsh, just a firm conclusion to the broader flavors.
Price and Value
Both bottlings were priced around what you’d expect for single cask, cask strength releases—somewhere just into the three-figure range when they were released. For that kind of money, I expect transparency, distinctiveness, and good cask management. Both whiskies delivered. Clynelish wasn’t flashy, but it held its character well. Kildalton was more complex and rewarding over time, especially with a splash of water. Neither felt over-oaked or forced. They both felt natural in the best way.
Background
Milroy’s of Soho has a long-standing tradition of independently bottling casks, and these two expressions reflect that minimal-interference style. The 2001 Clynelish is from the Highlands, known for its waxy, slightly coastal profile. It was likely aged in a refill hogshead, allowing the distillate to show clearly. The 2003 Kildalton hails from the south coast of Islay, and while the specific distillery isn't confirmed, the balance of smoke and barley led me to think it might be Lagavulin or Laphroaig.
Kildalton-style releases tend to come from distilleries located along Islay’s south coast (Ardbeg, Laphroaig, and Lagavulin among them), and though this one is unnamed, it fits squarely in that profile. You can learn more about these distilleries at their respective official pages—one example is Ardbeg.
Final Notes
Would I buy either bottle again? Yes—especially the Kildalton, which had more depth and evolution in the glass. The Clynelish was solid and textbook, but perhaps not the most memorable for the price. Is either one suitable for someone just getting into whisky? I’d say Clynelish might be the easier entry point with its clean and structured profile, while Kildalton would make more sense for someone already comfortable with Islay styles.
If you're looking for a whisky to enjoy quietly over time, Kildalton rewards patience and dilution—it’s not loud, but it's steady. How do they compare to others from the same region? The Clynelish stayed true to its distillery character, more so than many modern releases, and the Kildalton easily holds its own beside official Islay bottlings, even if slightly less polished.
Both are good examples of what Milroy’s seems to be going for: well-chosen casks that let the natural character of the whisky shine, without noise.