There's a quiet revolution happening in Irish whiskey, and it's being led by outfits like Two Stacks — a brand that seems constitutionally incapable of playing it safe. Their Fruit Drops expression, an apricot brandy cask finish bottled at a muscular 50% ABV, is the kind of bottle that makes you rethink what Irish whiskey can be. It's not trying to be your grandfather's Sunday evening pour. It's trying to be something you haven't tried before, and on that count, it delivers.
Two Stacks operate out of Northern Ireland, part of a new wave of independent Irish whiskey makers who are more interested in flavour than tradition for tradition's sake. The Fruit Drops sits within their experimental finishing range — whiskey that's been matured and then given additional time in casks that previously held apricot brandy. It's a bold choice. Apricot isn't a note you encounter often in the whiskey world, and that novelty is precisely the point.
At 50% ABV, this has genuine weight behind it. This isn't a flavoured whiskey in the commercial sense — it's a properly finished spirit that wears its cask influence like a well-fitted jacket rather than a costume. The higher strength means nothing is diluted or flattened; whatever the apricot brandy casks have contributed arrives with conviction. For under forty pounds, you're getting cask strength territory without the cask strength price tag, which is increasingly rare.
Tasting Notes
I'll hold off on giving detailed tasting notes here, as I want to let you discover this one for yourself. What I will say is this: expect the unexpected. The Irish whiskey base provides a familiar foundation — that characteristic approachability and grain sweetness the style is known for — but the apricot brandy finish takes it somewhere genuinely different. This is a whisky that rewards curiosity. If you're the sort of drinker who reads the back label before buying, this one will intrigue you. If you're the sort who just pours and trusts, it'll surprise you.
The Verdict
Two Stacks Fruit Drops is a whiskey with a clear sense of identity. It knows what it is — an experiment, yes, but a confident one. At £37.50, it sits in that sweet spot where you don't feel guilty buying a bottle on a whim, and at 50% ABV, it punches well above that price point. I've had finished whiskeys at twice the cost that felt half as interesting. The apricot brandy cask is a genuine differentiator, not a gimmick, and the NAS designation doesn't bother me one bit when the liquid in the glass is this engaging. A 7.8 feels right — this is a very good whiskey that does something most bottles on the shelf simply don't attempt. Points for ambition. Points for execution. Points for making me reach for a second glass before I'd finished writing about the first.
Best Served
Pour this neat in a Glencairn and give it five minutes to open up — the higher ABV needs a moment to settle. If you're feeling adventurous, add three or four drops of water and watch it bloom. On a warm evening, this would be exceptional over a single large ice cube, where the slow dilution will coax out the fruit character over half an hour. It also has cocktail potential: swap it into an Old Fashioned in place of your usual bourbon, use a light honey syrup instead of sugar, and garnish with a dried apricot slice. Trust me on that last one.
