Every Talisker asks a Skye premium, the Port finish asks for two

That is the Skye surcharge, and it runs from mild to eye-watering. The Talisker shelf sits around $123, and the house style is the whole draw: brine, smoke and a peppery kick that reads as the sea more than the still. What you hand over for it depends entirely on which bottle you reach for. The spread between the honest one and the indulgent one is wider than a range of three has any right to be, and once you can see it you cannot unsee it.

What makes Talisker worth the attention in the first place is that the house style is unmistakable. Pour any of the three blind and you would place the island within a sip: the cured-fish-and-sea-spray note, the pepper on the back of the tongue, the way the smoke sits beside the sweetness instead of burying it. Few distilleries are this recognisable. It is exactly that recognisability the price leans on, which is why it pays to know where each bottle really sits against the shelf before you reach for the one in the prettiest box.

Start with the Storm, the one closest to fair. At $110 it carries about 18% over the roughly $93 its nearest neighbours cost. It is the no-age-statement Talisker, built for punch rather than polish, and it tastes the part: maritime and briny up front, a woody middle, then honey and a warm, spicy finish that keeps it from turning austere. Eighteen per cent over the room is not a bargain. It is, though, the smallest ask in the range, and for a maritime malt with this much going on it is the one I would not argue with. If you have never had a Talisker and want to know what the fuss is, this is the cheapest honest way to find out.

The 10 is the one most people picture when they hear the name, and it is $123 against roughly $95 for its neighbours, about 29% over. The extra fourteen dollars over the Storm buy the age statement and a more settled glass. There is a soft sweetness first, then the smoke arrives, then pear and heather, with a seam of seaweed running underneath that is pure Skye. It is a lovely dram and a genuinely classic one. It is also priced like a flagship, which is another way of saying the badge is doing some of the lifting. If the 10 is the Talisker you want, buy it happily, but buy it knowing roughly a third of the tag sits above where its company trades.

Then the Port Ruighe, where the sums stop being gentle. At $149 it runs about 116% over the roughly $69 its ten nearest cost. More than double. This is the port-cask Talisker, and the model parks it against a crowd of wine- and port-finished bottles that mostly sell for half as much, which is what pulls the gap so wide. In the glass it leans sweet and almost festive: sherry, chocolate and honey, then ginger and nutmeg laid over the usual Talisker spice, the maritime edge rounded off by the wine wood. It is a pleasant bottle. At a hundred and forty-nine dollars it is a pleasant bottle asking twice what its neighbours do, and the port finish is the entire reason for the gap, not more whisky in the glass.

Line the three up and the shape is plain. The further Talisker drifts from its plain maritime self, the further the tag floats above the room. The Storm, cheapest and least dressed, sits closest to fair. The 10 adds the age statement and a third again on top. The Port Ruighe adds a wine-cask finish and doubles. None of this makes the whisky bad. All three are recognisably good, and the house character survives every one of the treatments. What it says is that the premium here rides on the dressing rather than the distillery, and that leaves the choice, and the amount, in your hands.

It helps to know what "its neighbours" means, because the Port Ruighe number looks almost unfair until you do. The model is not comparing the Port Ruighe to the other two Taliskers. It is comparing it to the ten bottles across the whole shelf it reads as closest in character, and for a sweet, port-finished malt that company is a good deal cheaper than a hundred and forty-nine dollars. So the gap is not Talisker against Talisker. It is this bottle against the nearest thing to it you could buy instead, and on that test the finish is dear.

So, buying. If you want the house in its clearest form and the smallest premium, the Storm at $110 is the call: maritime, honest, and the least stretched of the three. If you want the classic and will pay for the age, the 10 at $123 is the one, a third over its room but the definitive dram and hard to regret. The Port Ruighe at $149 is for drinkers who specifically want the sweeter, port-finished side of Talisker and have already decided the finish earns its keep. Go in clear-eyed: you are paying for a different and dearer dress on the same island, not for a better whisky underneath it.