The dearest Lark asks nearly triple what its room does

That is the Lark position this week, and it holds from the top of the range to the bottom. The median ticket across the six is $208, and every bottle sits over its own neighbourhood. These are small 500mL bottles, which is part of the story, and Tasmanian single malt carries a premium that the rest of the shelf does not. The question worth asking is not whether Lark is dear. It is how much of the dearness the whisky in the glass is actually buying.

Start at the top, because the top is where it is starkest. The Cask Strength is $259 against a neighbourhood that sits near $97, which is close to triple what its company asks. The whisky is a bright, approachable thing for its strength: a light spirit with corn sweetness, sugar and citrus, cinnamon and nutmeg off the cask. It is a good dram. It is also the single widest gap over a room on this whole desk, and no amount of warmth in the glass closes a gap that size.

Now the other end. You might expect the cheapest ticket to be the one that reads fair, and it is the closest, but closest here is not close. The Symphony is $147 against a room near $100, about half again over. It drinks of charred wood and honeyed sweetness, a dried, smoky edge from the cask. For the lowest price of entry to the range it is a reasonable place to start, as long as you know you are still paying over its neighbourhood to do it.

The peated bottle sits between them and leans the same way. The Tasmanian Peated is $215 against a room near $122, roughly three-quarters over. This is the one I would reach for on character: rich and honeyed, a soft, light peat rather than an Islay wall of smoke, the sweetness carrying it. A lovely whisky at a firm price.

The narrowest gap in the range, for what it is worth, belongs to the No.151 Fire Trail at $169 against a room near $138, about a fifth over. It has no published review to quote this week, so I will not put tasting notes in your mouth that the data does not support; the model reads it as lightly peated with a touch of sherried fruit, and the gap, while real, is the gentlest of the six. The Classic Cask at $210 and the Rebellion at $239 round out the range, both well over their rooms, both without a review to draw character from this week.

Where does that leave a buyer? Honestly, not with a bargain, if a bargain means a bottle priced under its company. There is none of those here. What there is, is a choice about what you want from Tasmania. If you want the Lark experience for the least outlay, the Symphony at $147 is the door, over its room but the smallest ticket in the set. If you want the one that drinks best for the money, I would take the Tasmanian Peated at $215 for its soft smoke and honey over the bigger-numbered Cask Strength, which asks a flagship price for a flagship label. And if the wide gaps bother you more than the whisky pleases you, this is a range to admire on the shelf and leave there.

None of which is an accusation. Small-batch Tasmanian malt in half-size bottles costs what it costs, and Lark set the benchmark locally. But the model's job is to say how far each ticket sits from the company it keeps, and for Lark this week the answer is: a fair way, all six of them.