Discover Whisky

I am standing in my kitchen having just got round to opening todays mail - cheers to Michelle for letting me know I had some just after 11 o’clock at night - and I find a brown package. And inside is the strangest bubbliest air inflated packaging I have seen. Once I get this off I find three little bubble wrapped packages of delight from the guys over @ Master of Malt. At this stage I’m enraptured, salivating and carefully getting the contents out and inside I find a selection of whiskies. And within this little bundle of joy - which this early in the month is doubly pleasing, I find something I’ve been wanting to taste for a while - the 19 year old Tomatin.

Why have I been craving to taste the 19 year old Tomatin?

Fair question. But put simply if the polymath Stephen Fry feels it to be his favourite whisky (I don’t know what he likes about whisky but I trust him) describing it as “ Stunning from first nosing to final swallow”. I’m one of those who in some small way would love to be Stephen Fry and instead of being a polymath is merely otaku. Duly I feel I must taste this whisky, right now, without delay at the inglorious time of 11:45pm inspite of the ear bashing this is about to cause purely to see if Stephen Fry is right about everything, including whisky.I have to admit that I know little about Tomatin - having tasted it only once in my life about 6 years ago and the one I tasted left so little impression on me that I can’t remember a darned thing about it. And with this little tasting it’s at cask strength (57.6% ABV) so I should sleep soundly this evening and probably may have difficulty with my memory in the morning if i drink too much of it.

It’s a phenomenal golden colour - and I mean real gold not orangey and not that bronzey (sp?) colour of a sunrise but more a gentle, subtle gold that has me smiling (probably would show I liked butter if I held it up to my chin). And the smell falls right in the middle of my current tasting preferences. It reminded me of the Caribbean to start with and not rum but Tortoga cake. In particular the smell you get when you pierce the shrink wrapped cellophane wrapping around a pineapple tortoga cake. Fry talks of ‘peardrops‘ and he may be right but I don’t have much time for pear drops and preferred strawberry bonbons as a wean.

It’s slightly malty and oatmeally - like a mad scientists micro-brewery stout smelt from three streets away which leads you round two corners and up an side street (I’m actually thinking of Bridge of Allan brewery at this stage - which is strange as I’ve never smelt them brewing) before you can find the place.It packs multiple flavour layers into the mouth as it goes down - at the front of the tongue and then fattens out into the back of the mouth where the fun begins even more.

I’m actually smiling - which if you know me is as rare as hens teeth.

It’s not heavy in alcohol heat, and instead is charming, elegant and goes down too easily. At just under £70.00 it’s not the cheapest bottle I’ll buy this year but it’s in the top two I’ve tasted so far.

If you fancy tasting a whisky distilled in Scotland from the first distillery purchased by a Japanese company, judging by this it was a canny investment. If there are a couple of you having a dram together and you want a conversation started that will generate no ends of ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ and probably merriment give it a go.I’ve not tasted it with water yet but it feels like it could probably take a tiniest pipette of water and may just open up a bit further. I don’t want to risk it and when a whisky as good as this crosses your path maybe it would be a bigger sin to add water.

And now off I toddle to my bed for the night - with a smile on my face.

But not a Scottish island. This one lies off the coast of Africa but is part of Europe and run by Portugal. The delightful island of Madeira is famous for its mild climate, excellent seafood and the wine which takes its name. I was there myself over New Year and enjoyed it immensely, so when I was asked if I wished to sample a single malt which had been finished in Madeiran wine casks I was immediately intrigued.

The whisky in question is The Balvenie, a Speyside noted for its smooth taste. Now regular readers will know that I’m not really a Speyside afficionado; generally favouring the wilder and more complex flavours of the west coast, though I do have fond memories of an evening spent drinking Balvenie in the company of the historical novelist Dorothy Dunnett, herself an expert and appreciative malt drinker; but the prospect of a combination with the rich taste of Madeira easily pursuaded me to lay aside my normal preference for smoke and peat.

The Balvenie - Madeira Cask, 17 years old, 43%

Colour

Medium-light honey

Nose

Soft, smooth, a suggestion of honey with a slight hint of cough medicine. The Madeira comes through well. Leaving it for a few minutes produces a vanilla note with the Madeira fading back.

Taste

Initial taste

Warm without being spirity. Front of the tongue tastes predominate, redolent of one of the richer honeys such as Manuka.

Later taste

The honey dies back and a spicier taste appears - very reminicent of Christmas cake with flavours of dark dried fruits and cinnamon.

Finish

Medium length. Not essentially different from the flavours of the second taste, but while in a west coast malt I would find that slightly disappointing, here it is much more appropriate for it to maintain consistency.

After a little water

A touch of water releases some lighter vanilla notes and the taste lightens too, becoming sweeter and finally producing the Madeira cake flavour that I’d been expecting might be present. I seldom prefer watered versions but here it’s a satisfying counterpoint.

Conclusion

The marriage between smooth Speyside spirit and the rich flavours of Madeiran wine works very well. While Balvenie isn’t as complex a spirit as one from Islay or Skye, its smooth refined palate provides an ideal base for the addition of the rich spiciness provided by the wine casks. Had this approach been applied to a more complicated malt it might well have resulted in a clash, here it blends the respective flavours to produce something that exceeds both. If you like smooth Speysides and especially if you also like rich, spicy fortified wines then I’d recommend that you give this one a try when it’s released in September.

One of Dorothy Dunnett’s books involves the hero’s Scots father owning a plantation on Madeira in the 15th century - it’s a connection that now makes perfect sense.

This is the first tasting note from my recent visit to the Scotch Malt Whisky Society’s rooms in Queen St in Edinburgh. The Society has a tradition of not referring to their bottlings by name, but only by cask number, but they do give hints that enable you to identify them with a little research. I’ll continue that tradition here. For those of you who are Society members they can be bought at www.smws.co.uk/shop/ (though I imagine you’ve all been there already!) and all of you can see the full selection there.

The first whisky in our tasting was from a distillery in Falkirk that is sadly no more. Mike has long had a soft spot for this one so he’ll be annoyed that he couldn’t make the tasting. Regrettably my original tasting notes disappeared from my Palm Pilot, so these are based on recollections a few days afterwards with hints from the Society’s own notes. Sometimes I agreed with them, sometimes I didn’t…

Cask no 25.47

Described by the Society as A Sunny Flower Meadow Picnic
19 years old, 59.7%

Colour

Pale yellow

Nose

Spirity to begin with, as might be expected from this strength, with floral scents coming through and a hint of what might be a resin.

Taste

first taste

Not really what I’d expected at all - much better than the basic malt that used to be sold in the shops. Softer and more subtle, floral notes - maybe elderflower - but with hints of spice - probably Cinnamon - and wood.

later taste

Rose begins to come through along with a taste that reminds me of the smell of old leather furniture. The Society tasting panel mentioned chocolate and marshmallow although I can’t say I noticed those.

Finish

Some of my fellow tasters thought the finish was long but I found the opposite. What was there was good though.

With a little water

I have to say that I overdid the water a little, and as a result I probably missed the effect somewhat. However there was no sense of the sudden release of aromatics that I’m familiar with from the western distilleries. A little more rose and maybe a touch of pineapple-type citrus. The Society notes mentioned lemon and cut grass and I could see where that might be the case if I’d used a little less water.

Sometimes leaving a whisky for 10 or 15 minutes can bring out more flavours. We checked back on this one later and found that it wasn’t one that benefited from this approach. Personally I’d drink it at cask strength.

Conclusion

While this lowlander wasn’t my usual style of malt it was a satisfying dram, light and subtle with some excellently blended flavours. Because it is no longer made it has rarity value - at the price quoted I probably wouldn’t buy it myself, but for those of you who favour this style I can imagine it being a must-have and I suspect it’ll sell out quickly.

Although I’ve still to finish off the first sweep of the standard Islay malts the only remaining one was heavily mentioned in my recent book review so I think it’s time to venture further afield on the west coast.

The island of Mull has always been one of my very favourite places, ever since a lovely holiday early in married life. I saw my only “in the wild” otter there and despite twice having car problems have only good memories of the place. However when I first visited, the little distillery in Tobermory was the one downside as it was mothballed and looking a bit down at heel. Thankfully it has since been revived and there are two versions of its output fairly readily available. One uses the modern name of that most picturesque of villages while the other uses the old name. This time round we look at the old one.

Ledaig - 10 years old, 40%

Colour

Pale straw

Nose

Spirity with just a hint of oiliness.

Taste

Initial taste

Soft and fairly dry. There is no particularly over-riding flavour - very little peat or smoke, although a taste of peat ash comes through after a couple of minutes. A mild lemon appears shortly after.

Later taste

Curiously this dram seems to get stronger the longer you leave it. A warmer richer taste replaces the lemon and the nose seems to become sharper. There are some brief notes of what might become floral but these are short-lived. There is also something that reminds me of some herbs but I haven’t been able to identify which ones as yet.

Finish

Medium length.

Conclusion

After having spent the last few months with the heavyweight Islays I’ve had to readjust my expectations. All single malts can’t be in the top 5% or be deep and challenging but that doesn’t make then unworthy of drinking at the right time. I may also have to retune my tastebuds because malts that other people describe as peaty seem to me to be devoid of that taste!

On the strength of this tasting, and I’d like to try it again, Ledaig appears to have little of the complexity of its more celebrated island cousins. This is a much simpler spirit, which in some ways echoes its Tobermory origins, clean, light and relaxing, but with an inate strength that underpins it. If you like the west coast or island style but balk at the salty and/or peaty superstars then this might just be for you.

Like the earlier tasting of Blair Athol, this Glenmorangie expression arrived via my father and a good friend who knows his tastes. The Tain distillery have been in the forefront of special finishes and this one uses Spanish Oloroso Sherry casks. I’d heard Mike talking about one of their other finishes, the Quinta Ruban which uses Port casks, in enthusiastic terms so I was intrigued to discover what this would be like; especially when I realised that two days after opening it was already half empty! Perhaps though I should mention that this was partly due to a farewell toast to Jock Wilson, the oldest Normandy Veteran at 105, whose funeral had taken place that day, and at which dad had spoken eloquently.

Glenmorangie - The Lasanta -  46%

no age given other than the Sherry finish is after at least 10 years in Bourbon casks.

Colour

Rich dark-golden honey.

Nose

Warm, spirity, the sherry is quite noticeable but well-blended, hints of black treacle and perhaps a little peatier than expected for a Glenmorangie.

Taste

Initial taste

Rich, dark chocolate, treacle again, walnut, black raisins. The sensation seems to go across the top of the palate and down the back of the mouth.

Later taste

A little of the spirit edge comes off and leaves a lush, warm, enveloping taste. There is a hint of spice and bitter Seville oranges but with the bitterness masked by the sweetness of the sherry, while there is a suggestion that the treacle has changed to almost-licquorice.

Finish

Long, smooth and rich. Very relaxing. It’s hard to resist another glass!

Conclusion

In some ways quite unlike the standard Glenmorangie which is much lighter, this is a rich concoction suited to long evening discussions surrounded by wood panelling and a warm fire. However in other regards you can still detect the essential nature, which I’ve seen described as “soft and gentle”, providing the base for the darker richer layers which the sherry finish provides. Their advertising uses the “Glen of Tranquility” translation prominently and that is a perfect description of this excellent combination of Highlander and Spaniard.

No whisky enthusiast needs to be told about Islay, the island that is so steeped in our favourite spirit that it seems to run in the very blood of the inhabitants. Equally we are all aware of the sad fate of many of Scotland’s famous old distilleries; mothballed or closed forever due to the boom and bust nature of the blended whisky market mixed in with the effects of prohibition and two world wars. So any reversal of fortune, any revival of a closed distillery is to be celebrated.

Such is the case with Bruichladdich, and this new book looks at the background to its purchase, reopening, and subsequent success. There are many people behind the revival of this famous old distillery, and author Stuart Rivans is careful to ensure they are all well credited, but two men stand out - Mark Reynier and Jim McEwan. The former has the vision of a wider range of the highest quality malt whiskies for every occasion - born out of his deep knowledge of the wine trade and changing tastes - and the business drive to pull off impossible deals, while the latter has the consummate knowledge of the art of whisky distilling, of the men who help produce it and how to motivate them, and is natural communicator to the public. Along with their entire staff they have a passion for what they’re doing.

Without these two it’s doubtful if Bruichladdich could have been revived, but what comes through strongly is that it could probably only have succeeded on Islay; because of the strong community spirit, the generous help freely given by the local population, and the native ability to repair just about anything with minimum resources. The delightful little mention of the scones and pancakes left anonymously at the distillery door after yet another late night had been worked gives just a hint of the nature of the people there.

As Reynier said, it’s not really his or his shareholders’ distillery, it’s theirs, it’s part of the soul of the island, and the boost to moral which the reopening has produced is testament to it. The further project of rebuilding and reopening Port Charlotte is an even bolder step which promises further benefits for the island and its people as well a new flavours for malt enthusiasts to savour.

For the first few chapters I confess I was a little concerned about the writing style. It seemed to repeat and have false starts and I wondered if it needed editing. However after a while I began to realise that it was a by-product of the author’s enthusiasm for the tale being told and affection for the people and place being described, and by the end I was wishing the book was longer and wondering about signing up for the Whisky Academy which was so lovingly described.

If you’re a whisky enthusiast (and why else would you be reading this blog!) then you’ll want to read this story; to feel some of the atmosphere of Islay, to confirm that the little guy really can survive and prosper against the conglomerates, and to rejoice in the prospects of even more interesting single malts becoming available in the near future. And of course you’ll want a bottle of one of Bruichladdich’s highly individual products by your armchair as you do so!

Slainte!

Whisky Dreams: Waking a Giant
by Stuart Rivans
Published by Birlinn
Paperback
ISBN-13: 9781841586816
Price: £9.99

Bowmore used to be regarded in some quarters as piggy-in-the-middle; a bit of a compromise between the two extremes of the Islay tastes, but certainly in recent years this seems to me to be rather unfair. I’ve enjoyed it on a number of occasions, particularly since a visit to Islay some years ago, and Mike and I attended a tasting of three Bowmore bottlings in the Spring, but given the comparative nature of my current enquiries into Islay malts I was interested to see whether it would stand out as well as the others.

Bowmore 12 year old, 40%

Colour

Amber.

Nose

Peaty, warm soft smoke.

Taste

Initial taste
Again warm and smoky, an enveloping taste that seductively wraps itself around your tongue, leaving a comfortable feeling like the memories evoked by the still-warm remains of a peat fire.

Later taste
An unexpected sweetness briefly appears and then recedes again, replaced by hints of liquorice - but not too much. The alcohol tastes stronger than its rating, maintain the warmth. Some oak coming through the smoke. There is none of the saltiness of Bunnahabhain but it would be wrong to think of it as being one-dimensional as the peat smoke is a subtle thing, changing wraith-like in your senses and never quite allowing you to pin it down.

Finish

The intensity isn’t as long as you might expect - as the alcohol dies back it seems to take the main tastes with it - but the remnant background flavour remains in place for rather longer to remind you that another sip is waiting.

Conclusion

While very different from its neighbours it has a distinctive feel of its own. Perhaps not as complex as Lagavulin or Laphroaig nor as clean as Bruichladdich or Caol Ila, this is nevertheless a quality dram. Ideal for escaping a cold winter’s night. I know from experience that the 15 year-old is even better but that is for another tasting note. In my own preferences in this raft of tastings I’d say it is above Laphroaig and possibly Bunnahabhain, but below Caol Ila and Lagavulin. There would be times I’d prefer Ardbeg and others where I might prefer this Bowmore.

I remember, many years ago, trying Lagavulin a few weeks after finding Laphroaig too medicinal for my young palate, and quite liking it. However for some reason our paths have hardly ever crossed since then. Memory and changing tastes often play tricks so I was interested to see what my opinions of it would be now.

Lagavulin 16 year old, 43%

Colour

Deep amber

Nose

Oh, this is good. You can tell immediately. Warm, slightly salty.

Taste

Initial taste
Exactly like the nose, love at first sip. Brings to mind a warm summers day by the seashore with the grass warm under your feet. There’s a real feeling of mature quality; the fact that it’s older than the normal “standard” malts at 16 years old is very evident. It makes me wonder what the Laphroaig, which readers may remember I thought was not yet fully developed, would have been like at this age. I also wonder what the special 12 year old bottlings of Lagavulin will be like - I’ll definitely be finding out! Did I mention it was warm?

Later taste
The saltiness increases slightly, but not to excess as was threatened with the Bunnahabhain. A little caramel comes through, and increasing suggestions of sweet sherry. The sweet and the salty battle for supremacy but in the end they settle for parity in a balance that retains interest and vitality.

Finish

A strong distinctive finish that stays mostly at the front and sides of the tongue and lasts a long while.

Conclusion

This time the memory merely understated the quality - or the young tastebuds couldn’t yet appreciate it fully. I like this, a lot; better even than the Ardbeg and very close (though a rather different style) to the Caol Ila. It has something in common with Talisker in the rich complexity and saltiness. Perhaps a little more sherry and caramel than the Skye classic, perhaps not quite so many interwoven flavours, but very satisfying indeed. In my list of favourite standard single malts this has now taken a place in the top three - displacing Bowmore (which I’ll be reviewing next) and Highland Park - which is high praise indeed.

My only very slight concern is that any older versions might not be any better, as the sweet sherry flavours might take over, but I’ll happily try them out just in case!

I’m taking a little detour from my Islay survey to venture into Mike’s territory. Blair Atholl village is situated in the rolling hills of Perthshire. There is a famous castle and the village contains an old water powered grain mill. Along with Dunkeld, Pitlochry (which is actually where the distillery is) and the Pass of Killicrankie, I used to visit the area quite often, having fallen in love with it back in the days of Scout camps. It is a land of dark brown rivers running through narrow gorges surrounded by ancient woodlands and tales of heroism.

The whisky of the same name but slightly different spelling (only one l) is something of a rarity these days but my dad is a great fan of it and received a bottle which he passed on to me for tasting.

Blair Athol, 12 Year Old, 43%

Colour

Reminds me immediately of the dark rivers, it is a deep brown. (The distillery has its own burn, the Allt na Dour; and while I don’t remember what colour it is it’s a safe bet it’s brown.)

Nose

Gentle, dark peat but not too strong, a hint of wood bark.

Initial Taste

Malty, a little smoke, a touch of caramel but not too much. A nice balance.

Later taste

The taste develops as you progress down the glass. It becomes stronger and spicy to a degree. The smokiness also increases, like an old howf with a log fire in the grate.

Finish

A long satisfying finish that leaves you with a smoky caramel taste with a spicy kick.

Conclusion

This is a relaxing dram, not too challenging but with a quiet strength that would round off a fine day on the Perthshire hills or fishing the Tay.

Visiting details

In the course of research for my new Scottish Books website I came across a forthcoming book that’s likely to be of interest to many readers of this blog and particularly the Islay drinkers.

Whisky Dream is the story of the resurrection and development of Bruichladdich distillery and the impending revival of the long-closed Port Charlotte. It relates the efforts of Mark Reynier and his team of partners who made it all work, including Jim McEwan formerly of Bowmore, and their myriad adventures on the way, including the initial approaches to the multinational corporation who owned the distillery, the financial negotiations to raise the necessary capital, various unusual encounters along the way, the first new production runs of the distillery, and the battle to re-establish the brand in a competitive world marketplace.

There is a Youtube hosted video related to the book which can be seen on both the Whisky Dream book detail page on Books in Scotland or the publishers site - Birlinn - where you can place an order for it if you wish. It’s due out in July and priced at £9.99 and I’ll be reviewing it as soon as I can lay hands on a copy.