How do you buy whisky as a gift? Part 1

A little while ago we had a post by the name of, how doyou select wine? in which I expressed my dismay at how hard it can be to choose what wine to buy from your local supermarket. I contended that there is just too much choice.

As a result of that, it occurred to me that while I can’t provide much advice to you on buying wine, I might be just the right person to help a novice select a nice bottle of whisky, and with Christmas approaching, there has never been a better time to cover this subject.

Many is the time that I’ve seen a lost soul perusing the whisky section at Tesco, obviously trying to buy a gift for a whisky-loving or whisky-curious loved one but sadly having no terms of reference or idea of where to start. They’re aware that there are good and bad selections, but they don’t know what they are and are reluctant to make a mistake. Well, I’m here to help you out. You may be one of the people I’ve seen at Tesco already, so if you do want to buy your relative or special friend a nice bottle of whisky, take a sip of coffee and sharpen your reading eyes, this is for you.

Obstacles

There are two major obstacles facing the novice who wants to buy a bottle of whisky: variety and price, and how much help you need depends on what you know already – both about whisky and about the person you’re buying for.

Let’s do a role play. For the purpose of the drama, imagine you’re a lady (if you’re not already), you’re in Tesco, and you’re looking to buy your husband a nice bottle of whisky. I’m stood nearby and I notice you looking lost, but I don’t want to impose. You might think I’m trying to pick you up, but I’m happily married and not looking for a female whisky drinking companion. You look at me and can tell that I’m not necessarily there to buy. I’m just looking to see what they’ve got, and whether there are any offers I can’t refuse. I must know something about this subject.

You: It’s so confusing, all these different bottles.

Me: Eh? Oh, yeah I know. Are you buying a present?

You: Yeah, for my husband. I don’t suppose you could help?

Me: Aye, probably.

Pay attention here. I’m about to ask the important questions.

Me again: Is it whisky in particular that you’re after?

That wasn’t one. Just wait.

You: Yes. What would be a good one?

Me: That depends. What kind of whisky does he like?

You: What do you mean?

Me: Scotch, Irish, bourbon…

You: Scotch?

Me: Blended or single malt?

You: I don’t know…

Here you might ask what the difference is. If you did, I would say, “single malt refers to when a bottle contains whisky that was all made at one distillery, while a blend can contain whiskies from any number of distilleries and  50-60% of the contents are usually made up of grain whisky. Grain whisky is cheaper than malt whisky, and that is why blends tend to be cheaper than single malts. Single malt is usually considered to be better, though there are a number of premium blends for which you could pay well in excess of £100.

Me: What does he normally drink?

You: I’m pretty sure he’s had the Glenfiddich before.

Me: Ok, well that’s a single malt. If you’d said Bells or Teachers, those would be blends. Did he like the Glenfiddich?

You: I think so.

Me: The standard 12 year old is halfway decent, so if he liked it, you might want to step up a class and get the 15 year old. It’s a bit more expensive, but it’s supposed to be better, though I haven’t tried it.

Here’s the next important question.

Me: What’s your budget, if you don’t mind me asking?

You: I was hoping to spend about thirty quid.

If you know how much he normally spends, it might be a good idea to spend a little bit more. That way you’re increasing the treat because you’re getting him something he wouldn’t normally allow himself to buy.

Me: All right. You can get something decent for that 30 quid. If you’re lucky, you can get a good single malt, but you’re more likely to if you go 35 quid and up – it just depends what they’ve got. Or you can get a very good blend. Some people are snooty about blends, but there’s no need to be because some are very good. So, first thing; the cheapest single malt they’ve got here is the Glen Moray Classic. See that? £18. Don’t get that. Now, you said you don’t know what kind of scotch he likes,  it would be easier if you did, but we’ll work around that. Does he like the strong flavours or the mellow ones?

You: I’m not sure.

Me: All right. You could just get the Glenfiddich 12. It’s decent and it’s cheap, but I think you ought to be a bit more adventurous. For future reference, the Glenfiddich 12 is still a good scotch for a novice to buy as a present. If it was me though, looking to buy a bottle of whisky as a present, I would be getting the Highland Park 12. It’s single malt, it’s always on offer, even at full price it’s a bargain, it comes in a funky bottle, it tastes great and it’s known for being a quality product.

You: Oh right. That’s under budget.

Me: You can get yourself something nice with the change.

You: Thanks.

Me: No worries.

 

Highland Park 12... a great gift

That’s one way the scenario could play out. Let’s look at some other eventualities though:

What if they haven’t got the Highland Park, or it’s not on offer?

I’d always recommend going with an Islay malt. They’re among the most interesting and you can usually get a decent one in the under £35 price range – the Laphroiag 10, the Caol Ila 12, Bruichladdich… I even got the Lagavulin 16 for £35 once. If it says Islay on it, it’s probably going to be good. The only drawback is that some people really don’t like the Islay malts, but I think it’s worth the risk.

As I say, you can always fall back on the Glennfiddich 12. Some like the Glenlivet 12 or the Aberlour 10 – they’re classy enough, but a little generic for me.

Can you give me some general things to look for?

It’s a gift, so generally look for a single malt unless you know your target doesn’t like single malt. If you don’t know, go for it.

Always go for one with an age statement, and make sure it’s at least 10 years. Some younger whiskies are excellent, but you don’t know enough to take the risk. Some without an age statement are good, but ages are impressive – it’s psychological.

If it comes in a box, that also suggests quality. That’s not necessarily the case but again, this is a gift, so boxes are good. Something that comes in an interesting bottle is also good. Again, it doesn’t say anything about the quality, but with gifts half the battle is presentation.

What should I avoid?

Definitely avoid the Glen Moray Classic. That’s just from personal experience. Horrible. When I see people buying that, I want to ask “Have you had that before? Cos if you haven’t, don’t”. My personal feeling is to avoid anything that is too pale in colour – there are exceptions to that, but we’re talking generalities. Also avoid Jura – it’s always on offer, so a very popular gift, but in my opinion it’s not so good.

Now, just because I say ‘avoid the Glen Moray Classic’ that doesn’t mean all Glen Morays are bad. Similarly, you can pick up a no age statement Ledaig from some supermarkets that isn’t good. I consider the 10 year old to be very good though.

Don’t get Jack Daniels – unless you’re buying for a very young adult. That’s not to say it’s bad (I actually like it – very nice mouthfeel), but many scotch drinkers are a bit snooty about it, possibly because it is so commonly mixed with coke.

Definitely don’t get Southern Comfort. This is not whisky – and I’m not being facetious here; it literally isn’t whisky. It’s a peach liqueur with whisky flavouring. It’s surprising how many people don’t know that.

If you know your target is a seasoned whisky drinker, your task might be more difficult because their standards can be quite exacting, but don’t worry; I’ll be offering some advice for buying whisky for the more discerning drinker next week. Remember, when someone receives a gift though, they want to be pleasantly surprised, not slightly disappointed. For this reason I’d avoid brands that are a bit too obvious (and that the novice might have heard of or seen on average drinks menus in restaurants) – for me, the Glenlivet 10, Balvenie Double Wood, Glenfiddich 12 and the basic Glenmorangie are a bit too obvious, but you could definitely do worse.

What if your budget is more modest?

I would aim to set your budget around £30-35 because you can definitely do the job for that. Anyone who likes whisky is going to know you spent £30-35, and they’re going to be all the more grateful for it. I understand though, that if you’re buying a gift for a friend, £30 might seem a little steep. You might have been thinking £20. If you were, don’t panic, just don’t be thinking about getting a single malt – unless you want to buy a 35cl bottle. That’s perfectly acceptable. The recipient will still appreciate the effort – and of course, it means you can get something even more special.

However, don’t be scared of going for a blend. A lot of basic blends are good, but if you can just go up one step to the next level, you’re going to be more likely to get one that your target hasn’t tried, or that is a little more interesting. Grants, Whyte and MacKay, Ballantine’s and Dewar’s all make decent, reasonably priced blends, and there are many more obscure ones that are worth a pop. Even a whisky aficionado can find a use for a basic blend. I always keep one for the times when I just don’t feel like getting the special stuff out, or as a precursor earlier in the evening. If you can chance across one that they haven’t tried before, you will have done very well because at least that’s one they can tick off their mental list. But don’t get the Johnnie Walker Red, Bells, Teachers, Famous Grouse or anything that says “bottled for [insert supermarket]” on the label. Not that there’s necessarily anything particularly bad about any of those, but you are buying a gift.

Conclusion

That at least, would be my advice. People all like different things, and there are no right and wrong opinions when it comes to whisky. Personally though, I think some whiskies exist just because people don’t know what to buy, so they all make sales to some degree. I don’t know – would a business be able to survive on that principal? Surely you have to rely on repeat customers. As I get more into whisky though, I find I seldom buy any bottle more than once because there’s always more to try. Caol Ila does well out of me, because I’ve bought four of their expressions so far, and I always recommend it to friends. In fact, usually when I like a whisky, I remember it as one to possibly buy as a gift for a friend, rather than one to buy again for me.

Perhaps one day I will have tried nearly everything (in my price range), and will just want to buy something I like with my money. There was a time when I bought different beer every time I bought a pint or some cans. Now I just buy what I like – though I have gotten into trying IPAs recently. I’m a long way off reaching that point with whisky, so we’ll just have to see how and when things pan out.

So, now if you find yourself at Tesco, and if you can remember any of this, you’re going to do all right. You could also have a look at the Whisky Exchange for specific brands but remember; you’re not going to be able to find most of those in your local supermarket. Finally, don’t be afraid to ask if another customer looks like they know what they’re doing. It might be me, and even if it’s not, anyone who is enthusiastic about whisky is going to be delighted to be able to share a bit of the knowledge.

Good luck, and don’t forget to come back next week when I’ll be considering how you can buy with confidence for the whisky enthusiast in your family.

Postscript

Last Sunday my whisky advice fantasy almost came true. It was shopping day in the Cake household and, feeling a bit down, I thought adding a trip to Tesco to the regular Aldi shop in order to pick up a cut price Grant’s Sherry Cask Edition that I’d seen on offer the day before might cheer me up. A quick preparatory glance through my wallet and on the fridge revealed that we had £7 in vouchers – though we had to spend at least £40 to recoup one of them. Also in my favour was that I’d stashed £10 away in my booze budget, and then found a farewell fiver in the back pocket of my favourite jeans. I say “farewell fiver” because it was during that shopping trip that they developed a split in the back and threatened to show more and more bum cleavage every time I had to reach down to a low shelf…

Well, as you know, Christmas is approaching and Mrs Cake thought maybe she could get some whisky for her dad and brother… that sounds bad; they aren’t the same person. Yes, I would be delighted to help with that.

Mrs Cake isn’t really one for taking advice. She has her own mind you see, so it wasn’t as simple as me offering a suggestion and her taking it, but in the end she did follow my recommendations despite battling me all the way.

The Highland Park 12 was on offer, and I persuaded her that that would be a good choice for her dad, because it’s “excellent”. He doesn’t like peaty whiskies, and of the ones available in this price range, this was definitely the best choice in my opinion. He had said previously that he likes a 16 year old Glenmorangie, but they didn’t have that (it doesn’t seem to exist), and I doubt the price would have been anywhere near comparable (if it did exist).

Buying for the brother was a little trickier since I remembered he had wanted to drink the Crown Royal Black I took to his house a couple of years ago… with coke. So I maintained that we should get him something he can mix, and that meant a blend. Mrs Cake wanted to get something they wouldn’t be able to get in Canada, but in Tesco there isn’t really anything you couldn’t get in Canada. I advised her to go for the Grant’s Ale Cask Edition as that was on offer too. I don’t actually know what that one is like yet, but it is a step up (price-wise) from the standard Family Reserve and therefore makes a slightly better present than a standard cheap blend. I don’t think Brian is all that knowledgeable about scotch anyway, so we didn’t need to stress to much about it… though I suppose that remains to be seen. Perhaps I’ll follow up this post after Christmas and let you know how we did. To be fair, I probably won’t know how we did for the father-in-law until next year when he sends the bottle back hoping we won’t notice it’s the one we bought him. And if that happened… I would be delighted...

Glencairn glasses; I can smell things too!

well spotted. One of these is not a Glencairn glass. So?

I’d like to revisit a theme now that last cropped up in my Am I becoming a bit of a snob? post – the question of whisky glasses. I had started to bemoan the fact that whenever you order whisky in a pub, it seems to come in either what are known as ‘rocks’ glasses or even in small straight glasses – like what you’d normally expect to receive with a bottle of J2O.

Whisky though, is renowned for being a very complex spirit that can impart a huge variety of scents and flavours, yet the kinds of glass that most people seem to begin their whisky journeys drinking out of don’t facilitate the experiencing of this complex spirit to the full. Anyone who’s anyone in the world of whisky knows that there exists a glass that supposedly will help you make the most of your whisky tasting experience – the Glencairn glass, which first came into production in 2001, so quite recently.

This blog has up to this point been a journey of discovery for me, so that should explain some of my naïve questions and opinions. I’ve been somewhat sceptical of all those things people report experiencing in their whisky because I just enjoy whisky, and a part of me wanted to continue doing that without having to get all finicky about details like glasses and techniques, and am I tasting what you’re tasting and all that. The other part just felt like a teenager that had discovered a new favourite band and wanted to absorb all their recordings and discover their influences, and just immerse themselves in it.

When I heard about the Glencairn glass (£6.90 on Amazon – why are they not available in like, John Lewis or Debenhams or Ikea?), it didn’t really occur to me that there was any point in getting one, but then, as you might have read in previous weeks, I visited some distilleries in Islay, and not only did all the tastings involve Glencairn glasses, but also they were just throwing them at me, so I came home with five – branded with Lagavulin, Laphroaig and Caol Ila. Honestly, you get more of these in one day on Islay than you get napkins in two visits to a fried chicken joint – here’s your massive box of greasy chicken that you have to eat with your fingers, and here’s one single play napkin the size of a postage stamp.

Can I have some more napkins, please?

No.

I decided it was time to put the glasses the test, and started using them. Now I can give you the results of my experiments.

So how good are they? Well, let’s get some aesthetic and practical considerations out of the way first. They are small, and they aren’t exactly masculine. Nor are they particularly comfortable to drink out of, since my nose gets in the way when I tip one back, which means I also need to tip my head back.

However, they are comfy to hold – they sit nicely between my index finger and thumb, and the base then sits pleasingly on my curled middle finger. You can swirl your spirit vigorously around the glass, and it doesn’t spill out the top as it might in certain other shapes and styles, and the bulb shape makes it easy to pour a suitably sized measure consistently without having to use a measuring cup; should you be concerned about such things, just pour until the liquid reaches the point where the curve begins to turn back on itself. And despite having to tip your head back a bit, the shape facilitates getting just the right quantity smoothly into your mouth for enjoying.

The important considerations though are:

                Is there any improvement in terms of nosing my whisky?

                Does it make the whisky taste any better?

I’m not going to keep you waiting here; the answer to both of those questions is a resounding yes. Seriously. They are not making this shit up.

I think there might be a tiny element of the immersion in scotch on the Island of Islay having a positive influence on my enjoyment of whisky overall, but I now feel that these Glencairn glasses really help me to enjoy my whisky to the fullest extent. Let me give you some examples.

Firstly, I’ve never really been able to identify any individual scents or tastes in the whisky I’ve drunk beyond smoky, salty, peppery – to me those are very basic. When it comes to blackberries, chocolate, honey - I don’t know, some people can find anything in there – I was all at sea. Straight away though, I started finding things.

The first whisky I tried on my return home from Islay was my Balvenie 12 year old, double wood (40% ABV), earlier impressions on which you can find here and here. Immediately, on the nose I detected liquorice and vanilla, while on the palate I could taste oak, mint and (later – not on the same occasion) strawberries. I went from being non-plussed about this malt to being im-pressed in just a couple of tastings.

With the last of my Grant and MacPhail bottling of Scapa (43% ABV), I got tobacco on the nose and citrus on the palate. Sadly that was it, there was none left to analyse any further – but that’s still a massive improvement.

Next I moved on to my Woodford Reserve bourbon (43.2% ABV) and found caramel and dark chocolate on the nose, with sweet apple juice on the palate that actually took me right back to a school trip to the Jorvik Centre in York, where part of the tour takes you through a strong smell of apples that is supposed to represent the Vikings’ cultivation of orchards.

The most I’ve experienced in a single glass so far comes from a bottle of 10 year old Bladnoch (46% ABV). It’s a real delicate and mellow scotch that doesn’t give away its above average strength, and on the nose for that one I got something quite weird. It was incredibly familiar, but I couldn’t quite pin down what it was at first. Finally it came to me; ice cream cake, like your friend’s mum used to serve at birthday parties. I know, it sounds silly. Perhaps that’s the vanilla that everyone’s always finding. Then there was tobacco, and later, cheese – though not as strongly as Bruichladdich’sOrganic expression.

The palate was spicy and contained a hint of orange, followed by chocolate truffle.

Finally I was starting to see what everyone was talking about – not because I had to really strain and grasp in order to convince myself that I could detect these things, but because they were just sitting there at the top of my Glencairn glass, and (inexplicably) on my tongue. How the glass could possibly affect the overall flavour, I don’t know – perhaps this is the Islay immersion’s effect – but all I know is that I definitely noticed a difference.

Oddly though the cagiest whisky I’ve tried so far in terms of giving up distinct scents or flavours is my Caol Ila Distillers Edition that I’ve been enjoying immensely. It’s sweet like nectar, but I’m getting nothing familiar from it – excepting the mellow peatiness that causes it to act like God’s own room odouriser, and on my 6^th or 7^th tasting, a mild suggestion of sizzling bacon.

Previously I simply enjoyed whisky (among other spirits) very much, but the Glencairn glass has opened up a whole new layer of possibilities for me to explore, and that’s pretty exciting, so I’m not exaggerating when I say I’m delighted. However, in some small way, the universal laws of physics are reflected here, in that there have turned out to be drawbacks – perhaps not to the point of an equal and opposite reaction, but just drawbacks.

Firstly, you can forget about enjoying a nice glass of whisky on a night out anymore. You’ll just be throwing your money away, paying over the odds for something that you’re not going to get the full benefit from.

It’s getting a bit silly really. I was thinking about buying a half bottle in the Duty Free at Manchester Airport to take to Vietnam with me, and I started thinking, but they won’t have the right type of glasses in Vietnam… Honestly, what a geek.  Did it anyway.

Secondly, these glasses only seem to work with whisky. I’ve tried my 20 year old Armagnac, my 10 Cane rum ,and my Blanc e Neri grappa and neither of them has benefitted in the slightest, which only goes to reinforce the supposition that whisky is the most complex spirit there is. Previously I loved all kinds of spirits, but now I can’t help feeling that in some way they are all inferior to whisky, and that maybe this matters. And that’s no way to be!

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, I feel like so much of my whisky tasting up to now has been a waste of time, and that perhaps I need to try so many of them all over again – the Black Grouse, Aldi’s Highland Black, definitely the Highland Park 12 year old. Whether it’s because I think maybe I didn’t like them when I might have, or whether it’s a case of if it was that good, imagine how good it could be… it doesn’t matter; I’ve wasted so much time! And money! And words!

Ah, whaddaya gonna do? Life goes on, so get on with it. Whisky is awesome with or without fancy glasses. If you want to know exactly how awesome it can be though, just get one. Totally worth it.

Home tasting like a boss

One Friday night in the not so distant past, I thought it might be nice to conduct a tasting of all the whiskies I then had available, and now it’s time to give you an overview of the method and results.

get stuck in

As you can imagine, the main outcome was that it was a lot of fun. The five whiskies that you can see in the picture there were comprised of one blended scotch (Dewar’s 12 year old, double aged, 40% ABV), one Irish single pot still (Green Spot, 40% ABV), one Speyside single malt (Balvenie 12 year old, double wood, 40% ABV), one Orkney single malt (Gordon and MacPhail’s bottling of Scapa, distilled 2001, 43% ABV) and one Islay single malt (Caol Ila 18 year old, 43% ABV).

Due to a number of consecutive breakages I only had one of the glasses left that I have taken to drinking whisky out of, so I had to adapt my practices for this experiment, and got out five of these almost spherical rocks glasses. I know they’re not ideal, but they’re not that bad at holding aromas. The main problem is that they are slightly too large to hold comfortably, and slightly too heavy.

I poured [slightly more than] a little dribble of a different whisky into each glass and carried them through to the living room, where Mrs Cake immediately voiced her displeasure at seeing so much whisky queuing up for tasting in one go – as if this is something I do all the time. No; this was the first time – and it was the weekend. It doesn’t mean I won’t do it again when I have 5 other different whiskies to taste, but actually, the last time I did anything even slightly like this was probably around a year ago when I had 3 bottles of vodka in all at the same time. So cool yer boots, missy!

To be fair, she kind of had a point; it did turn out that there was far more whisky there than I had anticipated. There’s got to be enough to get a good taste though, hasn’t there?

The first thing I learned – and probably the most useful thing – was that in terms of analysis, I believe I got more value by tasting multiple whiskies at once in whatever order I fancied, than I usually get by just drinking one after the other, one at a time. I found that the differences in nose and on the palate helped me to ascertain and analyse what those differences were – because each whisky gives some kind of reference point by which to judge the others. I haven’t seen any whisky experts explicitly recommend this method before, so maybe it’s not the done thing, but as your attorney, I recommend you try this next time you have a chance. If you just drink one after the other, you can only compare each to the last, but if you mix and match, you can build up a complex comparative picture – this one is peatier than that one, but not than that one, this one is fruitier, this is oilier etc, etc…

So; down to the nitty-gritty then.

Being aware that generally you should taste Islay malts last as they have more [let’s say] aggressive flavours that can linger on the palate and affect your judgement of succeeding whiskies, I decided to let the Caol Ila sit it out, untouched at the end of the queue until all the other glasses had been drained – as a kind of treat to round off the experiment. Would it be a case of save the best till last?

I didn’t add water to any of these, since I figured at 40 and 43%, none were really strong enough to warrant watering down. Certain whiskies supposedly develop with water, but not only have I never had that particular experience myself (I can always taste the water - except when drinking cask strength bottlings), it would also have made the comparison harder to conduct in just this one sitting.

Interesting things I noticed

The most interesting thing, other than my tasting experience being enhanced by tasting numerous whiskies at once, was that for the first time ever I was able to pick out different component aromas and flavours from some of the samples. Not that many, to be brutally honest, but some, and some is an improvement on none, and demonstrates a development in my tasting faculties.

In the Balvenie for example, I noticed a very hoppy aroma – like when you walk past a pub first thing on a Sunday morning. In contrast, Green Spot, was very fruity in the nose. Balvenie, as I said in my recent On the Nice List post, really reveals its complexities and shows its worth when compared alongside other whiskies – as, it turns out, does Green Spot. So again, both did quite well here. I’ve yet to derive much enjoyment from this expression of Balvenie on its own (unlike Green Spot), but perhaps that will come with time (bear with me and watch this space…)

 

I provisionally ranked the contestants for fragrance – just out of interest really – but unfortunately I made my notes on an old envelope that has since been lost. All I remember is that surprisingly the Scapa came out as least fragrant and the Caol Ila as most but, you know, Caol Ila literally jumps out of the glass - and then tries to smother you (in a good way, of course, like a lovely bosom let’s say).

On the palate, as real whisky aficionados say, all the whiskies performed well. I didn’t think it would be fair to say this blend is inferior to that single malt when the samples were drawn from a number of different ages, regions and styles, so I decided early on that there would be no overall winners and losers. If you’re satisfied with them all, let’s leave it at that.

I would like to say though, that the Dewar’s measured up nicely alongside some renowned and some expensive whiskies. It was probably the least complex and classy of those on offer… but it was the only blend, and the cheapest (though not particularly cheap for a blend). If the test had comprised more blends at or below the Dewar’s end of the price spectrum, I have a feeling it might have fared very well – though I suppose that remains to be seen, and would depend on which other blends they were!

If there was any disappointment at all, it was that Scapa didn’t distinguish itself as much as I thought it might. I consider it to be a well balanced whisky, but it paled in comparison to the others – no unpleasant flavours, but no outstanding pleasant ones either.

Similarly, Caol Ila’s 18 year old – while still an enjoyable malt – didn’t go on to outperform the others as I had expected (and secretly hoped) it would. At this stage it is looking like the 12 year old expression is superior, and far superior value at half the price of its older, sweeter tasting brother.

To be fair, most of these bottles still have a long way to go I’m sure, before they have finished revealing their mysteries to me. As ever, I’ll let you know if I have any other particularly interesting impressions as I go along. The tasting proved to be a fun way to spend a Friday night at home, as well as a satisfying one. Let’s hope I have occasion to do it again soon(ish).

Before I go, I suppose I should give you a bit of a heads-up as to what’s to come in the short term. I’ll have a post for you next Friday as usual, but after that I’ll be on holiday for a couple of weeks, so it will be complete radio silence I’m afraid.  I’ll try to get a post up on 19 April, but no guarantees at this point.

The missus and I are actually going on what we are calling “Honeymoon Part 2”, to Vietnam. Hopefully that will give me plenty of things to write future posts about. I’m particularly looking forward to getting hold of some Mekong Whisky, and hoping to find some decent Japanese malts in the Duty Free. If not… I’m sure I’ll find something in the Duty Free… I figured also that I’d pick something up at Manchester Airport on the way out, so that I’ve got something to accompany me for the duration. I’m looking forward to that, too!

Then there’s  all the other things that there are to look forward to, but they’re not relevant to this blog, so I’ll leave it here. For now, have yourself a great weekend, and see you next week.

On the nice list; Balvenie and Scapa

Christmas is long past now, but a few things came out of the period that I wanted to talk about, so before it becomes even more irrelevant than it already is, here’s one of them.

One of the best things about Christmas for the booze-hound, is the prospect of receiving a new bottle that you didn’t have to buy yourself – i.e a gift. My friend John is in the enviable position of doling out projects to building contractors, and as such can expect several bottles of whisky from them each year. I’m sure there’s nothing dodgy about that at all.

While I’m not so blessed as to be the director of a large government funded organisation, I’m usually quite lucky at Christmas time, and tend to end up with two or three bottles once Father Christmas has been - and the magic lube that enables him to insert himself in your chimney - even when you haven’t got one, but instead have a gas fire… has settled. I must be on the nice list, though I can’t think why…

This year was no exception. Father Christmas obviously didn’t mind that I drank the bottle of Sol that had been left out for him by my brother-in-law and young nephews, because he still brought me a bottle of the Balvenie 12 year old, ‘double wood’ (40% ABV), and a Gordon and MacPhail bottling of Scapa (2001, 43% ABV). It was an honest mistake on my part; I thought the beer had been left out for me. I was a little suspicious as to why there was a cookie and a carrot there, but I didn’t want those, so I left them. Here’s some information and first impressions then of both my new distilled brethren.

Balvenie first: Father Christmas had brought me a bottle of this before, several years ago and I remember not being all that impressed. I was glad of a chance to try again though, since back then I was still taking my scotch with ice, so I couldn’t really have had any idea of what it is really like. I’m not being a snob; that’s just a fact. Given my first impression though, it meant I was unlikely to ever buy myself a bottle – short of seeing an absolute bargain. So a gift is just the ticket! You should be able to find this for around 30 quid. The Signature Edition is supposed to be better, by the way, and that’s about £5 more.

As I say, it’s 12 years old, aged for most of that time in ‘whisky’ barrels (no further information about those specified), and then finished for a few months in sherry casks. It’s a nice dark colour, and comes in a satisfyingly chunky bottle.

I’ve had a couple of tries of it by now, and I’m still undecided. The first taste was on our return home from Christmas with the family, and I’m thinking my taste buds must have been fried because I couldn’t taste anything. It was weird – it didn’t even taste like whisky, no matter how long I held it in my mouth and chewed it.

Then there was another unremarkable tasting before I took the bottle to our friends’ house for a takeaway night. Paul had bottles of Famous Grouse and Glenmorangie in already, so we each had a tasting of the three whiskies, side by side. We took a look at them first, before tasting them blindly.

I don’t think I’ve ever bought a bottle of The Famous Grouse, but Paul says it’s the only brand his dad will drink, so if anyone ever buys him anything else for Christmas, he just gives it away. I have had it, mind; it’s like the standard one that you get in miniatures on airlines.

In comparison to the Balvenie, the Glenmorangie and Famous Grouse were similarly pale, and in terms of taste, both were bland and watery. Paul and I both identified these two the wrong way round, but there wasn’t much to choose between them, and I think we assumed the better tasting one must be Glenmorangie, when it actually wasn’t. Their insipidness made the Balvenie seem complex and rich in comparison. We couldn’t be sure though, whether the Glenmorangie had been compromised in some way by sitting in Paul’s dad’s cupboard – perhaps on its side for some time, since Paul told me the cork had atrophied, and he had sealed it with one of those wine stoppers, but it didn’t fit properly.

As far as the Balvenie was concerned, this was encouraging and made me look forward to trying it again in more peaceful and serene circumstances. As ever, further tastings await, but I have decided the next one will be a full comparative test with all the other whiskies I currently have at my disposal – 5 in all (which seemed a lot until I met Andy from Manchester Whisky Club – 44!), but I’m looking forward to that tasting nevertheless. You’ll be able to read about how that went sooner rather than later – maybe next week, maybe the week after – so keep coming back.

The other bottle then, was the Gordon and MacPhail bottling of Scapa. Mrs Cake tells me that this one was recommended to Father Christmas by the people at the Reserve wine shop in West Didsbury, and you should be able to pick it up for around £35.

Gordon and MacPhail are merchants, and the way that works, is that merchants buy quantities of new make whisky direct from the distillery, then it can be aged either at the distillery, or by the merchant, in their own barrels. Presumably the merchant then decides how long it is aged for, and in what kind of barrels. I’m unclear at this point, as to whether they then blend different barrels of the spirit to achieve the desired effect, or whether all the contents come from the same barrel. It probably depends. Lots to learn.

 

So this particular bottle is from Orkney’s Scapa distillery. It was distilled in 2001, and bottled in 2012, so that could potentially have been aged for between 11 and 12 years, depending on exact dates (I don’t think I’ve ever heard of an 11 year old whisky…). How strictly do they stick to dates? Do they age for exactly 12 years, or do they just go with roughly 12 years? They probably blend from a variety to get it tasting right. The rule, after all, is that the age statement has to correspond with the youngest whisky that was used, so some will be 12 years and 2 months, some maybe even a year or more older than the statement. When the bottle states ‘distilled in 2001, bottled in 2012’ though, you can be sure there’s going to be nothing older in it.

Scapa is a er… pale yellowy colour, but it’s presented quite nicely. The fancy box it comes in has two gaping holes in it, so that you can see the labels on the front and back of the bottle. That’s all very well, but I presume that cancels out the practical considerations of a whisky box, which are to protect it from sunlight, should you not have room in your cupboard. I don’t think it’s important anyway. Supposedly if you leave whisky in direct sunlight it can turn cloudy, though this effect isn’t irreversible. It probably doesn’t matter if it’s chill filtered, and I suspect that since this is bottled at 43% ABV, it probably is chill filtered. It would probably say if it wasn’t, since that’s considered a good thing among enthusiasts.

Only one tasting of this whisky has taken place so far, this time at the home of some other friends (Phil and Laura), where we spent New Year’s Eve, drinking, eating, and dancing around like idiots – not even noticing midnight, when it came around. Not much to report then as yet, but I was suitably impressed – it seems like a classy whisky to me, though certainly not as interesting as the Lagavulin 16 that I’d given Phil for his birthday.  Let’s hope my fondness for the Scapa develops and deepens in the weeks to come.

That’s it for now, but don’t worry if you feel like you’ve been left hanging a little there; I do have plans to update you on impressions from future tastings, and there have been developments, they will just be part of a whole host of different posts dealing with my various experiences in alcothusiasm, rather than in any dedicated review of a single bottle. It is, after all, a blog, not an encyclopaedia or review compendium. And I ain’t no expert either way. Just sharing a bit of the love.

Before I go, I did have a whole weekend related newsletter for you, but since I didn’t get to post this before the weekend, it’s all irrelevant, so never mind. Instead, I hope your working week isn’t too painful. Join me back here on Friday evening for another post. Until then, remember you can follow me on Twitter, @alcothusiast.

You can even taste whisky on the internet...

Good evening everybody. It’s a rare Thursday post for me this week, since tomorrow I’m hoping to be heading to a secluded cottage in North Wales straight after work (weather permitting), so there won’t be time for any of this blogging nonsense – just time to pick up a bag and grab a few bottles of hooch to keep the missus and I warm.

Shall we get on with it then? This week’s post is a collection of a few random and some specific thoughts in relation to the Manchester Whisky Club’s recent online twitter tasting. Here we go.

Prior to the first physical meeting of the newly formed Manchester Whisky Club (due later this month), we first had a Thursday night Twitter tasting. Thursday is the new Friday, and indeed a great time to drink whisky - hey! It's Thursday tonight! Excuse me... [squeeeeak, pop, pour, sniff, sip, aaaaah!] 

Club founder Andy had already provided each member with two mystery drams that had arrived in the post, all mummified in bubblewrap and sellotape, and finally, after about 2 months of them sitting there in my booze cupboard, it was time to take them out and put them in glasses. Exciting times.

This would actually be my first ever whisky tasting of any kind – other than those that have just been me, in my house, tasting whiskies, occasionally with one or two friends there – and an excellent chance to get some kind of impression of what the club and its members would be like – not to mention finally finding out what this whole Twitter jobbie was all about.

You may remember in my earlier Manchester WhiskyClub post that I was wondering if there would be any female members. Well, there are. I have to admit to being a little surprised – pleasantly, I might add. No, I’m not looking for any [happily married, thanks for asking, and there’s only room for one whisky drinker in my house], but it’s a relief that this pursuit isn’t going to be one of those things that only men do – like golf. You see women playing golf, but you can’t help thinking; why are they playing golf? Not that they shouldn’t – in spite of what some of my friends might say. No, it’s just a bit weird.

There weren’t too many members joining us for the tasting (I’m not going to check, but I think it was 6-9), but I’m going to say it was a successful first event. I’m sure everyone had a lot of fun, and I think Andy has got to be optimistic about how this whole thing is going to pan out. It was a nice group of people, and I’m sure everyone enjoyed it.

What happened then, was that we all gathered around our computers with our tasting glasses, logged into Twitter just before 7pm, and waited for it to begin. I poured both of my samples into glasses at the same time, just to let those aromas develop a little.

I got my Dulux colour cards out ahead of time, and tried to see if I could find a match for each sample. Sample 1 was very pale, and mapped very tidily to ‘Desert Island 4’, while sample 2, easily the darker of the two, turned out to be one of the few shades Dulux haven’t mastered yet. There are no photos to show you of that, but if it doesn’t make sense, check this earlier post for a bit of context.

After a brief welcome then, we got started on the nosing of sample 1. Being hopeless at nosing, I wasn’t able to identify any smells in particular, but everyone else had a damn good go, and I found it quite educational, just seeing what they had to say.

I think I moved on to the actual tasting way ahead of everyone else, but whaddayagonna do? I was ready. There was something very familiar about it that I couldn’t quite place. It was soft, oily and mouthcoating – very classy, but perhaps one that I might not have appreciated fully in the past. Light and summery, I believe was the consensus among the other members.

All my impressions soon made sense when its identity was revealed; Speyside’s anCnoc 12 year old. I had had it before; I remember Mrs Cake buying me a bottle one Saturday when I was in a foul mood. I think we’d had a disagreement, and she was trying to cheer me up. It’s not related, of course, but it was the same day she bought her dad a bottle of Ledaig 10 year old. She took it to Canada for him, where he had one taste and decided he didn’t like it, before sending it back with her for me. I thought it was delicious.

I couldn’t recall being so fond of the anCnoc on previous occasions, but it was well over a year ago, and it’s only just over a year ago that I stopped putting ice in my whisky. This is definitely one to get again some time.

We spent half an hour on the first dram. I was finished well in advance, and couldn’t wait to get started on number 2. On nosing it struck me as being quite complex, but I couldn’t detect anything in particular. While the others participants showed me up with mentions of vanilla, caramel and spice, I got into the tasting.

Salty at first, I found that it developed as I allowed it to sit on my tongue before finishing with a touch of (not unpleasant) bitterness at the end. Very different to the first, but in my opinion no worse for it. I couldn’t actually decide which I preferred (possibly the 1st, but I’d need a few more tastes to be sure).

On the reveal I learned something that I’d been meaning to test for some time – that I can’t necessarily tell a blend from a single malt. I always thought it would be easy due to the bitter grain taste – which perhaps explains the slight bitterness on the finish of this 2nd dram. However, the bitterness was not even out of the ordinary for some single malts, and the complexity and smoothness was unlike any blend I’ve found up to now. There were also reports that a drop of water would eliminate the bitterness, but I wasn’t really bothered about trying that.

This 2nd sample then was the 13 year old Whyte and Mackay which should retail around £20. That’s damn good value. It actually reminded me of the 12 year old Balvenie, though I was pretty sure it wasn’t that, as I actually liked the sample immediately.

Yeah, I’m struggling to get into that Balvenie. I kind of feel it’s like a puzzle that I have to solve, and for that reason, if I don’t know which of my whiskies to dip into on any occasion, that’s the one I’ve been going for.

Whisky probably shouldn’t be like a puzzle, should it? You should just be able to enjoy it. Puzzles are good too though – as long as you can solve them. Otherwise they leave you with feelings of inadequacy. I don’t think it’s as important to get the Balvenie as it would be to be able to finish a Sudoku puzzle though. My feeling on Sudoku is always, what’s the point, why don’t you just read a book? But I’d really want to be able to finish one if I ever started one in the first place.

Come to think of it, I did start one once, but just decided it was stupid before I wasted too much time on it. I ask you; putting numbers in boxes. Tsk.

Once again, time will tell and presumably, thanks to joining the Manchester Whisky Club, tastes will develop. I’ve got a lot of tastings to attend over the next 12 months, so as ever, I’ll keep you posted.

So that’s it for now. Check back next week, when I’m planning to return to the subject of distilled pomace, and describing what happened when I tasted a budget grappa alongside a very cheap orujo. Not to be missed, I’m sure.

Have a great weekend, and don’t forget you can now follow me on Twitter - @alcothusiast.

Laters.