Spirit Log: Aberlour A'bunadh, Batch 47

“Straight from the cask”, is the enticing claim from the packaging of this highly renowned Speyside malt. That’s a bit misleading though, isn’t it? Because A’Bunadh is a no age statement expression, said (by Wikipedia) to be blended from spirit aged between 5 and 25 years. So what cask is it bottled straight from, then? Not the one it was aged in – I mean, I presume there was some kind of marrying process, otherwise they would’ve had to take a bottle round all the various casks, fill it up a little from each, then shake it up. I suspect it just means ‘no water added’ – so it’s just a fancy way of saying ‘cask strength’ that makes it sound like it is single cask. When it isn’t.

Well, let’s leave that aside. What else is there to know about this expression? It is released in batches, is non-chill filtered, aged exclusively in Spanish Oloroso sherry casks, and bottled at a varying cask strength – this one a stroke inducing 60.7%.

My procurement matrix had determined that it was time to buy a cask strength Speyside malt, and Aberlour A’bunadh’s reputation and its inclusion in 101 Whiskies to Try Before You Die gave it the edge. I paid just under £40 plus P&P from The Whisky Exchange.

It is presented in a cardboard tube, inside which you’ll find an elegant bottle that doesn’t actually look like it’s big enough to hold the full 70cl. It is topped with an oversized cork and sealed with a deep-red waxy seal. The contents gleam a beautiful deep red colour.

My previous experience of Aberlour consists only of the 10 year old, which I remember was classy and luxurious in its composition, but a little disappointing in flavour. I always felt it could [should] have been so much more.

So what about this one?

This represents my latest delving into the welcoming waters of cask strength scotch, and having read a variety of online reviews, I was intrigued to find that some people prefer to drink this one unadulterated. The idea that a spirit of more than 60% can be at its best at full strength makes the heart positively palpitate in anticipation…

So I struggled with the seal (don’t trim your finger nails before reaching for this one), popped the cork and poured a glass.

…aaaaaaand, first impressions were that it does wear its extreme strength very well. I don’t feel dizzy from the nosing and my nose hairs [sadly] remain unburnt – no need to cancel that order for tweezers after all. And on the palate, yes there is burn, but it is indeed palatable in its natural state. There is burn, but it doesn’t taste burnt.

I began to add drops of water in any case. With each drop, more emerged, the solution sweetened and brightened and, ultimately, I ended up adding quite a lot of water before it reached the critical point at which I felt any more might be detrimental – in fact it is so strong and takes so much water that you end up with a really big drink – which is even better. So I wouldn’t say I agree that it is best without. You can drink it at cask strength, but only for a couple of sips per glass before I’d say you’re wasting it.

Where does it fit in though, in the general scheme of er… whisky?

Well, once again I find myself in the position of wondering why I’m not more impressed than I am. So many good reviews, so highly rated and yet… it’s all right, but it doesn’t blow my mind. There have been moments when I have enjoyed a glass very much, but those have been rare in comparison to moments when I’ve remained unmoved. Does this mean anything? Am I just expecting too much? It is only a sensory experience after all. I have to remind myself that my opinion of the Aberlour 10 and indeed Speyside malts in general has tended to be “nonplussed”.

A quick glance at my geeky spreadsheet reveals that in the simple “Like” column for the Aberlour 10, I’ve actually written ‘no’. It was a while ago, but I suspect my thinking was that while I didn’t actively dislike it, in a scale that included only the variables “like” and “dislike”, it seemed a bit unfair to belittle the efforts of malts that had genuinely impressed me by categorising it alongside them. I see I’ve also etched “no” next to the Glenlivet 12. I’ve then dismantled the scale altogether to register the fact that I hated the Glen Moray classic. I’m nothing if not inconsistent.

Elsewhere in terms of Speyside however, the Glenfiddich 12, Glenfiddich 15 Solera Vat, Balvenie 12 Double Wood, Mortlach 15 and Strathisla 12 have all met with a general approval, yet  in spite of that, in no single case have I been remarkably impressed.

It is hard to decide at this point where the A’bunadh would sit on the overall single malt hierarchy. It does have the potential to at least place higher than all the other Speysiders, but I am going to need a little more from it before I make a decision like that.

So can you take anything away from this? Certainly if you already like Aberlour or Speyside in general – and perhaps veer more toward the sherried stylings of the Balvenie or Strathisla, you can conclude that this is an avenue to divert some future pennies down. Let’s face it, it is beautifully packaged, it’s an impressive strength, and it’s terrific value. There’s also a chance of course that the next batch might be better – though there’s nothing about this one that would suggest it is a bad or even unexceptional batch.  No, my feeling is it just ain’t quite my thing, so it’s unlikely I’ll buy myself another one, but I’d definitely consider it as a gift for someone else. And that’s ok. What’s next?

Postscript

Since writing that I have finished the bottle and would just like to add a note without impinging too much on the integrity of the prose above. I stand by everything I said up there but feel it is worth mentioning that the bottle seemed to outstay its welcome. And by that, I mean I was ready to be finished with it about four large glasses from the end, at which point I pulled it out of the cupboard more frequently and even chugged down the final glass. Oddly, I enjoyed that last glass quite a lot. I wouldn’t normally treat a glass of single malt with such abandon, but there you go.

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...

What can I do with this bottle of... Scotch?

Happy new year everybody! It’s a sad time around here – after 14 whole days off that went by in a supersonic alcohol-fuelled instant, it’s time to be getting back to work. Of course, returning to work is horrible any time you have more than a standard weekend off, it’s just that 14 days is a long time to have passed by so quickly. The best bit is the whole period from the beginning to the time when you realise there will actually be a day soon when you have to go back to work. Being able to forget about work altogether is wonderful, but it just makes it worse for those last few days when you start counting the minutes, and doing as little as possible, hoping that it will make time go slower. And now it’s back to the endless cycle of looking forward to every coming weekend.

I did have a whole new year’s eve themed post planned, but I barely even got near a computer in my time off, so while it was written, I never got around to posting it. It seems a bit irrelevant now, so I may just lift a few things from it for upcoming posts – or save it till next year.

Yes, the missus and I spent the entire holiday drunk and recovering from being drunk. It was certainly never the intention, but I think I ended up drinking every single day except New Year’s Day itself. I had planned to have a drink that evening, figuring it would be necessary to make me feel better, but by the time evening came, I felt so ill I could barely keep the Chinese takeaway down that I’d been looking forward to all fricking day. One day we even drank all day, from breakfast to bedtime, but more on that another time.

I’ll be going on a bit of a detox now then, I think. I’ve actually made myself sick of booze, which isn’t good news for you – assuming you like the blog. By the time you read this, a couple of days will have passed though, and I should be back to my booze-craving best. I wouldn’t worry too much; the festive period did provide a few more things for me to write about, but we’ll get to those later no doubt.

Without any further prevarication then, let’s get on to this week’s post.

It’s been a while since we’ve had a “What can I do with this bottle of…?” feature, so it’s about time I think, for a new one.

Now, in case I haven’t made it blatantly obvious in previous posts, I like scotch. But that doesn’t mean I have to like all scotch. In fact, I have come to the conclusion that some scotch is bad. I’ll bet you knew that already. Nevertheless, if you did happen to come into possession of a bottle of scotch that you can’t glean any enjoyment from on its own, what can you do with it, short of giving it to the red nosed old man at the bus stop? And I don’t mean Father Christmas. The one sitting by the pile of sick. That one.

Well, this post has been in construction for quite some time, so we’ll be meeting a few different brands in our experiments, and I’m actually going to structure this post by brand, just to make it a bit less messy. To be fair, most of these brands aren’t actually what I’d call bad scotch. Some are ok, some are even pretty good, but all were pretty much the worst scotch I had available at the time of each experiment. Let’s get started, shall we?

Avoid!

Glen Moray Classic

That bit I said before about some of the scotches not actually being bad: this is the one that actually is bad. Really bad. Sorry to my friend who bought me this as a birthday present. Your intentions were honourable, and I sure appreciate the effort, but this is the worst scotch I have ever tasted, and it’s a single malt at that. In fact, it’s the cheapest single malt I’ve seen in the shops so far (around £17), and it’s cheaper than two of the blends that are coming up later in the post.

Glen Moray is an insipid urine colour and has a prominent metallic taste that lingers long past its welcome. Some might call that a ‘finish’, but the only good place for a metallic finish is on a new car. Good points? It has a cork rather than a screw cap, so at least it sounds good when you open it. You should probably always be wary of single malt scotch that doesn’t carry an age statement – unless it’s cask strength, let’s say.

After a few attempts of drinking it on its own, I tried a couple of experiments. First, the Whisky Mac, which is simply scotch with a splash of ginger wine. You can read a little bit more about that drink here. I’m not massively into ginger I’m afraid, and despite it being a strong flavour, it couldn’t prevent that metallic taste from the Glen Moray cutting right through. This was the only occasion I can remember this year of actually throwing a drink down the sink, rather than have to finish it. If I’m only going to have one drink this evening, I said to myself, I don’t want it to be this one.

This next drink, I first tried with one of my other blends, but I’ll come to that shortly. It was successful with that one, so I thought I’d give it a try with Glen Moray, and surprisingly the results were pleasing here, too.

the soft touch family

The Soft Touch is 1 measure of whisky, half a measure of London dry gin and half a measure of triple sec, stirred with ice and topped up with soda. It’s not a strongly flavoured drink, but the gin adds a nice floral touch and the soda makes it satisfyingly refreshing. I got the recipe from the rumhowlerblog website. If you haven’t visited before, Rumhowler is well worth a look, both for researching bottles of all the various kinds of liquor, and also for serving suggestions for each one.

After that, the Glen Moray remained untouched until the drunken chess match that I played with Phil earlier this year. I took it along as something to neck rather than to enjoy – since I knew that would be the order of the day. I still wasn’t able to finish it that day, so a week or so later I just poured what was left into a glass, and did what had to be done.

bargain Whyte and MacKay

Whyte and Mackay Special

Whyte and Mackay was an impulse buy, when I saw it on offer for £12 in Tesco. I’d never tried it before, but judging by the blurb on the label, it looked like it was quite highly thought of. I don’t know how much credence you can give to that, mind; I’m sure Bell’s is highly thought of among their marketing department.

Both the malt whiskies and the grain whiskies that make up the blend are aged, though for an unspecified amount of time, and I would expect that is probably the case with all blends, isn’t it? Most, at least.  Scotchnoob suggests grain whiskies need to be aged for around 17 years before they start to taste good, but I’m fairly sure a blend at the lower end of the spectrum isn’t going to include any that are that old. Probably even grain whiskies start to get expensive at 17 years old.

I did buy it just to see what it was like, expectations low, and I wasn’t overawed by any means. I’d like to say it has a dark flavour, but I don’t see how you could have any inkling of what I mean by that. As you know, I’m woefully inadequate at describing whisky. With each passing glass though, my appreciation deepened. I didn’t mind using it to mix drinks (I think I had at least 3 other whiskies on the go at that point), but nor did I mind drinking it straight, when I didn’t feel like depleting the stocks of my more precious liquors.

The Godfather is a mix of amaretto and scotch. I found it on Wikipedia, and I’m afraid the relative quantities weren’t specified. I mixed at a ratio of 1:1. It was ok, but the Whyte and Mackay was preferable on its own.

I tried the Soft Touch with this one before trying it with the Glen Moray, and was impressed enough to try it with that one, as I said just before. It is nice, but if you like scotch, it’s hard to justify diluting its stronger flavours so much.

mint julep

The Rumhowler also suggests a drink called AlpineMeadows, which is one and a half measures of Glenfiddich 15 year old or Highland Park 12 year old with ¾ of a measure of gin and ¾ of a measure of triple sec, but without soda. That’s very specific, isn’t it? – all those fractions. Clearly Rumhowler has a far more sensitive palate than I do. He’s the drinking equivalent of a musician that insists on playing a ’74 Strat on a record instead of an ’86 one, because he can hear the difference. I certainly didn’t fancy giving any of my Highland Park over to such a mix, and had intended to try it with a cheaper scotch, but on reflection the HP is quite a fine, light-bodied malt, and no doubt that would be instrumental in the outcome of the drink. I just couldn’t see any point in trying it with a blended scotch. Perhaps my palate is developing after all…

My final experiment with Whyte and Mackay was the Mint Julep. Really you should be using bourbon, but I didn’t have any, and I couldn’t see any reason why it wouldn’t work with scotch anyway. And it did. It’s just the kind of cocktail I like; press some mint leaves in a glass with a tablespoon of sugar syrup, fill the glass with crushed ice, then pour three measures of whisky over it. Very nice.

Grant's

Grants

what it should look like

Another impulse buy, because I saw on hotukdeals that ASDA were selling bottles for £11. It’s light bodied and light coloured, but again, pretty good for a blend. By the time I got to the stage that I wanted to finish it and make room in the cupboard for a new acquisition, I had gone off mixing drinks somewhat, so I drank nearly all of this straight. I did get around to trying the Bourbon Milk Punch, though.

BMP recipe

what it looked like

Obviously I used Grants instead of bourbon, and the results were satisfactory. Nice and sour, how I like it, but it turned out that the honey didn’t make it into the drink. I think it just went hard, and stayed in the shaker.

My gripe with this drink is the quantity. I don’t think the glass I used is much bigger than the one in the photo in the book, but on seeing that, you’d be expecting something fairly large, instead of the little dribble I got. You’re probably best doubling up on everything to make it worthwhile.

The Black Grouse

The saga of acquiring this bottle has been fully documented already. It is supposed to be the Famous Grouse’s interpretation of the Islay style, but I never quite came to appreciate that. I tasted a little bit of peat smoke… once. It never quite floated my boat, so I did try one drinks combination. Scotch on the rocks with a twist was suggested by an episode of Columbo (see also, the Drinks with convicted killers part 2 post for a full evaluation). It’s exactly what you’d think it is, and I don’t really have anything more to say about it.

Classy

Dewar’s 12 Years Old, Double Aged

Ah, the Dewar’s; a litre bottle that I purchased in Duty Free, thinking I was getting something special. But no, that would be the Special Reserve. This isn’t that bad though, actually. It took half a litre, but one day I really started enjoying it, and I was pleased that I still had half a litre left. At first I thought it had that dark flavour that I referred to in describing Whyte and Mackay, but that only lasts the duration of your first sip. After that it seemed to be grain whisky all the way, but it did benefit from holding it in my mouth a lot longer than you normally might. That way I seemed to get a little beyond the grain flavours, and at least to a hint of woodyness.

Now I think I must have been drinking it at the wrong time – like, on a Sunday when I’m coming off a heavy drinking session – because one day I came to appreciate a good deal more complexity in it than was immediately apparent. It’s actually quite delicate for a blend. Let that be a lesson to you; don’t trust your impressions of a spirit the day after a heavy session. And don’t bother drinking your special spirits until you’re fully compus mentus again.

My one experiment with this (so far) is whisky and beer, which was suggested by stupid underdog movie, Bad News Bears, Billy Bob Thornton. We couldn’t have gotten more than 10 minutes in before deciding we knew everything that was going to happen and that we didn’t want to watch the rest, but that was long enough to see the aforementioned Mr Thornton open a can of beer, pour a good quantity away, and then top up the can with whisky. I couldn’t tell you why he didn’t just drink the quantity that he wanted to remove from the can – I would – but he didn’t.

Mrs Cake asked if I’d ever tried that, and I said I thought I recalled doing that thing where you buy a pint of lager and a shot of whisky and drop the shot glass into the beer glass, then drink both. A friend of mine at university did it, and made himself ill. I’m not sure if I’d actually tried it, or if I just remembered him telling me about it, but I know it didn’t make me ill.

So the other Saturday I thought I’d try it as a warm up before going out. I poured myself a can of Holsten Pils and added two shots of Dewar’s 12 year old. I didn’t need to drink any of the lager to make room, as the can was 440ml and the glass was a full pint.

The taste of the Dewar’s permeated the whole of the lager, and in quite a pleasing way. I felt that what I keep referring to as Dewars’ ‘dark’ flavour complemented the lager quite nicely. It just caused me to wonder what the point in it is, though. Presumably it’s a good way of getting a buzz on quickly, but you could do that by downing a double whisky and chasing it with a lager. The taste of both combined isn’t preferable to each on its own, but as I say; the Dewars isn’t that bad a blend in the first place. Perhaps if you were to try this with the Glen Moray Classic, you might perceive more benefit.

I don’t know whether people tend to do this in real life, but the fact the character in the film does is no doubt supposed to communicate something about him, like, I don’t know, he’s a maverick redneck alcoholic.

Drinking out of a glass is a little classier than the beer can method in the film, but that’s not particularly important.

Well, that’s all there is for now. I’m sure I’ll be returning to this theme at some point in the future, so do check back. If you’re looking for more scotch based combinations, your best bet is the Rumhowler blog, as I said before. He suggests a drink for every bottle he reviews, so it’s a useful resource. Most of those whiskies are probably good enough to drink on their own, though.

Just a couple of notes before I go. First this Sunday is the anniversary of my first ever post. This one marks my 65^th. I doubt I’ll be able to be so prolific next year, but I’ve enjoyed the journey, and will hopefully be motivated enough to keep the effort up, and keep on improving. So, thanks to everyone that’s read the blog, especially those that have visited regularly. Keep it up.

Finally, just a word on the approaching weekend, and what you can look forward to in the coming weeks. Being that we’ve just had Christmas, I’ve come into a couple of extra bottles of scotch, as you do if you’re the enviable member of your family who routinely gets scotch for Christmas. That brings my current whisky family to 5 members. After conducting an inpromtpu tasting with Paul last week (that will probably come up in this blog at some point), I thought it would be negligent of me not to put all five of these to the test, side by side. So that’s what I’m going to do tonight… after I’ve cleaned the car we’re selling, and taken it where it needs to go…

So it will be Dewar’s 12 year old blended scotch vs Green Spot single pot still Irish whisky, vs Caol Ila 18 year old single malt, vs Balvenie 12 year old “double wood”, vs Gordon and MacPhail Scapa 2001.

It should be interesting. Don’t expect the results straight away mind, I think I have some other posts to get out of the way before I reveal the results of the comparison.

Whatever you’re up to, I hope the new year blues aren’t hitting you too bad. Have a good un, and remember to check back next week for… something else.

Booze Pawn

It’s been another busy week for me, but last week I intimated that I might tell you what happened in the boozy chess I’d had planned. Well, the least I could do is try to fulfil that… intimation.

I’d been needing to restock my booze collection for a while so, though times are hard, I budgeted to buy bottles of gin and dark rum for the chess match. The only dark rum on offer at Asda was Captain Morgan, so I was happy enough to go for that, since I need it for mixing (and necking) more than anything else. As for gin, I’ve perused the selections at a few supermarkets over the last few weeks, and gin is just something I can’t get excited about. Not even wanting to spend £12 on a bottle of Gordon’s, I decided to try some really cheap stuff – Richmond Gin. Less than £10. We’ll see how that works out. Again, it is primarily for mixing, so it can’t go too wrong.

I had also decided the chess might be a good chance to rid myself of some of the things I’d been in possession of for far too long so, along with the obligatory bottle of vodka (Red Square), I also took my Tesco Value Brandy and my crap bottle of scotch (Glen Moray). It would have been nice to take something of quality for people to try, but in boozy chess it’s all about necking shots, so you don’t want to drink anything you could actually enjoy; that would be a waste – and potentially an incentive to lose pieces.

The chess passed off fairly successfully, though it was interrupted at one point by a dog fight – in the same room that the chess was taking place in. I’m not getting into all that. Despite the fight’s proximity to our chess game, none of the pieces were disturbed. Gav and I were just discussing what a relief that was when the wagging tail of the victorious dog pugilist knocked four of our pieces off the board. Between us, I think Phil and I managed to put them all back in the same place, but that was a definite, slow motion “No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!” moment.

To be fair, even accounting for those things, conditions weren’t ideal. While Phil and I duelled mentally, Gav was noisily playing on the Xbox and Phil wasn’t paying any attention to the chess etiquette that says players shouldn’t talk to each other once the game has started – and they especially shouldn’t say things like, “you can win this in two moves” – whether you can or not – which, for the record, I couldn’t.

So, I know what you’re wondering; how much did the alcohol affect the game? Well, I must say it affected the concentration a little, but it’s hard to say, what with all the other distractions and the fact that we didn’t start with a level playing field. My plan had been for both players to start from a base of complete sobriety, but by the time we got back to Phil’s I was thirsty and itching for a beer, and Phil was desperate for me to try the 10 Canes rum that he’d been saving a couple of shots of. So it was more of a rolling start, really.

I’d certainly be up for playing again – with or without the lubrication. It was a pretty fascinating game- I lost (drinking 11 shots in the process) due to failing to protect my left flank and trying to bolster an attack when putting my opponent’s king in check might have been more beneficial in the long run. I guess I won’t know that for sure. Needless to say, we both made mistakes, and there were points where it could have gone either way.

At five o clock, we were done. I immediately drank about 3 pints of water, knowing that a little stamina would be required for the remainder of the evening. We headed into town (Sheffield), and continued with the drinking.

If you are thinking of trying boozy chess, allow me to make just a couple of recommendations. First, do try to start with a level playing field, and second, have something to do afterwards – if you’ve loaded up on alcohol, it’s good to be able to head out with your booze buzz already active. You don’t get to town still needing to get up to speed because you’re already wa-a-a-ay ahead, and ready to lead the conga line all the way down West Street.

That’s it for this week. Apologies for the lack of booze porn. I didn’t feel inspired to take any photos during the chess, and I haven’t even got a picture of the Richmond Gin or Captain Morgan rum for you yet. I’ll try and do better next week, when I think I’ll be discussing the phenomenon of ‘real’ cider in lieu of the upcoming Greater Manchester Cider Festival. See you then.

Simple Drinks

Now, I know that last week I promised to bring you a report on the Ramsbottom Chocolate Festival, and to give you my definitive opinion on combinations of beer and chocolate, but I’m afraid Brenda hasn’t been able to send me the photos from the event yet, so rather than make you do without, I’m just postponing it for a bit. Instead, here’s part one of an entirely new feature on simple alcoholic drinks. Enjoy.

Part 1

Until recently I harboured a strong preference for keeping my alcohol and soft drinks separate – unless I was making a full blown cocktail. I like the flavour of my strong liquors, and I hadn’t previously seen the merit in adulterating them with soft drinks. Similarly, if I was simply thirsty, a soft drink would do on its own.

However, sometimes you might want a long, refreshing alcoholic drink or you might have a bottle of something that isn’t nice enough to drink on its own. Or you might be feeling lazy, and not have the patience to fanny about making a cocktail – sometimes cocktails are like having to cook every time you want a drink. Drinking shouldn’t be like cooking - though it doesn’t hurt if it is an accompaniment to cooking.

The solution is a drink comprised of two ingredients that you can just throw together without too much care or accuracy. I’ve been experimenting a little in this field recently, and I’d like to tell you about some simple combinations. Some of these are standard drinks that I’ve heard of before, and some are ones that (as far as I know) I’ve invented. Give them a try and let me know what you think. If you’ve pioneered any simple drinks of your own, I’d love to hear about them.

Grapefruit juice and brandy – I’ve been making this with 103 Brandy de Jerez. Brenda brought it back from Ibiza a good few years ago, and it’s been sitting atop our kitchen cupboard ever since. Occasionally it has made it into my hip flask for nights out (I think I took a little to Malaysia, actually) but despite liking brandy, I’ve always found the aftertaste of this one a little too bitter.

I decided to pair it up with grapefruit juice because I’m often left with more than half a carton after I’ve had a cocktail night. There aren’t as many cocktails made with grapefruit juice as you might think, and it isn’t the most drinkable juice around – though it is essential for the excellent Havana Zombie (according to some recipes, but not to others). For whatever reason, this marriage works a treat. The brandy takes the sour edge off of the grapefruit juice very nicely. Quantities aren’t that important. I tend to fill a glass with the juice (over ice), but leave enough room for a couple of measures of brandy.

Whisky Mac (whisky and ginger wine) – I actually got this recipe from a bottle of Church’s Green Ginger Wine that was left at my house after a party. It says ‘original recipe’ on the bottle, implying that it’s traditional, but it also says ‘bottled for Aldi stores’ so what ‘original recipe’ means, I don’t know. Anything can be an original recipe, can’t it?

I’d never had any thoughts of drinking it until someone mentioned you could drink it with whisky. When I got the bottle down from the cupboard, I found the recipe right there – you just add a splash of the ginger wine to your whisky. I’ve decided I’m not actually that keen on this one, but I’m including it anyway in case you might be. I had to throw most of a glass of this away recently as I realised if I was only going to have one drink that evening, I didn’t want to waste it on this one.

Licor 43 and coke – I’ve spoken of this one before – most notably in the Spanish booze tourism feature - and it’s actually one of my favourite simple mixes. Licor 43 is a little too sweet for my palate, but it adds a nice twist to cola.

Amaretto and coke – a nice drink in the mould of the Licor 43 and coke that I already mentioned. The almond tones provide a nice backdrop for the cola. Or perhaps it’s the coke that provides a nice backdrop for the amaretto. On the strength of this, I’m surprised coke haven’t already invented the almond coke. Pictured is the bottle of Armila that I’ve been using.

Vodka and Tonic – clearly a very famous drink, but not one I could say I’d tried until recently. I decided to invest in a cheap bottle of Indian Tonic Water from Tesco just for the purpose of trying it with Gin and with Vodka. I’m happy to report that it’s delicious. I prefer it with vodka at the moment, and have mostly been using the Russian Standard that I put in my hip flask a couple of weeks ago, and took out with me, but never actually drank. It’s very sharp and refreshing, and you can taste the vodka even if you only use one measure with a lot of tonic. Try it over ice.

So that concludes part 1. I’ll be back at some undetermined point in the future to give you some more simple drinks, so come back regularly. All right, cool.