A Little Look at Some Miniatures

For some reason I’ve started coming into possession of miniatures. It’s quite nice really. It means people can give me alcohol without having to spend too much money. There’s far too little in those bottles for me to give each product its own post, but it doesn’t mean I can’t group them together. So I thought I’d look at miniatures this week.

Grant’s The Family Reserve (40%)

One of four old miniatures that were delivered to my work one day. When I say “old”, I mean the branding suggests these were bottled in the 90s and had been sitting in someone’s booze cupboard ever since… until the day the owner passed on and their son decided to put them in a jiffy bag and send them to me. Many thanks. I would be interested to find out how the contents might be different from the current incarnation, but I didn’t have the resources or inclination to buy a bottle for this.

I actually decided to try this one alongside Aldi’s Highland Black8, as I was conducting a blend test at the time. For the record, I have decided to include the results of this particular matching here and not in the earlier post because I’d already written the bulk of that one, and didn’t want to have to deconstruct and reconfigure it just for the sake of 5cl of cheap blended scotch.

My notes state that the Grant’s is lacking immediate sweetness, and is quite savoury. I concluded that the product must have improved since then, as I consider Grant’s Family Reserve to be half decent, low cost, entry level blended scotch. In comparison with the Highland Black, this miniature didn’t match up.

 

Macallan Gold (40%)

I’ve never bought a Macallan (except in a restaurant once), as it always strikes me as being more expensive than it should be – not that I based that conclusion on evidence of quality, more on comparable categories. A no age statement, entry level expression for example, shouldn’t be £37 to £42, while a 12 year old sherry cask finish shouldn’t be £60+ - unless it’s cask strength.

Perhaps I’ll change my mind if I do ever buy a bottle, but for now, this miniature is going to have to form my lasting impression. And in all fairness, it was a good impression.

Mortlach 15 (Gordon & MacPhail) (43%)

Impressing me more than the Macallan Gold however, was a miniature Mortlach 15, bottled by Gordon and MacPhail. A standard size bottle of this might be even more expensive, but I’d be more inclined to find out at this point.

Ardbeg 10 (46%)

I’m already a massive fan of this one, so it was lovely to receive it from a colleague who is from the magical island of Islay. I used it to help in my evaluation of Old Ballantruan, though I won’t ruin that upcoming post by revealing anything here – other than that Ardbeg remains a true gent among peaty malts – in fact, among any malts.

Bushmills 10 (40%)

The first of the remaining three miniatures from the 90s. I’ve tried the standard Bushmills Original before, finding it average but acceptable, so single malt offering was intriguing, and I’m pleased to say it’s good. It has an inviting nose, and while it’s light-bodied, making it reminiscent of its blended cousin, there’s a lot to recommend it.

Glenfiddich Special Reserve (40%)

This one came in a little cardboard tube, which was a nice touch. I hadn’t seen this before, but a little internet research revealed that this expression preceded the 12 year old that we’re all so familiar with today. I drank it alongside a glass of today’s standard 12 year old, and my conclusion was that the Special Reserve was marginally better. It was lighter in colour and smelled younger and less rounded, while the 12 year old exhibited more sherry notes on the nose. In terms of flavour though, the Special Reserve tastes better than it smells – sweet and syrupy. The 12 year old brought to mind rubber and pears.

St Michael Lowland (40%)

St Michael – you don’t see that anymore, do you? Do you remember? Yes, this used to be Marks and Spencer’s own brand – we used to get their crisps. And this is their version of a lowland single malt. Very interesting, and in fact, very enjoyable. I found it light, fresh and playful, though perhaps with an unfortunate finish.

Smirnoff (37.5%)

Everyone knows the Smirnoff. This one came as a free gift with a bottle of Crown Royal I received at Christmas. I saved it for sipping in the car during our lift to the airport and, as such, it was very enjoyable.

Hotel Chocolat Salted Caramel Cocoa Vodka (26.5%)

What is it with salted caramel? It is so hot right now. This bottle formed part of a package that my sister sent over for my birthday. It was a nice idea to add one or two miniatures (and a beer) to the order, and one that gives me a chance to try something I wouldn’t normally bother going near.

Best served chilled over ice, says the website, so I popped this in the fridge for my Tuesday evening drinking session. I have to admit, I don’t like the smell. There’s just something dirty about it. The flavours are good though. It’s still not something I’ll be inclined to return to, but if you are a fan of salted caramel, I don’t think you could go wrong with this. Mrs Cake had a sip, and was suitably impressed.

I finished the evening with a slice of cake and a glass of Wild Turkey Kentucky Spirit, which I’m afraid was a mistake. The sweetness of the vodka and cake hijacked the bourbon, dispersing its normally beautiful construction and making me consider tipping it back in the bottle for later. There was also an odd meaty smell hanging around, which I put down to the vodka… but equally, I suppose it could have been my clothes.

Hotel Chocolat Special Reserve Tawny Port (20%)

Another component of my birthday package, I looked this one up on the Hotel Chocolat site, and found that it is recommended to be taken with milk chocolate. I’ve often had a problem mixing chocolate and various other sweet things with alcohol, so this seemed a surefire way to get what all the fuss is about – an alcoholic beverage, sold by a chocolate producer for the express purpose of consuming with chocolate.

What can I say? It’s fine, like, but I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I enjoyed the port more when I drank it on its own. This whole combination thing just strikes me as another attempt to get consumers to engage with products. I like chocolate, I don’t normally like port – in fact, I think this is the first time I’ve ever mentioned it on this blog – but I did like this one, and it doesn’t need to be combined with the chocolate in order to impress. It is actually a little lighter in the body than other ports I’ve tried and, while I’ve been very impressed with the Hotel Chocolat chocolate I’ve had in the past, I felt this one, which was half white, half milk with like, a reindeer on it or something, was a little bland. Perhaps it is the fillings which normally make this chocolate so enjoyable.

So in conclusion, I didn’t feel these items complemented each other in the way they were supposed to. The port though: very nice.

Grey Goose Vodka Cherry Noir (40%)

You have to wonder how much of the money you’re spending on a bottle of Grey Goose is paying for the packaging, because the bottles are always impressive – frosted glass with a clear centre that serves to distort and enhance a colourful image that has been placed on the back of the bottle. I ask because Grey Goose is one of the well known premium brands here in the UK – you’re generally looking at £35 for the standard, unflavoured variety – and I can’t see anything special about its flavour.

Mrs Cake got this miniature when she purchased a bottle of the standard in Canada, probably around 2 years ago. Finally I got to snaffle it. I thought it was nice and sweet at first, but that impression quickly changed to one of childhood medicine. Sure, that might be nice enough to persuade a sick child to drink it, but it’s not something I want reflected in my spirits. I also got a bit of a bready taste somewhere in there, that served to ultimately make this a fairly unpleasant experience. Sure, it’s probably intended for use in cocktails, but if that is the case, that just makes it worse – you shouldn’t be paying £30 plus for something to make a slight difference to your cocktails.

Now, I see Grey Goose also produce a “VX” expression, which includes a “hint of precious cognac”. Sounds interesting, but inevitably over-priced to me… I’ll just have a look… yes, £90 for a litre. Fuck off.

Conclusion

That’s my recent batch of miniatures finished. I’ll start a new post as time goes on, and return to this theme some time in the future. Thanks for having a little read, and see you next week.

Spirit Log: White Horse Blended Scotch

I had a pleasant surprise one Saturday, when a visit to my parents resulted in receiving a new bottle of whisky. Apparently my dad had been emptying out the pantry because they needed to find storage space for some things that had been displaced by the arrival of a dishwasher, and he found some booze hidden away in there – you wouldn’t get that in my house. I was invited to take a look – like one of those experts they get in on Cash in the Attic.

First out were 20cl bottles of Gordon’s Gin and Smirnoff vodka. Pretty standard, and no more than I had expected. I would have been happy to take these off their hands – I’m not a big fan of Smirnoff, or the whole genre of gin, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have requirements – nevertheless, my mum laid claim to those, for drinking with orange or tonic or whatever – she doesn’t normally, and actually had to ask me what she could mix vodka with. The answer? Nearly anything.

Far more interesting than those anyway, was what came out of the pantry next: White Horse blended scotch (40% ABV). It’s not a brand you hear much about, being as it is, more popular and readily available in overseas markets. I had heard of it though, from a brief perusal of sub-£20 blends on The Whisky Exchange (£18.55 + P&P, btw). Reviews were exclusively good so I’d made a mental note to keep an eye out for it next time I was looking to buy a blend.

It scores an impressive 90.5 in Jim Murray’s 2013 Whisky Bible, is made up of 40% malt whisky, and has as its base, the excellent Lagavulin single malt. I read somewhere though, that it is actually blended from around 40 malts in total. Does that mean each malt comprises only 1% of the resulting blend?

Where did this buried treasure come from? Apparently it all used to belong to my granddad… who died about 15 years ago. None of the bottles have been opened, so it should be fine – despite the fact that there looks to be a lot of air at the top of my bottle – perhaps some of it had evaporated? I’ve read before that whisky will taste as good as when it was bottled for hundreds of years, as long as the bottle remains unopened. And now this particular bottle belongs to me and there is no longer any chance of it remaining unopened for hundreds of years. I give it a week or two at most.

I don’t know if you’ve ever had this experience, but when my grand parents learned they were not much longer for this world, they started asking me if there was anything of theirs I wanted. I said that I would like whatever they specifically wanted to give me. The person is more important to me than their stuff. A word of advice for you though, if an elderly relative of yours asks you this question, think about saying, “I wouldn’t mind having your booze”. You never know, you might get something valuable. Worst case scenario: some bottles of booze.

Something else my granddad did as the end approached was to try to give me the benefit of some useful things he had learned. One was about changing a tyre, that I’ve sadly forgotten, and the other was about how to emerge from a shower cubicle in winter without feeling the cold.

White Horse, I see, is one of Diageo’s blends, though my internet research so far has not revealed for how long Diageo has produced this particular brand. Diageo was formed in 1997 from a merger between Guinness and Grand Metropolitan, and that’s probably roughly around the time this particular bottle was produced, though nowhere on it is the name Diageo mentioned, and to be fair, my granddad could have had it for quite sometime before he passed on anyway. It remains to be seen then, whether this bottle is representative of the White Horse brand you might be able to buy today, since I’ll need to buy a new bottle to determine that.

Have you ever inherited any booze? I remember now that when my Grandma died, I was given a litre bottle of Teachers so, you know, it would be interesting to know what gets left behind at the end of a person’s life. If you were proper into whisky you’d probably make sure you were finishing the good stuff in your last days – or maybe there are more important considerations for the terminally ill. Would you drink the good stuff, leaving the Teachers, or would you save something special for the end?

A Few Weeks Later…

So, what about this White Horse, then? I broke the seal and gave it a first tasting the night of the Confederations Cup Final, and was impressed right away. In the glass, it looks simply beautiful. There’s something about that rich hue that shimmers invitingly in kitchen lighting conditions. Incidentally, I'm sorry but I don't seem to have taken a picture of the bottle. I don't know how that happened.

As I said, it is supposed to be founded on Lagavulin, and while I can’t say I detect that in there specifically, there is a definite feel of Islay. This is a nice blend – not as great as the Jim McEwan’s Symphony that rocketed right to the top of my blend league – but approaching that level of complexity and refinement.

After a couple of tastings I started to detect vanilla on the nose – like the Bladnoch 10 that I had some time ago. Grainy elements also started to show through on the finish, where I hadn’t been able to detect them before. In spite of that, on the blended scotch scale it sits closer to the delicate sweetness of the Jim McEwan’s Symphony than it does to what I consider standard budget blend fare where sweetness is lacking and instead the spirit seems rough and unpleasant .

Perhaps not one to bring out when the single malt snobs come round, but I wouldn’t use it for mixing. It’s definitely one to consider if you’re looking for a decent blend on a budget.

I see from looking at my stats today that this is my 100^th post. Go me. Thanks everyone that has popped by whether it by to read, look at a picture or whether it was entirely by accident. And apologies for my tardiness. I’ve not been so good at posting regularly of late, but I’ll keep trying. See you next week (or later this week) for something else.

Distilgrimage... Part One

Good evening! Yes, I’m finally back from Vietnam. I say ‘finally’, as if I wouldn’t rather be there, but believe me… I would. It was awesome, and I can’t wait to tell you all about it (I hope you enjoyed the tweets), but first… I need to get around to writing about it. Don’t worry though, this week’s post is something else I’ve been looking forward to giving you for a while. It’s part one of a two part account of my trip with the missus to the island of Islay. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you… Distilgrimage (part one).

800+ miles… 2 days travelling, 9 hours each way… 2 days tasting… 6 distilleries… 5 tastings… 3 tours… 19 whiskies… 2 new-make spirits and 1 gin sampled… 3 new bottles… 6 new glasses.

Given those stats, I can only be talking about a weekend on the island of Islay, off the western coast of Scotland. Yes, do you remember me asking in my previous ‘review’ of Ian Buxton’s 101 Whiskies to Try Before You Die, is it worth visiting more than one distillery? How different can they be? Well, I will come to answer those two questions in the course of these next two posts because, for my birthday, Mrs Cake decided to treat me to a weekend away at the home of several of my favourite whiskies – in fact, the birthplace of scotch whisky itself,  in what would come to be known as our Distilgrimage - a name that makes perfect sense since, like a pilgrimage, it was a long fricking way, and it was a spiritual experience – which is both a pun and attempt to ascribe some kind of poetic significance to proceedings. Just go with it.

I had known Mrs Cake was planning something, and I had an inkling that it would be a weekend away – it’s kind of obvious when you are required to book a couple of days off work. I also remembered telling her that maybe one day I’d quite like to visit a distillery, but I had no idea how much effort she would put into it. If it had been me, we’d have gone to Edinburgh, and I would have found the nearest distillery to there. Not Mrs Cake, she knows I’m partial to the peaty goodness of Islay (Caol Ila, Bruichladdich and Laphroaig were already firm favourites), so she pulled out all the stops and on my birthday presented me with a full colour itinerary (I bet her work is pleased about that) detailing what we would be up to come the 21^st of February 2013.

Journey

It’s a long way to Islay (from Manchester). It’s a fairly long way to Scotland, and I never expected I’d have any particular excuse to go there again, but it’s a really long way to Islay. That doesn’t matter though, I like a good road trip, and the missus and I had been needing something like this for a while since our working lives hadn’t been seeming to get along with us, and as a result, us with each other. We always have a great time on holiday though.

I jiggled my hours about at work, and arranged for a 3 o clock finish on the Thursday. We’d packed the night before, so it was straight home, load the car, get going.

I’d requested some bangin’ hip-hop for the journey, but Mrs Cake had sadly missed the mark, picking the worst of Ghostface Killah’s albums, and frankly nothing I’d been hoping for. Nevermind – we at least got right into the People Under the Stairs’ Highlighter album.

We set off not long before 4pm. Mrs Cake had booked us a hotel by Loch Lomond to rest up in in advance of an early ferry the next morning. We arrived at the hotel, starving, at 9.30pm. As we approached the entrance, I could see the chef wearing one of those flame coloured chef caps through the window, drinking a can of Special Brew. It turned out though, that the kitchen was already closed, and all they could offer us was soup and a sandwich. They had a well-stocked bar, but all I fancied was a pint and bed, being exhausted from the journey. I had just enough energy to watch Charlie Brooker’s Weekly Wipe, and despite having brought my bottle of Scapa (coals to Newcastle?) I didn’t even bother getting it out.

The ferry was scheduled to depart from Kennacraig at 9.45 the next morning, but we had to be there by 9.15. It was roughly a two hour drive from the hotel, so that meant we had to leave while it was still dark, and before our hotel started serving breakfast. That was fine with me, as I feel nervous eating breakfast when I have to be somewhere at a certain time.

On the way the satnav decided to send us down a weird side road that we determined couldn’t be right, so we turned back after a bit and just went the way that seemed logical. I joked that maybe we should change the voice on the satnav to a man’s, since he would probably be better at reading maps.

Mrs Cake was getting flustered, but I reassured her that we still had plenty of time, and if we missed the ferry, we’d just have to get the next one. We made it to the ferry for 9.05, so it was all good anyway.

satnav does not show the boat

The ferry takes around two hours, and it’s comfortable enough. The scenery’s nice, as you’d expect from Scotland, but the wind was blowing cold so I didn’t stay outside for long. I’d wanted to be on deck to see Islay approaching, since I’d heard you can see Laphroaig from the ferry, but for some reason you can’t get to the front of the boat. It wouldn’t really have mattered, as I learned on the way back that the boat comes out of port, then turns 90 degrees left, so you can see Laphroaig on the left hand side. Coming into port of course, it would be visible on the right. Nevertheless, I got a couple of pictures on the way back. I’m estimating the distillery was about a mile away, but you can see it quite clearly.

All the TVs were on on the ferry, and were showing Homes Under the Hammer for some reason. We’d both left our books in the car, so it was a waiting game. Thankfully, time goes quicker as you get older, so it didn’t seem to take that long. In theory that should mean that the faster time goes, the closer to death you are, so you ought to have some kind of clue as to when you’re actually going to die because right before, time will be going really fast.  I’ve seen old people though, and they don’t seem to be noticing. Perhaps you don’t when you’re in the moment, it’s only afterwards, and if you’re dead there isn’t an afterwards anyway…

Where was I? Ah yes, arrival on Islay. Mrs Cake had made a reservation for us at the Islay Hotel in Port Ellen, which is literally on your left as soon as you get off the ferry. She picked this one for two very good reasons:

1. We wouldn’t have to worry too much about getting to the ferry in time for the trip back
2. The distilleries of Laphroaig, Lagavulin and Ardbeg are within a brisk walking distance (of sorts), so that would mean we could potentially get hammered and not worry about having to drive.

Day One

Mrs Cake hadn’t booked any distillery tours for our first day, but on arrival we decided to head straight out and try the triumvirate of classic distilleries that were just down the road. Not actually being sure whether it was walkable (a map suggested it was a distance of 5km between the three), we decided to drive to the furthest first (Ardbeg), just to see how far the others were, and potentially drive back before walking to them later.

Nearly everyone we passed waved to us as we went by, which was certainly a nice welcome, but since we weren’t expecting it we didn’t always get chance to wave back. Sorry about that, people of Islay.

The three distilleries are all on the same road, and Laphroaig is definitely walkable. Lagavulin should be possible also, but the road narrows and winds somewhat before you reach Ardbeg. There’s no footpath and the grass verge was a little bushy and looked heavy going. We reached Ardbeg in just a couple of minutes and headed inside where their café was doing a roaring trade. We perused the gift shop while we waited for a table, since lunch was well on the cards by this point.

A lady told us that for £5 we could have a table tasting alongside lunch if we wanted, and that seemed like a good idea. They have a good range of tours, which you can read about here (http://www.ardbeg.com/ardbeg/distillery/tours), and I forget why we didn’t join one. I think that with it starting at 3pm, we would be waiting around a while, and we thought we wouldn’t get time to get to Lagavulin and Laphroaig that afternoon if we did.

So we had lunch, planning to have our table tasting afterwards. As we ate though, the café continued to get busier, so we thought they might want to use our table. We were told instead that we could have our tasting in what they call The Chairman’s Study. That’s a small room at the end of the bar that houses a wide range of Ardbeg expressions, ranging from standard to very rare. We would only be tasting four current expressions, Blasda, 10 year old, Uigeadail and Corryvreckan.

You’ll be pleased to hear that they are all damn good. I’d only tried the 10 year old before, but had already heard good things about Uigeadail. That one and the Corryvreckan are both cask strength and, along with the 10 year old, are very peaty. Blasda is actually only lightly peated in comparison. You get to learn all about phenols and parts per million, and it’s interesting to think you can taste something that consists of only 8 parts in a million.

I’d just like to note at this point that I added a drop or two of water to the cask strength whiskies, and again at certain other points during the trip, and if you’ve ever read that when adding water, you should ideally try to get the same kind of spring water as was used to produed the whisky… none of the distilleries bother with that – and they’re probably the only ones who could! In fact, if you raise this point, they’re likely to look at you like you’re an imbecile. So that’s something you can stop worrying about. I’m thinking it’s probably best to use your own tap water, since you’re probably used to the taste of that, and therefore you won’t notice it. That’s one to try next time I get something cask strength.

Incidentally, Laphroaig’s water source dried up fairly recently, so I guess it’s wasteful to bottle it when you could be making special whisky with it.

That tasting became the first of a number of freebies that the various distilleries threw our merry way over the next few days. On its culmination I asked the young girl who had done the hosting if I just gave her the £5, and she said don’t worry about it. ‘I won’t tell anyone,’ I said, but I just have. Anyway, it seems to be standard practice, so nothing to worry about.

When it came to buying souvenirs, I was considering buying a bottle from Ardbeg (I’ve been wanting one for some time), but decided to wait until I’d been to a few more distilleries before making a choice.

Before getting back in the car, we walked down to the sea to get a picture of the building that has ‘Ardbeg’ written on the side. We also saw quite a few barrels sitting out there, and got some photos of those too. Of course we were tempted to reverse the car up, and try to get one in the back. That would actually be the only time we would see any barrels on the trip (aside from one other – the cask that Bruichladdich lets you fill your own 50cl bottle from for £55). For some reason, none of the distilleries would take us into their storage facilities. Caol Ila would later tell us that it was for Customs and Excise reasons. I know they don’t have many on site at that particular distillery, but other than the still themselves, thousands of barrels of whisky, peacefully aging in a warehouse is what I want to see the most! Could they not have a big glass window or something, that you could look through?

On with the crawl. Mrs Cake isn’t into whisky, so driving duties passed to her. She was able to have a sip of each sample while I finished the rest, so I left with a happy buzz and we headed over to Lagavulin, not bothering with the driving back to the hotel and walking thing after all.

We were greeted at Lagavulin by a lovely lady called Marjorie, who informed us that a tour would be starting in half an hour, if we would care to wait – just in case some more people turned up (no one did). It would be £6, and we would receive a free branded Glencairn glass and a sample of the expression of our choice at the end. Alternatively, we could have a tasting of the three expressions, which would also be £6. Well, there were two of us, which meant we would be able to sample two of the three expressions between us if we took the tour, and Glencairn glasses were £5 in the gift shop (and indeed in the gift shops of all the various distilleries we would eventually visit), so the tour seemed like the best deal – especially since I’d tried the Lagavulin 16 before, so I only needed to taste two. We decided to wait, and had a nice chat with Marjorie while we did.

Marjorie led the tour herself (in fact, all the tours we took were led by women), and it was informative, friendly and conversational. Mrs Cake asked a ton of questions and Marjorie proved her knowledge to be extensive. We saw the old malting fire which isn’t in use anymore as the grain for all the distilleries on Islay is malted at the large Port Ellen plant – where they also used to make whisky, but sadly no more – as well as the mill, the mash tun, wash back (?) and finally, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, as the French would say, the still room.

Marjorie let us taste the wash out of one of the tubs, which is essentially warm beer, and quite tasty, before throwing the remainder back in the tub. We wondered about hygiene, but apparently it literally makes no difference, as all this is going to be boiled at the distilling stage anyway.

Lagavulin and indeed Caol Ila are sister distilleries under the authoritarian father-figure of Diageo – the giant company that also owns Guinness, Smirnoff, Gordon’s, Captain Morgan and a whole slew of whisky producers – and as such are subject to the ‘no photographs on any part of the tour’ rule, which explains why I’ve no pictures for you here. The reason apparently, is that a lot of the other distilleries owned by Diageo get many many times more visitors, and it causes delays to their tours. Quite why they should make this a blanket policy to cover tours that consist of just two people doesn’t really make sense to me, but there you go.

I heard also that in the past, tour guides had been known to allow sneaky photos, but ended up getting in trouble when the same tourists went to another distillery and complained when they weren’t allowed to take photos there, stating that they had been allowed to at Lagavulin. Why anyone would want to get their guide in trouble like that, I couldn’t say – I certainly wouldn’t. Knowing that I was going to tell you about all this, I didn’t even take a sneaky photo, but don’t worry, there will be a photo of a still in part two of this travelogue, thanks to Bruichladdich where they aren’t subject to such strict discipline – yet – and a couple of pictures of the giant stills at Caol Ila… through a window.

Finally then, we were led into a comfortable drawing room and invited to select which of the three expressions we would like to try. We passed over the 16 year old (which is reputed to be the best), instead selecting the cask strength 12 year old and the limited edition that was finished in sherry casks. Mrs Cake liked the sherry finish, but I wasn’t overly fond of either on this occasion. Not that they were bad! No, but let’s just say I hadn’t found one of my purchases yet.

Before she left us, Marjorie also gave us our Classic Malts passports which entitle us to free tours at 11 other distilleries – one of them being Caol Ila. Mrs Cake hadn’t actually booked us a tour at Caol Ila in advance, instead opting for the Premium Tasting, so we thought these might prove useful. They did, but much more on that in part 2!

Don’t go anywhere just yet, there’s one more distillery to go before the end of day 1, and while there’s less to tell about this one, I’m sure you’ll want to stay and find out because it’s the legendary Laphroaig.

Laphroaig was probably the first single malt that I ever truly loved, though the early romance has cooled somewhat over the last few years as I came to explore so many other styles and products. Even so, I still hold the distillery in some reverence.

It was about 4.15pm when we arrived, and we’d missed any tours but that didn’t mean we couldn’t pop into the bustling gift shop and see about having a little tasting in the last 15 minutes they were open, which we did, and they allowed us to for free.

I’d tried the 10 year old and Quarter Cask expressions before, and figured they probably wouldn’t want to let me try the 25 and 30 year olds they had there. Mrs Cake asked anyway, and they said they didn’t open them. That left the Triple Wood and 18 year old, that they did let us try, though I barely got a dribble of the 18 year old! I didn’t make any notes, and it is difficult to give a full appraisal from a single taste, but I’d have to say I liked the 18 without being sure whether I’d like to shell out £70 for a bottle, while the Triple Wood had a strong and not particularly pleasant finish that I remembered from my own bottle of Caol Ila 18 year old – an expression we later learned is quite rare now. Check me out.

I thought then, that I probably wouldn’t make a Laphroaig one of my purchases on this occasion either, though I will return at some time in the future. I did make sure to get a branded Glencairn glass though, as well as some cheese that is made with Laphroaig. I don’t recall now, but I thought that cost £2.50, while Mrs Cake says it was £3.50. There was also a pair of spectacles on the counter, black with a large white L on them, that given the breadth of branded products you can get, made us consider that maybe they were official Laphroaig spectacle frames, but no, they belonged to one of the Belgian or Norwegian tourists who were busily getting their expensive purchases in.

I’ve tried the cheese now, and despite the fact that it is made of only 1.6% whisky, you can really taste it. On numerous occasions in the past, Mrs Cake and I have tried a product like this and found traces of the special ingredient nowhere. The bad news though, is that in my opinion, the cheese isn’t particularly nice. I’m sure some people will get a lot of enjoyment out of it, but sadly not I. Nevermind.

Well, that concludes part one of the Islay Distilgrimage Adventure. We had dinner and whatnot that evening, but it wasn’t particularly whisky-related, so not for inclusion here. I may as well give the Islay Hotel its due though, and say its restaurant was pretty good. I’m not a food blogger, so I’m not going to get all specific or glowing on you, but I’d recommend it if you’re staying on Islay one of these days. Come to think of it, the bar was fairly impressively stocked...

Join me next week then, for part two, in which we’ll be visiting the distilleries of Bruichladdich and Caol Ila and making some purchases. It will most likely be a quiet weekend for me – feeling the strain of holiday expenses – but with all the booze I’ve got, that doesn’t mean I can’t have a party. Tonight I’m thinking I’ll compare the bootleg longan wine that I bought in Vietnam for £4 with my £48 bottle of Domenis Blanc e Neri grappa, so that will be fun. Tomorrow will be, you know, similar. I er… forgot that I’d splashed out (£5.99)  on the premium Ballycastle Irish Cream from Aldi before I went away, so I might give that one an airing. Then there’s always other things burning a hole in their bottles…

Other than that, it’s time to get back to normal life after the holiday – shopping, cooking and all that. I’ve promised Mrs Cake I’ll make her a birthday cake, so along with my first round of golf since the first week in January, that’s Saturday taken care of.

There’s still plenty to look forward to and to blog about, so keep coming back and inbetween times, follow me on twitter (@alcothusiast) where I’ll be giving you tasters of what’s to come and generally trying to be funny.

Have a good one, and see you later!

New Feature: Booze Tourism

When people go on holiday they buy souvenirs, don’t they? And they also buy cheap booze in duty free – because we love a bargain. By the time I get to the airport to return home there’s no money left in my bank account, so I’ve never had any budget left for booze. That’s what duty free’s there for, isn’t it? One last chance to get rid your remaining holiday budget – because in the old days people went to a travel shop and changed their money into foreign currency. Then, if they had any left on the way home, they’d try to spend it.

That doesn’t really happen so much anymore, since the age of multinational banking and debit cards that work (nearly) anywhere – not for my generation anyway.

Until about five years ago, I never bought any souvenirs on holiday, until I realised it was a great way to find obscure football shirts that I could wear to 5-a-side on a Monday night. And last year, inspired by a burgeoning interest in alcoholic beverages, I became a booze tourist.

You’ll have to excuse me if I go a bit snobby here for a moment. A booze tourist isn’t someone that buys duty free Smirnoff at the airport on the way home because they can get a litre for the same price as it usually costs to get 70cl, or buys a case of French wine that’s £1.99 a bottle. Or that 2 bottle pack of Johnny Walker Red that’s 20 Euros, not because it’s nice (because it isn’t) but because it’s 20 Euros - for two bottles of whisky. It’s not someone that goes to Prague with 5 mates, so that they can go to titty bars and drink lager at 30p a pint. A booze tourist does a bit of research before they go on holiday, and looks for special drinks that are indigenous to their destination.

The advantages of this are threefold: 1. It gives you something to be actively involved in during your stay,2. You can find interesting and tasty stuff that can be hard or impossible to locate at home (it seems nearly every country has its own strong liquor) and 3. It’s cheaper to buy these things from close to the source than from a supermarket, off licence or importer.

So begins a new feature at Drink it How You Like it. Look out for part one – Venice, which starts next week. I’ll be looking (briefly) at traditional Venetian souvenirs, before telling you a bit about my trip, and a bit more about how I became a booze tourist during  June of last year.