Spirit Log: Wild Turkey... 81?

I’d been intending to buy a new bottle of tequila at the start of the month, but I’m at that stage now where, if I want something of decent quality that I haven’t had before, I have to spend somewhere around £30. Given various economic factors, I couldn’t really be sure that was something I could afford to do, so instead I put thirty quid aside and told myself I’d get it later in the month if it looked like I was going to be (slightly more than) ok.

The month slowly passed, and I thought, goo on then, and added a bottle to my basket. I realised though, that I was heading off on holiday in a few days, so I might not be around to take delivery. I didn’t want to be worrying about it while I was away, so I decided to put the purchase off once again. I had ended up spending £15on a single bottle of beer anyway, that hadn’t been planned, so I could look at this as a £15 saving.

Then Mrs Cake said she was going to Tesco to stock up on food for a barbeque, and did I want anything. I had a quick look at Tesco Online, and found they were selling Wild Turkey 81 for £15, and told Mrs Cake to get that if they had it.

They did, but look at this; it ain’t Wild Turkey 81 no mo’. It’s still 40.5%, but now it’s just “Wild Turkey”. This new bottle actually makes it look like a shit supermarket own brand blended scotch, but that neck and stopper lend it a slight touch of class, I suppose.

Fifteen quid is good value though, and a price I’m happy to pay to see how the basic expression compares with the premium Kentucky Spirit that I was drinking earlier in the year.

Now, I opened this at poker night which, by rights, all bourbon should be opened at, but it led to nearly half the bottle being consumed on that one occasion. And this is good bourbon – it isn’t complicated, but it is tasty, replete with all you expect from the genre; sweet and playful. As you’d imagine, it isn’t as full-bodied or rich as the Kentucky Spirit, but it’s possible that it’s all the more enjoyable for that. There’s no messing around with water and, given the comparative prices, you can just enjoy this for what it is, instead of having to ask whether it was worth the extra outlay. I almost feel like I was getting cash back. I’m a little disappointed that I’m half a bottle down already, but then I just remember that it was only £15. I doubt I’ll ever get it this cheap again, but you’ve got to take it when you can get it.

Wild Turkey’s merits shouldn’t be understood purely in terms of value though. That would be to sell it short, because it’s very good. Not as luxurious as all-time bourbon favourite, Woodford ReserveDouble Oaked, but seriously enjoyable. Kentucky Spirit though, nearly made my 2016 Spirits of the Year list. Mind you, look at the price of that. I can’t say it’s that much better than this standard Wild Turkey – though it is better.

Another Christmas in the Canada Part 2: You're Coming With Me

Is this picture too big?

One thing EU travellers have to contend with when traveling to North America, that isn’t a problem when staying within the boundaries of the EU, is that of limits to what you can bring home. When returning from the US or Canada, it’s a measly one litre – per person. So much to try, so little time. I suppose it’s lucky I did marry a Canadian, since it means I’ll be able to visit Canada fairly frequently – I could have married someone from China, where they make baiju… that I’ve tried about enough of, thank you very much.

Yes, deciding what to bring home is one of the most exciting parts of the booze tourism experience. I had done my research as usual, and had become overwhelmed with all the choices, so instead of researching the fuck out of it, I stopped when I had a modest shortlist to choose from, and kept it on my phone.

My original intention was one Canadian whisky and one bourbon, but a couple of visits to liquor stores suggested choice among bourbons was not that extensive. Then I realised we were planning a trip to Florida in 2014, so why not wait until then? Two Canadian whiskies then, I said. Not that I’m expecting there to be liquor stores in Disneyland (that could be an interesting post…), but there’s always the Duty Free.

I ended up making one of my purchases on the second day, returning to the Liquor Depot in Woodbine to pick up the Lot 40 that the shop assistant had been so keen on. It had actually been on my list all along, so I just decided to plump for it. Any plans to hold out for the Masterson’s 10 evaporated, and I ultimately didn’t see that in any of the many liquor stores we ended up visiting anyway.

Lot 40 is bottled at a cockle-warming 43%, which makes a nice change from most of the Canadian whiskies I saw, and I ended up paying in excess of 50 Canadian dollars (around £30). I later learned that this was 10 dollars too much, but whatever, the damage had been done by then.

Lot 40 has garnered a lot of interest and praise around the internet, so I’m looking forward to being able to add my voice to the deafening tumult in the coming months.

At this point I realised there was a very real possibility that someone might buy me a bottle of whisky for Christmas, meaning I was going to have to hold off on any further purchases. I waited, sipping the Alberta Springs 10 and Canadian ’83, expecting that, should anyone buy me a bottle, it would be a Crown Royal – which I didn’t mind, though I would prefer to be able to try something else. Nevertheless, just wait and see.

Waiting, waiting – during which time it transpired we would be taking the Highland Park 12 that we had bought for Mrs Cake’s dad back with us – you see, one of the bottles he wanted me to finish was a Highland Park 12 with just about three fingers left. I remarked that he gave the bottle a good go, despite not being fond of it, but he said the guy who brought it actually drank all that. Would the extra bottle cause problems on re-entry to the UK? We had bought it in the UK, and therefore already paid tax and duty so… hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

Highwood Centennial, "Limited Edition"

Christmas Day arrived, and this was my whisky gift. It’s a limited edition known as Centennial from Highwood Distillers. I haven’t been able to find out any information in terms of what’s ‘limited’ about it, but it’s 40% ABV, and I’m going to assume it is aged for 10 years, since there is a 10 year old expression that looks identical. It is presented in an elegant grappa-style bottle with an extra long neck, which means it doesn’t fit in my special cupboard. Good pick though, Mrs Cake’s mum, good pick indeed. This is one that I might well have picked out for myself... though it hadn’t made it on to my list.

Highwood are based in the small town of High River, Alberta and they make other spirits such as vodka and rum as well as whisky. I had e-mailed them to enquire about taking a tour in advance of our holiday, but they responded in no uncertain terms that they wouldn’t be doing any tours for the time-being due to the damaging floods that devastated the area in the summer. Fair play, though I’m sorry to say the tone of the e-mail didn’t make me too keen to attempt a visit on any future occasion either.

Holy shit. Right?

So, you’d think that would be it, wouldn’t you? One whisky for me to take home, one for Mrs Cake to take on my behalf, and then one to take back with us that had been a failed gift attempt… but, no. Christmas with Mrs Cake’s father (and wife) arrived a few days later and what’s this? Another bottle of whisky. Not Canadian this time though. This is a 2011 Berry Bros and Rudd bottling of a 1979 Bunnahabhain (51.4% ABV) – exclusive to Calgary’s Willow Park liquor store, or apparently not since I found something remarkably similar (though out of stock) on Master of Malt.

This is 32 years old! It made me feel a bit awkward, to be honest. What’s Mrs Cake’s dad doing buying me a 32 year old single malt? My initial estimate was that this could have cost up to £200, which is just far too much to be spending on a Christmas gift for your son-in-law – not to mention the book and glencairn glasses that were packaged with it. The Master of Malt listing had it at £150 (which is still far too much), but we couldn’t resist stopping at Willow Park a few days later to see if they still had it. They did, and it was somewhere around 150 Canadian dollars – which was more like £90. Frankly, that’s still too much. The only thing that would make me feel better would be if this was a re-gift. It’s rude to ask, but I’m just going to assume it’s a re-gift so that I can enjoy it to the full. I never thought I’d own a 30 year old malt, but here it is. One source (Jim Murray, I think) suggests that Bunnahabhain doesn’t carry extended aging so well but, as ever, I will be the judge of that. Thanks John.

Well that would have to be it for our check-in luggage. Hopefully that wouldn’t be too much for the customs, and if it was, I’d be prepared to pay the duty – as long as they didn’t take my precious booze away.

Being the obsessive booze-hound that I am, I was tempted not to finish even there. You see, our flights were via Frankfurt, and on our outward journey I had seen the Duty Free shops had two of Highland Park’s exclusive to international travel expressions. I’ve been dying to try them, and I happen to have a 0% credit card at the moment so I figured I’d pick one up on the way home. Since Frankfurt is in Europe, it seemed logical that I should be able to take as much booze as I wanted from there back to the UK – right?

When we arrived at Frankfurt Mrs Cake was feeling unwell, and I was tired and starting to feel the guilt – you know, when suddenly you think actually I don’t think I can justify spending another £50 on booze for myself.

I deliberated and writhed in turmoil for a couple of hours while Mrs Cake slept. When she awoke and requested ginger ale (Canadian cure-all medicine) and mints, I toddled off to a couple of shops looking for them then, having been successful, decided I’d reward myself not with the Highland Park, but with some cigars.

The point of all this is that they wouldn’t let me buy any tax free goods. I was in too much of a hurry and too tired to ask why, but it was probably because Frankfurt was only a stop on the journey, so I wouldn’t have been able to buy the Highland Park anyway… and they probably wouldn’t have let me buy the Wild Turkey that time in Dubai Airport. Oh well.

Hours later we arrived home, and I needed to unpack my booze as soon as possible – both to make sure it had all survived intact, and to stand the bottles the right way up so that the alcohol wouldn’t damage the cork stoppers (where appropriate), which in turn wouldn’t damage the precious liquid.

It had been around 48 hours since we’d wrapped each bottle in bubble-wrap, then in clothes, then vacuum packed them and I’d been trying not to think about them since.

At home, my combination padlock was stuck fast and I couldn’t release it. It took a combination of hacksaw, hammer, screwdriver and snips to do enough damage to finally convince it to give way, and every bottle was undamaged. Aaaaand relax.

Miscellaneous Observations and Curiosities

So a lot of people have been asking my how my trip was, and in typical Yorkshire style, I’ve been tending to play it down.

“Yeh, it was good,” I say, “it had its moments.”

Yes it did, and yes , it was cold… some of the time. It was nowhere near as bad as the pictures coming out of the United States the week after we left, and I understand it was worse in Toronto and Manitoba than where we were, but it did get down below -20 from time to time. I say ‘from time to time’ because in Calgary the temperature fluctuates wildly from one day to the next. In fact, they regularly experience chinook winds, which are hot winds that can raise the temperature dramatically in a very short time. These have been known to cause temperatures to increase by as much as 40 degress Celsius in as little as an hour.

So one day we might walk, freezing across a car park and get into the car to find the worst effects were carried in our jeans – which hold the cold and then transfer it to your legs when you sit down. The next day, the temperature might have risen to -3, when you go outside and say this is positively balmy. I’d sunbathe in this.

The Canadians, funny people that they are, have leather seats in a lot of their cars. Leather seats at the temperatures they have to contend with – so they have to have heating mechanisms in them. Honestly, just get your car seats made out of regular fabric.

What else? Beers. Yes, I drank lots of different kinds of Canadian beer, but I haven’t talked about it so far, and for very good reason; generally I don’t, and I didn’t keep any kind of record. The Big Rock Traditional Ale is a particularly good one, but in general they successfully tread the difficult line between good lager and refreshing ale. There were even a number of decent IPAs and double IPAs.

A quick much of a muchness update

In advance of our trip to the mountains, Mrs Cake decided to contribute to the spirit collection by buying a bottle of the Grey Goose. It’s quite a pricey vodka here in the UK, but temptingly cheap over in Canada. It’s one of them I’ve been curious about trying, but have never quite been up to stumping up that price tag.

Grey Goose is French, and according to its website, “made using only the very finest ingredients”. It also claims a “signature smoothness and distinct character”.

Yeah… I don’t like it. I’m not saying it doesn’t have a distinct character; that awful, floral flavour is something I’ll never forget –and hope never to experience again, but it’s that same flavour that to me is the opposite of smoothness.

I’ll say one thing for Grey Goose; their website has a tool for selecting your ideal cocktail. Based on my stipulations that I want something salty, earthy, strong and rich… it tells me I want a Grey Goose Spicy Pineapple and Fig Martini, and you know what? That is what I want. Perhaps with a different vodka though.

So anyway, it’s 40%, and comes in a fancy bottle bearing multi-layered images of geese. It’s a bit ridiculous. I don’t recommend it.

I’ll leave you then, with two observations about Canada that you might find interesting. First, you can’t buy your booze in the supermarket; you have to go to a liquor store. Oddly though, some of the liquor stores are clearly affiliated with the supermarkets, and situated on the same lot. Sadly, this means there are no supermarket own-brands to try.

Finally,  they have UFC on TV… in restaurants. Now, I do love watching a bit of the MMA, but for Christ’s sake, not while I’m eating!

So that’s it for this week. Thanks for joining me once again. If you’ve been following me on the Twitter you might have noticed that I’ve just got back from Spain where purchasing booze was very much on the agenda. I’m looking forward to telling you all about that in what will probably turn out to be a few months’ time. Whatever. Just make sure you come back here next week for something else. I don’t know what yet, but something else. Alright, cool.

Booze Tourism: Vietnam, man!

It has been quite some time since I had a booze tourism adventure to tell you about – I suppose the Distilgrimage would have classed as one, but I didn’t make that connection until just now… Nevertheless, this time I’ve got quite an adventure for you – such an adventure in fact, that it will have to be told in two parts. In April, the missus and I embarked on a trip to the South East Asian country of Vietnam in what we were calling Honeymoon Part 2. You can read about Honeymoon Part 1 here.

I always look forward to going away on holiday – for all the obvious reasons – but also because it means I can try lots of new different kinds of alcoholic beverage, hit the Duty Free, make some new acquisitions and all that good stuff. Deciding what to buy and thinking about buying it and then buying it are all fun things for the alcothusiast – probably exceeded only by the actual opening of it - and holidays are a time when I try to forget about cash flow realities, and just think, I am going to buy some interesting booze, and there is nothing you can do to stop me. Try it. Go on. Told you.

Beyond the Duty Free, I hadn’t really expected Vietnam to provide all that much in terms of booze excitement – Malaysia didn’t – but I couldn’t have been more wrong. In fact the Duty Free turned out to be the least interesting part, so we may as well start there. There’s lots to tell you about, so let’s get gannin’.

It was hot and noisy and I was definitely sitting in my pants

I began thinking about possible targets a good couple of weeks before departure, so that I might be best prepared when the time came to make the most of the limited purchases a traveller can make. You’re pretty much allowed a litre of spirits, but in my case it’s two litres because I had Mrs Cake’s allowance to supplement my own.

Research began with a quick look in the Rough Guide to Vietnam, where I read about ruou can, which is rice distilled liquor and thought that might be an interesting option. Then I read about Mekong Whisky on the internet, but some reviews suggested it might make you ill. On top of that, it seemed that it was made in Thailand, was more like rum than whisky, and wasn’t even available any more in any case. I’ll put you out of your misery; none of this proved useful since I didn’t see either of those products anywhere.

Since my early forays into research proved so unsuccessful, I started thinking laterally. I figured Vietnam is near Japan, isn’t it? Yes, kind of, so wouldn’t it make sense that Duty Free in Vietnam would be a good place to pick up some Japanese single malts? Stands to reason.

With that in mind, I started some over-geeky, exhaustive research.

Japanese whisky is renowned for its quality. According to Jim Murray’s 2013 Whisky Bible, the atmospheric conditions in Japan are preferable to those in Scotland, to the degree that 42 summers in Japan are equivalent to 70 in Scotland in terms of whisky maturation. I’m not really sure how useful that is; how often do you hear of scotch being aged 70 years? I keep reading that whisky can be over-aged, so if anything is going to be over-aged, surely it’s going to be the 70 year old stuff… why not just say 7 years in Japan is equivalent to 12 in Scotland? Why, Jim?

I had tried Japanese whisky just once previously myself – Suntory Hibiki 17 – and I was duly impressed. I figured this was as good a chance as any to get my hands on a bottle of my own.

I found a few websites that were dedicated to Japanese whisky (linked on the right of this page…), and left them each comments, letting them know I was finding their information useful, and one of them actually replied… to tell me that they had been to Vietnam, and from what they could remember, there wasn’t any Japanese whisky in the Duty Free, but wished me luck anyway. Undeterred, I figured there would surely be something at Dubai airport – where we had to catch connecting flights in both directions, so I wasn’t worried. Just to bring some of the excitement of purchasing booze forward a little, I also decided I’d pick something up from the Duty Free at Manchester Airport for consumption during the holiday… something I suspect I’ll be doing more frequently from now on.

I figured a 35cl bottle would do, since I didn’t want to be discouraged from picking up and opening extra things along the way.

I’d like to note at this point that there were three or four Japanese single malts available in Manchester Airport’s Duty Free – Suntory Hibiki, Yamazaki and the like. I’d already decided though, that I wanted to spend less than £15 and get a single malt scotch. They had various expressions of Glenfiddich in 20cl form, as well as the blend Johnnie Walker Blue in 35cl format, but none fitted my idea of what I wanted to get for my money. I opted for a 35cl bottle of Glenfarclas 10 year old. I’d never had this one before. It’s a Speyside single malt, and is a pretty standard 40%. Next stop; Dubai.

Glenfarclas 10 

Dubai Airport is like the hub of the whole world. It’s like the cantina in Star Wars; people from all over the universe passing through on their way elsewhere… It’s great seeing such a diverse range of people peacefully coexisting and going about their business. Our schedule didn’t afford us much time to hang out there this time, but there was ample opportunity to scout out possible purchases for the return leg. As you might expect, there was a lot of scotch, but once again, there were no Japanese malts, so I would have to pin my hopes on Duty Free at Ho Chi Minh City, which would be our departure point on the return leg.

On arriving at our hotel in Ho Chi Minh City, a good 15 hours or more (without sleep) after our 8pm departure from Manchester, I considered postponing the opening of the Glenfarclas, to build up a bit of anticipation, but then I thought… phuckit, I may as well try it now, on our balcony, in the searing evening heat, in me pants.

HCMC

Here’s a picture of it out on the balcony. Unfortunately you can’t feel the heat, hear the noise, or see me sitting in my pants, but take it from me, it was hot and noisy and I was definitely sitting in my pants – photo evidence of that exists, though if you saw it, you might think there were no pants…

I was a bit disappointed to find that the bottle had a screwcap. I think that’s the first time I’ve seen a single malt without a cork – even on a 35cl bottle. Mind you, this was only the first 35cl bottle I’d ever bought, and I think I’ve only ever owned one other, so it might be more common than I think. You can let me know in the comments if you like.

If there was ever any doubt over my geek credentials, let me just dispel the rumours by saying, yes, I did consider taking a Glencairn glass with me, so that I might be able to give my purchase a proper nosing and tasting. Common sense prevailed though, and I settled on using whatever type of glass was provided in each hotel room. As a result perhaps, my tasting notes are somewhat lacking. I’ve got nothing under ‘nose’, and under ‘palate’ all I have is ‘soft, light and pleasingly oily – a little bit of sherry in there, I think’.

That impression was gleaned progressively throughout tastings in HCMC, Hanoi, Halong Bay and finally, Can Tho in the Mekong Delta, where I polished it off while watching week old Premier League action on the TV. My moment of maximum appreciation (which is now going to be a ‘thing’ that will henceforth be abbreviated to MOMA – every bottle has one) came one night previously in our honeymoon suite in Hanoi. Sweet and delicate. Nice. I think I’ll buy this again some time. I wonder whether it benefited to some extent from the hot and humid climate.

at Halong Bay

So how did I get on with procuring some Japanese single malt? Well, I’ll tell you: I didn’t. On the whole trip – which took in several destinations and airports – I only saw one bottle of Japanese single malt whisky. It was in a fancy looking liquor store in Hanoi, and it didn’t have a price on it. I didn’t bother asking as there seemed to be a family in there having their evening meal. As I was flying back to HCMC the next day, and still had some Glenfarclas, I didn’t want two glass bottles in my bag, pushing the weight allowance and potentially causing breakage.

By this point I had decided that, should Duty Free in HCMC be disappointing, I’d save my allowance (like I’m a teenager in a film from the 80s) until returning to Dubai, at which point I’d get a very reasonably priced bottle of Wild Turkey 101 (50.5% ABV), like the first time I went to Canada. I didn’t realise back then that whiskies were produced in different expressions, so when Mrs Cake bought me a bottle of Wild Turkey a couple of years later, I couldn’t figure out why it was only 40%, and wondered whether I had imagined the stronger version.

Ultimately HCMC Airport did turn out to be disappointing, the only highlight being a free sample of Camus Ile de Re Cliffside Cellar Cognac, which I’d never heard of before, but saw throughout the airports of Vietnam. They gave me a little dribble, and I wished I’d just poured my own without asking. A full bottle was something like $110, but I could have had away with a full plastic cup, and just wandered the airport sipping it if I’d been a bit more daring. I don’t know if I could say a bottle would be worth as much as that, but I did enjoy that little dribble.

Unfortunately I didn’t even get chance to pop back in to Duty Free in Dubai, as our plane was boarding by the time we got to the gate. Nevermind. I’d spent a bit more money than expected, and figured I’d just save my budget and buy a bottle of Japanese single malt when I got home – I’d got over £40 in Amazon vouchers to use, and that seems like a good way to spend them. Once again, watch this space.

You can’t get drunk on three whiskies in 8 hours. You just can’t.

I have a bit of a problem when it comes to flying long distances – I’m one of those people who can’t sleep on a plane. I have to be able to lay flat on my side, and that just ain’t happening. There is no lying on your side in an airplane seat. I wonder why they don’t just do rows of bunks on aircraft instead of seats. That would work a treat. Sure, it would make the meals a little tricky, but I it would be totally worth the sacrifice.

No, no matter how tired I get, the most I can manage is a fitful 20 minutes here and there. It does make you feel a little better, but generally exacerbates the feeling that you are waking up in purgatory. In fact, on a flight back from Canada some time ago, someone told me there was a product I could buy in a pharmacy that would just put me out for the duration. Sounds great, right? Fall asleep, wake up at your destination. No. It just made me even more tired than I already was, but still unable to catch any zeds.

The only time I have been able to sleep for anything like a decent amount of time on a plane was on our return from Malaysia, where we were upgraded to Business Class. It was nice having all that room, and chairs that recline almost (but not near enough) to flat, but even this was annoying because they had three types of scotch in business class, of varying ages, that I would have liked to have tried if I’d been awake on the rare occasions they came round.

So, how was I going to deal with two consecutive flights of around 8 hours each, starting at 8 in the evening, this time? Well, the benefit of flying with airlines like Emirates is… that the alcohol is free. So I was just going to drink whisky the whole way – and I was looking forward to that.

It’s surprising though, how challenging this can be. First you have to wait for take off, after which it can take an age for the drinks trolley to reach your seat. Then you have no idea how long it’s going to be until next time. Maybe there will be a meal first, maybe not. You could just keep calling the stewardess over, but you don’t want to be a dick demanding drinks for 8 hours. They’re probably told to monitor alcohol intake. Then you can’t just lose yourself in your book, or in listening to music or watching films because you have to be on a constant state of alertness. If you’re not, they just slink past, assuming you’re not going to want anything. We were also in a kind of stewardess no-man’s land where it appeared they were about to start every run with our row, but then they’d just fuck off and start right at the back or right at the front and get to us last.

On the first flight (Manchester to Dubai), I managed a paltry three drinks. That’s piss poor. In fact, I’m pretty sure I had to get up and ask for one of them. I ask you.

The scotch in question was Johnnie Walker Red, which I always profess to not being very fond of. I have to say though, I thoroughly enjoyed it (at first). It was light and smooth, and I swear I could taste a bit of the Caol Ila that is famously in there, though obviously it didn’t come anywhere near the complexity of the Islay malt. It also lacked the sweetness. By my third though, I had started to feel I was immune to its flavour, and needed something else.

Mrs Cake asked me if I was getting drunk. I said you can’t get drunk on three whiskies in 8 hours. You just can’t.

Luckily on the second leg of the trip (Dubai to HCMC), I learned that they also had Dewar’s White Label, which I hadn’t had before, and was glad to be able to give it a try. It contains an element of the sweetness that the JW Red lacks. I managed about 5 of these, which I thought was fairly good going. At one point the steward actually gave me two at once (just in case). I had started to order ‘whisky and coke’ so that I could knock back the coke for refreshment before sipping the whisky at leisure for prolonged periods.

Except for the demoralising tiredness, tension over when I could next request a drink, and strain of maintaining the degree of alertness that facilitating consistent plane-drinking requires, it was a fairly enjoyable flight. They need to get those drinks out a bit quicker and more frequently, though.

I was hoping to have a nice booze buzz when I we arrived at HCMC, but I was still sober as a judge.

On the way back I was a little less in the mood for drinking, but there’s always some part of me that says, ‘you may as well’, so I decided to see what kind of brandy they had, and it was Hennessey VSOP, another I hadn’t tried previously. It was pretty good, and though I had only the one, I’m fairly sure I enjoyed it more than the Courvoisier VSOP that I had a bottle of some time ago. It’s smoother on the palate, and a bit less bitter on the finish.

That then, concludes part 1 of Vietnamese booze tourism. Join me next week for part two when I’ll be getting a bit more ensconced in things that are actually Vietnamese and talking about beer, vodka and unusual Vietnamese drinks – amongst other things.

Booze Tourism Part 3 - Canada

Popular Canadian souvenirs - maple syrup, mountie stuff, smoked salmon.

Being Canadian but living in the UK, my fiancée Brenda has to alternate her Christmases - spending one with me and my family, and the next back in Canada with hers, so this year it was time to go back to Canada, and I had promised to go with her. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d been to Canada, but it would be my first Canadian Christmas, and my first visit since becoming a booze tourist.

On my first visit I’d made sure to bring back a bottle of Wild Turkey, because I wanted to feel like Hunter S. Thompson (some say he drank Chivas Regal, but from reading his books, I remember a lot of Wild Turkey…), but as I said; I wasn’t a booze tourist then.

Canada is a good place to be a booze tourist. They have lots of different varieties of beer, and they are well situated geographically to take advantage of imports of bourbon and Tennessee whiskies from the USA as well as tequila from Mexico and rum from the Caribbean. I like all of those varieties of liquor, but they wouldn’t be on my shopping list this time. I had already decided that I’d be sourcing some Canadian whisky, and I made sure I was fully prepared with some pre-trip internet research.

I’d just like to namecheck a couple of websites here that I found useful. The first is http://www.canadianwhisky.org/. It focuses exclusively on Canadian Whisky and is filled with in depth reviews utilising a simple 5 star scoring system. The second is http://therumhowlerblog.wordpress.com/. This site contains tons of reviews of different kinds of gin, rum, vodka, tequila and of course whisky, as well as having a list of cocktails, and serving suggestions for each spirit reviewed. I have no idea how this guy has had enough time to try all these drinks, but it’s quite a collection, and I can only assume he doesn’t have a wife telling him that he drinks too much. He has a much more complicated rating system than canadianwhisky.org, but it certainly proved very useful for me.

Both these sites are valuable resources if you’re researching purchases for your next trip to Canada, and you’ll probably find the information on them far more useful than anything you’ll find on my blog, so go and check them out once you’ve finished reading this post.

I had tried some Canadian whiskies before, including Highwood and a couple of varieties of Canadian Club (thanks, Brenda!), but this time I was determined to be a bit more choosey. Visiting a liquor store was pretty much the only thing on my to do list for the trip, and I actually visited three or four before we left Calgary. They tended to stock (pretty much) the same stuff, so it was just a matter of finding the most competitive prices.

So where should you be focusing your attention when making purchases during a booze tourism adventure? Set your own rules here (because remember; there are no rules), but I like to look for something local, authentic/traditional, and something I can’t get at home.

I did quite well with my purchases on all those scores, though neither of my choices were local to Alberta (which is where Brenda’s family lives, and where my booze shopping took place) they are specifically Canadian.

Crown Royal is one of the most popular Canadian whiskies, so I decided to go for the Crown Royal Black, with is 5% stronger and a few dollars more expensive (but significantly cheaper than at www.thewhiskyexchange.com) . It is darker in colour than the standard, and the flavour is similar, but a little richer – I know because the future mother-in-law bought me a bottle of the standard Crown Royal for Christmas. That’s a nice whisky too, and probably the pick of all the bottles I have available at the time of writing. Crown Royal also comes in a nifty cloth bag, that I suppose serves to protect your liquor from sunlight if you haven’t got a cupboard to keep it in.

I’d decided to buy a second bottle to bring home with me, and for that one I went with Gibson’s Finest 12 Year Old. Again, this is the next step up from the normal Gibson’s, and it’s only available in Canada – I read that they can’t produce enough of it to export for some reason – maybe the Canadians drink a lot of it. This one has a very mild flavour compared to the Crown Royal. It’s sweet and pleasant, but not full-flavoured enough to dilute with ice.

The Crown Royal comes in a weird crown-shaped bottle, while the Gibson’s comes in a portly one, not dissimilar to the Bailey’s Irish Cream bottle in shape, though it is transparent so you can see how much is left – unlike Bailey’s where you’re always asking, “have I got enough left to make this cocktail?”  

There is one drawback with the Gibson’s – it has a screwcap with such a smooth action that it is almost impossible to resist spinning it off at high velocity. This almost always results in a series of fumbled catches leading to a frenzied chase around the kitchen floor – and if you’re extremely unlucky a foray into the furry depths beneath the fridge, or even having to pull the fridge out. Be warned; go easy on that cap.

Now, you’re only allowed to bring one 1.14l bottle of hard liquor back from Canada – that’s a good deal larger than a standard bottle, but not as big as two bottles, so if you do want to stick to your limits and you want to bring more than one variety home with you, you’re going to need a friend. I bought 75cl bottles. Brenda kindly offered to carry one for me. That still left me with two, but I was able to polish off the Crown Royal Black by New Year’s Day, thanks to a late night cigar/whisky-share deal I was able to arrange with someone we met at the Toronto wedding we’d been invited to on New Year’s Eve – though he was calling it ‘scotch’ for some reason. It seemed inappropriate to correct him.

 I’d opened it a week or so before so that Brenda’s brother Brian could try it (he was familiar with the standard Crown Royal, but likes to mix it with coke – still, it’s nice to share… and have an excuse to open a new bottle) and then I was able to dip into it from time to time in the evenings.

So given that the remaining bottles were 75cl that left us a little under the limit, even with the little Bruichladdich Rocks bottle (20cl) that Brian gave me. So it was a most successful trip. Not that anyone ever checks at Customs, but maybe they will one day.

I finished the Bruichladdich Rocks a couple of months after returning home, having been hanging on to the last drop for a while. I didn’t want to fritter it away willy-nilly because, even though it’s a blend of young single malts (6-8 years old), it had a complex flavour, and was one of the most interesting whiskies I’ve tried so far. It did tend to cause a slight burn on my tongue though, which is something I don’t notice very often, and is supposed to be the reason that real whisky experts add a drop or two of water. I still haven’t tried that, but I have heard that you can tell how aged a whisky is by where on your tongue it burns – young ones at the front, older further to the back.

I tried the standard Bruichladdich 10 year old recently on a recent visit to the Lake District and, while it was nice, I actually prefer the Rocks so far. It can take a few more drinks to really know what to think about a whisky though, and I only had one double. I think I’ll be investing in a full bottle the next time I’m in the market for a single malt - it’s among the contenders, anyway.

Canadian whisky is in nature very different to scotch. In my layman’s terms I’d say it tends to be sweeter and less complex but still enjoyable and worth getting your hands on.

I had been tempted to pick up some ice wine before returning home, but it’s fairly expensive, and my budget was worryingly stretched by that point, so I didn’t even pick up anything else in Duty Free. We get paid early in December, and my November wages was all gone on gifts, so December’s had to last 6 weeks. I don’t usually have to fit a two week holiday (and the necessary booze tourism that comes with it) into that equation, so I had to forego the ice wine.

Ice wine is made by leaving the grapes on the vine until sometime after the first frost, so that they freeze. Then they are pressed, making a sweet, syrupy wine that is very pleasant for sipping. The bottles are only half the size of normal wine bottles, but I recommend you give it a try - they were doing a nice German one in Aldi at a reasonable price a while ago, so there’s no excuse for not seeking one out - unless you’re ashamed to be seen in Aldi.

In Canada they have a huge fondness for beer. I’ve found that people will offer you a beer the moment you arrive at their house – even if it’s 10 in the morning. It seems that the general rule is: if beer is available, then it is acceptable to drink it. Most times 10am is even a little early for me, but it certainly is encouraging – especially when it’s your future mother-in-law. She stocked up on some cans for our stay – some Coors Lite (which isn’t light in alcohol compared to most British lager) and a selection of beers from the local Big Rock brewery, which we’d actually toured during our last visit. That had been the first time I’d ever visited a brewery, and I have to say: I don’t find information about how beer is made very interesting. Just get me to the tasting part, and the part where you can choose any six varieties to take home.

In general your Canadian beer is like a cross between lager and ale, so it’s perfectly drinkable and comes in a staggering number of varieties. It was nice to have my own private stash that I was expected to polish off during my stay – and the quantity was sufficient, so there wasn’t any awkwardness about drinking too much - which is ideal, because I wasn’t drinking too much. Good.

Frankly, to give a full impression of the drinking culture in Canada, I’d probably have to write a PhD, so that ain’t happening. I can tell you we had a pretty terrific time – without going into too many details about what we did (stick to the booze, stick to the booze) and I hope I’ve given you at least a little useful information should you be planning a trip there. Be sure to check out those websites if you do. I’m sure they’ll help you make the most of your Canadian booze tourism experience.

I’ll see you next time for some more general ruminations on booze and booze related products.