Whisky Stones

Do you like your whisky cold, but find the way ice melts and dilutes your drink inconvenient? No, me neither, but if you do, there is another product on the market that aims to alleviate this problem, leaving your whisky’s strength and flavours intact – whisky stones.

Do you like how I just assumed everyone feels the same way as me in that opening paragraph? Yeh, I know, some people probably do have that problem, whereas I don’t really see the need – I like whisky, and room temperature suits me just fine. In fact, significantly warmer than room temperature – say 35 degrees Celsius – was very nice when I was drinking the Glenfarclas in Ho Chi Minh City.

Nevertheless, shall we see what all the fuss is about? Will these prove to be any better than the ice balls that I featured a couple of years ago?

So, what are they? They are little soap stone cubes that you pop in your freezer for a few hours, before dropping them into a rocks glass (3 should suffice), and pouring your dram of choice over them, until they are almost covered. They are supposed to chill your drink without diluting it, and then maintain the cooler temperature for a sufficient amount of time. Then, when you are done with them you can just rinse them and put them back in the freezer – that’s one advantage over the ice balls; they had to be washed after use.

I’m boring myself talking about these already, but let’s crack on, then it’ll be one more week’s post sorted…

I decided to conduct an experiment, trying the same brand of whisky in four states; neat, on the rocks, chilled (in the fridge) and with the whisky stones. That should give us a happy buzz, but more importantly, tell us all we need to know about whisky stones and their efficacy. Come to think of it now, I could’ve done a direct comparison between the stones and the balls, but I suspect we threw the balls away some time ago.

So! Since you already know that I like my whisky neat and at room temperature, it seemed logical that I shouldn’t be using one of my favourite malts for this experiment. Every drop is sacred, so I would need something that I don’t mind sloshing around a bit. I give you Jack Daniel’s Old No 7. Don’t get me wrong; it’s nice enough but it was either that, the Glen Scotia 16, the Strathisla 12, the Ballantine’s (of which there wasn’t enough left, and that I was saving for a future test) or opening a new bottle. It was decided.

I put the stones in the freezer and a sample of Jack in the fridge. Tempting as it was to try four samples concurrently - it was Saturday - and while I was up for getting slightly smashed at home, I wanted to save some of my drinking capacity for later on – get some of the nice stuff out. The first test then, would be whisky stones vs the refrigerator.

Now, people don’t tend to keep their whisky in the fridge – but why not? You keep your soft drinks in the fridge, and they are cold enough. It’s probably because of the amount of time a bottle of whisky can last… and the number of bottles some whisky enthusiasts like to keep on the go - though with a little forward planning you can just put a few small samples in there.

Whatever, what happened? Well, the packaging on my whisky stones instructed me to use a rocks glass. I actually decided to use the Bruichladdich branded glass that I bought from the distillery (pictured), and haven’t used more than once. It is like a rocks glass, but has more of a tulip shape, supposedly to aid with nosing.

There are no such limitations when it comes to refrigeration. I decided to use a glencairn glass, because I could, and that way we would see how much the chilling had affected the aromas.

One of the first things I noticed was that neither sample was giving off any nose, so that is a definite mark against. The flavour is most important, but the nose is an enjoyable aspect of whisky tasting.

Next, you can’t help but notice how heavy these stones make your glass - I’m sure you would get used to it, so it isn’t important, but they are pretty heavy – and they don’t make your drink as cold as ice does. I’m thinking that, surely if you take your whisky with ice, it’s because you like it ice cold. Maybe not, I don’t know, I don’t know why you can’t just drink it at room temperature, or stick your glass in the fucking fridge for 20 minutes…

Then, the palate… there wasn’t much determinable difference in temperature between the two samples, so that confirms that you can keep your whisky in the fridge as an alternative if you so wish. Or if you currently keep your whisky in the fridge, and are looking for an alternative, you can use the stones.

In terms of tasting though, I detected Jack Daniel’s’ phantom banana notes in both samples, and while this appears less prevalent at room temperature, I did feel ultimately that the chilling masked some of JD’s subtler nuances. I would find out more specifically when I moved onto the neat and on the rocks varieties, which I decided would not have to be carried out in a head-to-head (rock non-stop) fashion.

So! Neat. Yes, that’s the JD, the way I’m coming to know it; dark, charred and woody. And no banana. I’m not really sure how I feel about the banana – I don’t like them generally, though their essence doesn’t ruin the JD. It’s more interesting that there is an essence of them in there than that they have an overt dominance of the spirit’s character.

But what about with ice? Well that’s a different prospect altogether. You can’t get away from the fact that the ice does melt. Yes it makes your whisky cold, but if you like the taste of the whisky, the elements of that flavour that you enjoy so much are diminishing by the minute. If you don’t like the taste, I don’t think you should be drinking it in the first place.

No one can make a cup of tea for you, the way you like it, but yourself. And by the same token, the right way to drink your whisky is your way. My way is neat, at room temperature so no matter what my opinion of rocks vs ice is, I am not the market this product is aimed at. Maybe you need to try them for yourself. I just think that if you do drink your whisky with ice, you do that because that’s how you like it… so why do you need another way?

As a bonus, these particular whisky stones were accompanied by a book… which is fairly interesting but can’t be treated as a whisky guide, as such. In it Jim Murray writes at good length about each of the distilleries in Scotland, Canada and the United States and it is diverting enough if you’re interested. I tend to refer to it from time to time, but it only directly refers to one expression from each distillery, so it isn’t too useful if you already have a basic knowledge and want a bit of advice. Still, if you like whisky, you probably like reading about it to some extent too.

Now, I don’t know whether my lack of enthusiasm for this subject came across (I suspect it did), but if it did, hopefully it was still worth your while reading and hopefully you’ll come back. I’ll be a bit less cynical next week, when I’ll be looking at another tequila brand – Sauza this time. Until then, enjoy your drinking – I know I will.

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...

Golfageddon

In a change to this week’s planned post that I did myself the favour of not advertising in advance, I’m going to take you back now to some “research” that I did in July of this year. And by “research”, I mean drinking heavily and playing golf in Spain - an event that we chose to christen Golfadeggon. San Javier in Murcia, was the location, where there are more British per capita than there are in Manchester. That’s not necessarily a fact; it’s just intended to give you an impression of how many British people live and visit there. You don’t need a word of Spanish, but I found that you can mightily impress the locals with just a tiny bit – one taxi driver was bowled over when I handed him a two euro tip and said, “para ousted.”

“Oh-ho-ho! Speak Spanish!”

“Uh… un poco.”

With our flight at around 3pm, plans were made to meet at the airport at 12.15 – for ‘a few scoops’. When I got that message from Chris, I thought he meant he wanted to play golf before we went (if you knew him, you’d understand), so I said, “no, I’d best not; I don’t want to mess up my game before we even get there.”

A couple of days later I asked what time he wanted to meet at the airport, and he asked if I’d been drunk the other night, since he’d already told me – 12.15.

I wasn’t, as it happens, but now I understand what “a few scoops” is; it’s a few drinks. I suppose that should go in the Booze Terminology section…

So it came to pass that the four of us – myself, David, Chris and John – met in the upstairs bar in Terminal 1 of Manchester Airport, where they actually have some interesting beers on tap. I stuck with Amstel – little did I know it would be wall to wall Amstel in San Javier, where it was an astonishing 2.2 euros per pint up and down the strip.

One night I asked if they had any Spanish lager, whereupon the English waiter said, “Amstel”, to which I replied, “Amstel isn’t Spanish” and Chris chimed in with, “It’s Dutch.”

“Is it?” said the waiter. “I literally had no idea that was the case.”

Amstel it was, then.

We did pick up some Estrella in the supermarket, but it wasn’t the red kind you get in Barcelona. Instead the cans were green, and looked to have been brewed in Murcia. Later, at the airport, we found some red cans and discovered that the red variety is a noteworthy 5.4% ABV, while the green is a disappointing-but-still-not-to-be-sniffed-at 4.8%.

Unfortunately, the green one isn’t as tasty as the red.

I was a little disappointed at the beer choices because I like Spanish lager; Estrella, San Miguel, Cruzcampo, Alhambra, Mahou… they’re all good. I suppose that’s what you get for going to a largely British resort. Still, at least it wasn’t a choice between Carling and Fosters.

Since we were staying in an apartment on the golf complex – as far from both the course itself, and the actual town as it was possible to be… we made it top priority to get supplies in on the first night. I knew that soft drinks, beer, bacon, eggs and bread would all be essential, but was surprised to see everyone else’s baskets piled high with biscuits, sweets and chocolate. I didn’t even pick up a basket because all I wanted was beer, whisky and perhaps aguardiente de orujo.

DYC 10...

...and in the shower

John had located a Spanish single malt, DYC 10 year old, while I was still seeking out the booze aisle. “I want that. Where did you find it?”

I hotfooted it off to get one of my own. It’s packaged in a chunky Bruichladdich style bottle, weighs in at a standard 40% and cost under 15 euros.

That very evening I cracked it open, eased out the oversized cork, and sampled the malty goodness. I had actually been looking for the DYC 8 year old blend that scored a remarkable 90 in Jim Murray’s 2013 Whisky Bible [clean and cleverly constructed, he says, “Just so enjoyable!”]… but they didn’t have that. I figured a 10 year old single malt must surely be even more interesting, though I didn’t recall reading anything about it in the guide. Well, we all liked it anyway. Light-bodied and easy-drinking, we would get through three bottles of this between us over the course of the week.

David also bought a Spanish blended whisky called John Cor. That one was under 5 euros, and John confessed to preferring it over the DYC.

I uh… don’t remember too much about the John Cor. It certainly wasn’t bad – for 5 euros – but I don’t think I’d want to pay too much more for it. Spirits are so cheap in Spain as a matter of course that you don’t ever need to buy anything that cheap. It becomes more the sort of thing that you go, “well, if this is only 11 euro, I may as well also get this at 5 euro”, because it’s still cheaper than a bottle of Bells at home, and you’re getting two interesting new bottles.

Chris' Johnnie Walker Red (after a day)

Chris went for a Johnnie Walker Red, which he finished off in a little over two days – with coke, I might add – but he can’t drink beer like the rest of us and cider can be hard to find in Spain, so he had to have something to rely on.

As a result of all this freely flowing booze, my poor hipflask didn’t get a look-in. One swig on the first day was all it got, and ever after it was just sat on the kitchen counter. I had considered taking it on a round of golf with me, but the need to maximise my performance asserted itself from day one, and by the 5^th of the 6 rounds I had started playing the best golf of my life and didn’t want to jeopardise getting a great score.

I did get my best ever score for the course we played (which I had played 5 times previously, two years ago) – 118, but it still wasn’t a great score. And that wasn’t even on the days when I was playing my best golf! On the best days I was striking the ball beautifully, but hitting all the hazards and getting some rotten luck. Still, I now feel great about golf again – no doubt until my next round, when I’ll realise I’ve forgotten the technique that started working so well for me.

Our general routine for the next week revolved around golf, booze and food. If we had a morning round it would be up and out, a breakfast of Coca-Cola and chocolate, followed by lunch and a couple of pints at the clubhouse after the golf, before swimming, cans, possibly a snooze, and a shower at the apartment before heading to the main drag where the evening would be spent eating and drinking at the various bars and restaurants.

We took in some of the entertainment, which was limited to one-man tribute acts singing to recordings, and in one place for which we had free drinks vouchers, a Michael Jackson act that was a guy dancing to a live Michael Jackson video… Chris spent about an hour at the bar trying to get our free mojitos in there.

If we had an afternoon round, it would be a lie in, followed by lounging around, golf, a couple of pints at the clubhouse, a shower and straight out for dinner and more drinks. I tried to take a whisky into the shower with me every day, as any good alcothusiast should. 

We got a couple of games of poker in, using lightweight Monopoly money instead of chips, but I was having no luck. I think we were all pretty smashed by the time we got down to it anyway, so there was far less caution and far less tension that there usually is.

Time at the clubhouse and on the strip was invariably accompanied by an opening period of silence as everyone got onto the various free wi-fi and played Super Stickman Golf 2 and Wordfeud – intermittently glancing up to watch for passing freaks and ghouls. The pints go down easy, and the food, while unadventurous, is good. Being lads, we nary saw a vegetable the whole time we were there. It was pretty much meat, chips and bread all the way.

So 108 holes of golf, and seven days after arrival, the day of departure came. It was beer for breakfast for me, as we still had a few cans left. We followed that up with an afternoon sat in a bar on the strip, eating chicken wings and drinking beers until it was time to get to the airport… and Duty Free – one last thing to look forward to.

I had decided to get at least one purchase in before the airport because I figured there was a risk – with Murcia Airport being tiny – that there wouldn’t be much choice on offer. I’d been hoping to get one of those exclusive to international travel Highland Park expressions, but knew the chances of this would be low.

I called at the supermarket a day or two early then to pick up a bottle of the standard Cutty Sark blended scotch (40% ABV). It’s readily available throughout Spain, but much harder to find in the UK. It features in my 101 Whiskies to Try Before You Die book, and at 11 euro, is perfect for a casual purchase, leaving room for further acquisitions later on. It was tempting to get something else at this time too, since you can nearly bring back as much as you want, but I was worried about the possibilities of breakages within my golf travel bag. The stingey weight allowance on Jet2 of 20kg doesn’t allow for much clothing alongside your golf clubs to pad out the contents.

 I wrapped the Cutty Sark in a towel, stuffed it in one of the larger pockets of my golf bag, and stuffed a few more clothes on either side.

Duty free was slightly disappointing, but there was still enough there to choose from. There are two shops selling booze, but from what I remember, the only scotch on offer is the standard Glenfiddich 12. Instead I focused on the Spanish stuff, where in the second of the two shops I found the DYC 8 (40% ABV) that I had been looking for. It was only 14 euro, so I figured I may as well get something else as well, and went back to the first shop to get some Gran Duque D’Alba Solera Gran Riserva brandy de Jerez that was 20% off at 21 euro. The Cardinal Mendoza was there too, but I decided to try something different this time.

A good haul really, and one that leaves me with 6 unopened bottles of spirits back at the old homestead. I’ve decided to finish one or two before I open anything new, but with me, you know that’s not going to be long.

It wasn’t all good outcomes. Despite a lovely enthusiastic welcome from Mrs Cake, we discovered the week long alcohol abuse has left me with a vastly inflated belly. I’m hoping that works itself off naturally, since with my back, sit-ups are out of the question. On top of that, because of all the holiday cigars, I just felt so dirty – and not in a good way. At least, not just in the good way. I mean, I always have that general background feeling of dirtiness anyway. That ain’t going nowhere.

So, let me see, were there any particularly funny moments? I don’t remember anyone falling over in a comical manner or anything like that but… Chris’ profligate swearing through the various rounds of golf had us all laughing. One time he exclaimed, “You son of a fuck!” which we soon transposed into “Son of a fucking fuck” and rode on for the rest of the week.

There was one time on the course where David had a particularly tricky bunker to get out of, and hit two or three shots before the ball jumped out into the heavy rough just in front of the bunker. On his next shot the ball jumped right back into the bunker where it began. Oh, I howled with laughter. I don’t think that’s considered good etiquette on a golf course, but it lightens the mood, and I’d prefer people to laugh at me when something like that happens, than they remain po-faced.

There was definitely a lot of laughing, but those are the instances of note that I recall.

I’m not sure I’ll be able to justify tagging along next year too with further booze tourism adventures already in the planning stage, but definitely the year after that.

Gran Duque d'Alba

So I hope you’ve enjoyed the brief travelogue and have had a terrific weekend so far. I’ll see you next week with something else, hopefully.

Booze Battle: Dewar's 12 vs Jim McEwan's Symphony

In a slight change to this week’s scheduled post, we have a comparative tasting of two kinds of blended scotch. On the one hand we have Dewar’s 12 year old, “double aged” while on the other it’s Jim McEwan’s Symphony No. 1.

If you’ve been to this blog before, you might be aware that I’ve had the Dewar’s for some time now, having picked up a litre bottle in Duty Free last September. It’s been a bit of a grower. I wouldn’t call it special, but it ain’t bad at all. I’d almost completely finished it, but I decided to hang on to the last dram until I’d procured another blend to compare it with and, thanks to my recent distilgrimage to Islay, I had a contender.

 Jim McEwan’s Symphony No 1 was available in the Bruichladdich distillery shop. Jim is Bruichladdich’s master distiller and is highly respected having worked for 38 years at Bowmore from the age of 15 before moving to Bruichladdich in 2001. I’ve mentioned him on this blog before, way back in the beginning when I was professing a liking for the Bruichladdich Rocks expression. He is probably the first individual I ever heard of in the industry, so I was chomping at the bit to find out what this blend, which is comprised of Islay, Speyside, Highland and Lowland malts, was like. It doesn’t say anything about containing grain whisky in the mix, so I’m not sure what that might mean – because it doesn’t say anything about being a blended malt or vatted malt either.

the symphony

I’ve decided to do things a little differently this time and compare each whisky across a number of categories, just for the sake of variety. In spite of all this, there is only one statistic that really counts, and that is how tasty the whisky is.

The first thing I suppose we should discuss is price. These blends are not equally matched in that respect. The Dewar’s was a Duty Free purchase, and that showed up on my credit card bill at £28.53 for a litre. That’s roughly what you’d be looking to pay in a supermarket for 70cl generally, so it isn’t a cheap blend. I can’t say that it strikes me as much better than your standard Whyte and MacKay Special, but it sure costs about £10+ more.

Jim McEwan’s Symphony no 1 on the other hand comes in at a stunningly wallet-friendly £13 for 70cl. You’ve got to give it a go at that price. In comparison then, you’re getting 5.38cl to the pound with Symphony and only 3.51cl to the pound with the Dewar’s – and that one’s at Duty Free prices.

Price category winner: Jim McEwan’s Symphony No 1

I suppose that while we’re talking price, we should also talk availability. Dewar’s is pretty widely available but as far as I can tell so far, Symphony is only available from the Bruichladdich distillery shop. So while that would potentially make it more sought after, it means you’re looking at a trip to Islay to get hold of a bottle. Not that you would, but if you did go to Islay for the express purpose of buying a bottle of Symphony No 1, that could potentially increase the cost of your purchase from £13 to… well, let’s take the cost of my trip:

Diesel £70

Ferry £80 (for two people and a car – you don’t want to go on your own, do you?)

Accommodation £90

So not including incidental expenses and assuming you live in Manchester, or somewhere £70 in fuel away… you’d be looking at £253. Not such a bargain now, eh? But I’m not going to look at it like that, because my trip was a nice weekend away, and I bought a couple of other bottles anyway – it was more a case of, well, while I’m here, I may as well pick up a bottle of that also…

Since making my purchase, and seeking Symphony out on the internet, I’ve found two auction sites; one where a bottle was sold for £25, and another where the bottle was expected to sell for £75 to £100. Quite astounding, really. It all combines to give Symphony an air of mystique that I hoped it could live up to.

Make your own mind up who wins the availability category. Do you prefer exclusive or readily available? I think it depends. The rarity of Symphony makes me happy because I chose to buy a bottle without knowing anything about it, but if I was you reading this, and I wanted one, I’d find it annoying.

Ok, let’s look at aesthetic considerations:

Does it come in a box? Dewar’s does – 1 point. Yes, bottles are cooler than boxes, but it’s going to come in a bottle anyway, and if your booze cupboard is full, a box gives you further storage options.

Which is the cooler shaped bottle? A tough one, this. Neither is particularly special, but I’m going to award the point to Dewar’s for being a bit stubbier and more robust looking.

Screw-top or cork? Dewar’s is a screw top, but Symphony has a cork, and I think as such, is the first blend I’ve ever owned that has a cork. It definitely gets a point for that.

What about the label? I can’t say I’m a massive fan of that Dewar’s label that has like a cutout section. I’m thinking it would be more at home on a bottle of ale. However, the Symphony label is probably the worst I’ve ever seen. It looks like the cover of one of those £1.99 compilation CDs that you get in Tesco or Wilkinsons. Holy shit; who thought that was a good idea? So… I was tempted not to give any points here, but I suppose it will have to go to Dewar’s.

Aesthetic considerations winner: Dewar’s by 3 points to 1.

Next we have the very important consideration of alcohol content. Dewar’s is a very standard 40%, nothing remarkable there but, wait a minute, what’s this? Symphony is a groin-stirring 46%! I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a blend greater than 43% before. A quick look on The Whisky Exchange confirms that 40% is far more common, though you do get a few blended malts at 46%. Does this suggest Jim McEwan’s Symphony no 1 is a blended malt? Seems highly unlikely at £13 a bottle, but perhaps that’s a reward for making the trip out to Islay. Let’s hope so. I’d like to mention at this point that I did e-mail Bruichladdich to ask for clarification on this issue, and they haven’t replied as yet. I know they must be very busy.

Strength winner: It has to be the Symphony.

So that brings us to the important stuff. Cost and therefore value for money might have some effect on the overall rating but really, it’s all about how good does the whisky taste?

I’m not going to repeat myself too much in regard to the Dewar’s. It was decent, but the presence of grain was as self evident as any of the cheaper blends I’ve tried so far. I doubt I’d spend £25 on a bottle in future. I won’t shy away from trying some of their other expressions though – the Signature is supposed to be excellent I hear, however at £195 at The Whisky Exchange, it must figure way down my list of priorities.

Mostly then, I intend to talk about Jim McEwan’s Symphony No 1.

Ok, to my relatively inexperienced palate, this is quite a unique blend. I’ve tried all the normal ones and one or two of the more obscure ones, but I haven’t tasted a blend like this before. It’s light, playful and well-balanced. I suspect there is some grain in there, but it isn’t as obvious as I have come to expect.

In terms of nose, I’d say there’s white wine vinegar (but not in a bad way), tobacco, marzipan and citrus, while on the palate it’s quite fruity and suggests there may have been some sherry cask aging in there somewhere. There’s also a herby aroma, but I can’t quite identify which one… could be sage, but I think it will take a bit more tasting to be sure.

the symphony

This is very easy drinking, in fact, let’s not beat around the bush; it’s superb – and I never considered adding water even for a second. Why ruin it? I want to say things like ‘for a blend this is superb’ and ‘for £13, this is superb’, but no matter what you prefix it with, it is superb – which is good because it’s ‘super’ with an extra ‘b’. I wish I’d picked up another couple of bottles because it’s cheap enough to drink every day – not that I’m allowed to drink everyday, but I probably would, if left to my own devices. It’s better than that though. I doubt I’ll ever get to buy another bottle of this, but it is going straight to the head of a new list called “buy on sight”. It is actually special enough to keep in the cupboard and pull out for a treat. So I think I may have found it; that special blend that it’s easy to love. Nice one, Jim McEwan; you’ve done it again.

That’s me done for this week, then. If you’ve been in the UK for the last couple of weeks you’ll be aware that it has been drinking weather for a good long while now. We are actually having a summer. Remember it because the last one was seven years ago, and it could be that long before the next one. What this means in the short term is that it’s the weekend and there’s no excuse (aside from being skint) for not getting out and enjoying it. Whether it’s drinks in the garden or out in town, it’s time to get your drink on. Sadly I’ll be spending most of tomorrow in a hot venue listening to heavy music at Sound Control’s Summerjam festival. Ah, but what about Sunday? Sunday afternoon will be spent in various beer gardens, exercising my pint muscles. It’s going to be a good one all round. I hope yours is too. Laters.

Glencairn glasses; I can smell things too!

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

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

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

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

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

Can I have some more napkins, please?

No.

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

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

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

The important considerations though are:

                Is there any improvement in terms of nosing my whisky?

                Does it make the whisky taste any better?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Distilgrimage Part 2

Good evening, and thanks for joining me for part 2 of my Distilgrimage adventure. It’s all about a trip to the Mecca of scotch whisky making, Islay. If you missed part one, it was last week, so you can find the necessary link to that on the right hand side. Otherwise, let’s crack right on with the next bit.

Day 2

Mrs Cake had made actual plans for day two, so we had a schedule to keep. It was going to be a good day.

Before we’d set out on this trip, Mrs Cake had wanted to make sure the satnav covered Islay, while I wasn’t sure it would - given that the previous September I’d bought the Spanish map for our device only to find that Ibiza wasn’t covered in it, and had therefore had to buy that one too.

A quick work-time perusal of the Tomtom website failed to bear fruit, since it seemed you had to plug your satnav into the PC to access the map store. I decided it probably wouldn’t be necessary, as there were sure to be only a couple of roads on the island. That pretty much turned out to be true. Our hotel had proved to be immediately on the left, about 50 yards after leaving the ferry, and all that was needed after that was a basic tourist map, the like of which any hotel would be likely to provide,  to make sure you started out in the right direction. Once you’d done that, everything was signposted.

We knew then, that our first destination of the day - the Bruichladdich distillery, where we were booked on to a 1 o clock tour (I think) – was just around the bay from the town of Bowmore (home to the legendary Bowmore distillery of course), which itself was just along the coast from where we stayed in Port Ellen.

that's the Port Ellen malting plant in the distance. Be-yowtiful

 We passed the Port Ellen malting plant on the way, and then tootled inland at high speed down the longest, straightest road you’re ever going to see outside of the US or Canada, through marshland, past giant birds of prey and the airport and beauty salon, and before you know it, there we were, pulling into the town of Bowmore.

Did I mention that you can park literally anywhere on Islay? And that it’s all free? That might not sound that amazing to you but, living in Manchester, I’m used to having to pay everywhere you go, while finding a space at all can be hard enough sometimes. Not on Islay. Bosh. Straight in. I’ll have to tell me dad.

We didn’t have any plans to visit the Bowmore distillery, but we had a little time to kill and figured we could see if they’d let us have a tasting. It turned out that there was only the one lady working there that day, and she had her hands full running the shop, so we just had a look at the various bottles they were selling. There was a good variety, including some rare stuff exceeding a couple of thousands of pounds. One was as much as £7000. I didn’t take a photo as I didn’t want to dignify such extravagance. An item is only worth what someone is willing to pay for it, isn’t it? And this bottle was still in stock… I’m planning a post on whisky collecting at some point in the future, so we’ll address that a bit more seriously then, I think.

Off we went, around the bay to Bruichladdich which, on arrival looked to be under construction. The reception and shop though, was warm, spacious and comfortably laid out with a few picnic type tables, and various products adorning the walls. We were still early, so we had a look around. I’d been thinking that I would probably buy a bottle from here, so I was perusing their many different expressions.

The girl on duty said we could taste a few things while we waited to see if anyone else turned up, so naturally we did. She brought out the Bruichladdich Rocks and the 12 year old, both of which I’d tried before, then an Islay Barley variety, which is so called because all the barley is grown on Islay. Islay doesn’t tend to produce enough barley for all the distilleries to source it there, with much of it being imported from other parts of Scotland and (in the case of some of the other distilleries on Islay) even England. I’ve since read that the Kilchoman distillery, which is the newest on Islay actually grows its own barley on site. Bruichladdich on the other hand, deal with a few different farms on the island who grow [some but not all of their] barley for them. Each Islay barley bottling is distilled from barley that comes from only one farm.

Having tasted the wash at Lagavulin, by now I had an idea of what barley actually tastes like, and this particular expression of Bruichladdich tasted more like barley than any other kind of whisky I’d ever had before. It was quite unique in that sense, and was certainly a departure from the heavily peated styles that I’d been trying on day 1.

The bulk of production at Bruichladdich is unpeated. This is apparently because that was the style that was favoured by the previous regime. Once the distillery was acquired in 2000 the new owners decided to remain true to that style, but also started experimenting with different peat levels. I learned on the tour that 75% of production is unpeated, 15%  moderately peated and 10% heavily peated. I could be 5% out in terms of the figures I’ve presented there, but I am providing them from memory. I didn’t make any notes I’m afraid, preferring to see what stuck in my mind, and determining what I wanted to tell you from that.

We were also able to try some of the peated varieties, that Bruichladdich call the Port Charlotte expressions. If you look online for Bruichladdich products, you’ll see that there are a number that come under this title, and I’m afraid I can’t recall exactly which ones we tried. I can tell you that they were good, and would be seriously considered when it came to be time to make a purchase.

Pretty soon we were joined by three Dutch guys and a Scottish couple for the tour, where once again we were taken through the production process, allowed to try the wash and shown the stills, but this time we were allowed to take photographs, both of the two wash and two spirit stills and a unique Lomond still that they use to make their own brand of gin, The Botanist.

Stills! No, not you Stephen. Guh back to sleep

 While in the still room we were allowed to try a sample of the new make spirit, too. It came in at about 69% ABV, was obviously clear, and actually surprisingly tasty. I could probably drink it as it was, tasting as I thought it did, not unlike grappa.

I was hoping once again that we’d be allowed to see the casks, aging away in the warehouse, but sadly not.

After the tour was over, we also had the opportunity to try a few more products, including the Organic expression, which to my nose had a very cheesy aroma that put me right off, despite tasting decent enough. Mrs Cake liked that one. There was also a special variety that they kept in a cask in the corner. We were told that they create a special variety every year under a different theme (this one being Four More Years, inspired by Barack Obama’s success in securing a second term in office), that they keep casked in the shop, and allow visitors to fill a 50cl bottle for themselves for £55. Again, they let us have a taste.

Finally, we got a chance to try the gin, and that was pretty good too. It sure made a refreshing drink with tonic, and by this time, a refreshing change from all this whisky. It was just the thing needed to refresh my enthusiasm before the Premium Tasting Tour at Caol Ila.

On the map it looked like Caol Ila was on the complete opposite side of the island, so it was something of a surprise when we saw the distillery signposted after what couldn’t have been more than 10 minutes’ driving.

Being an hour and a half early, we decided to go into the shop and take a look around – mostly to see whether they had a café or anything to eat. We were informed that there was a tour starting in half an hour, which we could join for free, if we wanted (since we had our Classic Malts passports), and that we just had time to pop down to Port Askaig and pick up some food before getting back in time.

They’d told us the pub would be able to knock something up real quick, but they were fairly unceremonious about telling us we’d have to wait as 20 people had just arrived. We went to the shop across the road instead for chocolate and crisps. The relevance of this might escape you right now, but it will probably make more sense later…

The Caol Ila tour was easily the most technical of the tours we took that weekend, the guide ably filled in any gaps in our understanding and reinforced things we thought we’d learned, but didn’t really understand. We were allowed to try the wash again, but this time from four separate washbacks, each a little less sweet than the last as the sugars became alcohol. They were nearly completely full, so I was encouraged just to stick my finger in (oo-er).

The still room, as you may have heard before, is particularly impressive. The six giant stills stand in a row, by big windows that look out over the glassy water to the Isle of Jura. In terms of scale and production it is easily the largest distillery on the island, working 24 hours a day (if I remember rightly), yet considering its industrial scale, production is eerily quiet.

Given the quite beautiful setting, it would have been nice to have been able to take a photo for you, but again, being owned by Diageo, that wasn’t an option. We did remember though to ask this time whether we could see any of the spirit being aged. We know of course, that Caol Ila is aged on the mainland, but a small quantity of Lagavulin is aged here. The answer was no, but we were told the reason this time, which presumably stands for all the distilleries – unless some do let you see their product; you can let me know about that. Anyway, apparently it is because of tax laws and customs and all that. I said we’d brought our [Classic Malts] passports, but they weren’t having any of that. Ok, I said we were told the reason, not that we or you would necessarily understand it. Just take it from me; you can’t see the barrels.

I asked next about how they ensure each bottle tastes the same, and that is done by chemical analysis apparently, though obviously there is a tasting element also. The guide actually told me that the only expression they make any effort to regulate in terms of consistent flavour is the 12 year old. All the others vary according to what batch they are drawn from.

Finally then, it was time for the event I’d been waiting for… the Caol Ila Premium Tasting Tour. If it isn’t obvious already, I’m a massive fan of Caol Ila – the 12 year old is my favourite and the cask strength is awesome. I’m not put off by the fact that all the product is aged on the mainland (our guide maintained that the insides of warehouses are sheltered from any particular atmospheric conditions and that experiments with aging on Islay hadn’t produced any improvements in quality), that production is industrial and certainly modern in comparison to all the other distilleries we visited, that they are owned by Diageo, or that the vast majority of their product is made into Johnnie Walker. All that bothers me not a jot because their single malt is fucking special. You can age it in Coventry for all I care, as long as it tastes the same.

Nevertheless, some people balk at Caol Ila being called a true Islay malt. If you’re going to go that far, most other Islay malts get their barley from elsewhere, so where do you stop? Just stop, ok? The water’s from Islay, the distilling is done on Islay. Just stop.

Where was I? The tasting, what specific delights would that bring? Well first off, we were teamed up with three friendly Norwegians with whom we had crossed paths at Laphroaig the previous day, and who in fact were making their own Islay distilgrimage, though not for the first time. I think this was their third, as it seems they had a share in a cask at Bruichladdich that they visited every year. A nice, friendly bunch they were. I was a little cagey at first, but the more special Caol Ila I consumed, the friendlier I became. Once again I was in the enviable position of pretty much having two of each sample instead of just one, thanks to Mrs Cake being designated driver. The Norwegians had hired a driver, it seemed for the duration of their stay, who they were constantly tormenting by inviting him to nose their samples.

and you will know me by the trail of empties

We had been led into the big white building you can see in the picture there, and seated at a large table, each behind a row of six ready-filled Glencairn glasses, covered by giant contact lenses to hold the aromas in. We were directed by a nice lady in a hi-vis vest.

So… what did we have? There were five bottles in front of our guide, but 6 glasses in front of each of us, so it transpired that there was a special one in the mix that we wouldn’t be able to anticipate. First up was the clear, new-make spirit, which I can confirm was very nice, and again, not unlike grappa. Then there was your standard 12 year old, the un-peated 14 year old, the Distillers Edition, which is the 12 year old, finished off in Moscatel wine casks (and as a result, delectably sweet), the 25 year old, which was fruity and contained many multiple layers, and then finally there was a sample that had been aging 20 years in a sherry cask, and that had never been, nor ever would be bottled.

I was surprised at the special one, since we’d been told at one of the other distilleries that they don’t tend to age scotch in sherry casks for more than 6 months because it has such a potent effect on the flavour, so to do so for 20 years you would think would be far too much, but no, it was good.

Unlike one of our eccentric Norwegian friends, I wasn’t making any tasting notes, so I can’t give you a blow by blow account, but that’s not what this reportage is about anyway. I can tell you though, the tasting was a fun and illuminating experience – once I had my tasting faculties back after that packet of crisps.

I was well on my way by quarter past three, when the tasting was finishing, and we all headed over to the gift shop to make our purchases and taste a final sample – the Moch expression. I’m usually the least enthusiastic about free stuff, and tend to hang back until last, but the booze had me in buoyant mood, and I was practically elbowing Norwegians out of the way to get there first.

That pretty much ends my whisky travelogue, though there are still a couple of things I want to get through with you. First…

What did Mrs Cake like?

I thought you might like to know how the whole experience played out to someone who isn’t already a whisky enthusiast. I always say, there’s only room for one whisky drinker in my house, which isn’t strictly true – at least while Mrs Cake isn’t as obsessed with it as I am. If she gets to that stage, she’ll have to start buying her own. So she came to Islay purely for the purpose of indulging my enthusiasm. She didn’t get to drink as much as I did, but she did at least try a sip of everything, and she professed a liking for quite a few of the samples – this being from someone who had never actually drunk a glass of whisky before. If I’d had a particularly delicious smelling dram, I might have encouraged her to sniff it, but she rarely did, and when she did she would recoil in horror. We tried a good variety on Islay though, and it certainly wasn’t all peaty.

So what did she like? As any whisky connoisseur might suspect, she particularly liked anything that was finished in a sherry cask. The sweetness that adds transforms the whisky from a purely masculine drink to one the ladies can enjoy. So the first thing to tickle the missus’ fancy was the limited edition Lagavulin. At Caol Ila she claimed to like the new make spirit as well as the Distillers Edition (which I already told you was aged in moscatel wine casks) as well as the special sherry cask aged 20 year old, while she said she enjoyed everything she tried at Bruichladdich, including the gin.

I think the peat of Islay malts is a bit of a stumbling block for Mrs Cake, so it is telling that she enjoyed the lighter peated output of Caol Ila and Lagavulin over the heavier stuff from Ardbeg and Laphroaig. Obviously, most of Bruichladdich’s expressions are unpeated, so that follows, too.

As a result of the whole experience, Mrs Cake is now much more likely to have a sip of anything I proffer while I’m drinking at home. It’s nice to be able to share a little of my pleasure, but also a relief that she hasn’t gone full-blown malthead.

What did I buy and why?

On the drive up, Mrs Cake turned to me and said, ‘no arguments, I’m going to buy you two bottles of whisky.” Honestly; she tells me I drink too much, then she wants to buy me two new bottles. Talk about mixed messages!

I nearly choked. Two! Blimey! I don’t think she knew how expensive whisky was likely to be, but I discovered that, in her head, she had budgeted for £30 each, so a total of £60.

I told her she might struggle to get two, but that would be ok, because I had decided I’d allow myself to buy one, and resolved the issue of being skint by picking one for her to buy me, then if there were any budget left, I’d use it to top up a second purchase.

As things transpired, I actually came home with three bottles, and I’m about to tell you how that happened and what my choices were.

Being a fan of the heavily peated style, and having tried Ardbeg only once before, I had planned all along to get one of that variety. Not only is Ardbeg renowned as one of the best distilleries in the world, its output scores very highly in Jim Murray’s Whisky Bible – one particular variety achieving 97.5 out of 100. My brief tasting experience only deepened my intention, but being that it was the first distillery we visited, I didn’t want to blow any part of my load straight away, and instead decided I’d try a few more before returning to make my purchases the next day.

Unfortunately, Ardbeg isn’t open on Saturdays in the winter (best laid plans and all that), so I would have to distribute my buying power elsewhere. That was never going to be a problem on Islay though, was it? No frickin’ way.

Mrs Cake checked for me whether Ardbeg was open while we were at Bruichladdich. I had already decided I didn’t want to get a Lagavulin or Laphroaig this time though, so there was no need to find out whether they were. It meant I would have to rely on finding something I wanted at the last two distilleries on our tour – Bruichladdich and Caol Ila. I suppose there was always the option of going back to the Spar in Bowmore (called The Whisky Shop), which has the best selection of Scotch I’ve ever seen in any Spar anywhere. It’s got a better selection than most specialist off-licences. That seemed a bit wrong, though.

best... Spar... ever

 Bruichladdich had a wide variety of expressions that I found tempting, but many were outside of my realistic price range. I would have loved to have picked up a bottle of the super-peated Octomore, but at around £95 for the cheapest one, it would severely limit the possibility of future purchases. Correction; there would be no future purchases.

Then there was the special Four More Years, which was nice, but I wanted more than a 50cl bottle for fifty five quid. The Port Charlotte varieties also were tempting but oddly, by the time we’d gotten to the tasting at Bruichladdich, I was starting to tire of wall to wall peat flavours, and was looking for something a bit different.

I opted then, for one of the unpeated Islay Barley varieties. At £38 it seems a little expensive for a malt that has only been aged 5 years, but I did enjoy the sample, and as I say, it was different from any whisky I’d tried up to that point. It’s also a healthy 50% ABV, so that helped cement the decision in my mind.

There was another Islay Barley variety that I had to consider, but I hadn’t tried it and it wasn’t as strong. It probably was a little older, and it was £2 more expensive. It was the strength that made my decision in the end.

I have to say, I was tempted to get a bottle of The Botanist gin, but at £29 I figured it was money I’d rather spend on whisky.

I did make another purchase at Bruichladdich, and I had (and indeed to this point) have no idea what it is like, but they were selling a blend for £13. Symphony no 1, it’s called, and it is attributed to master blender, Jim McEwan. Another guy was already buying a bottle (apparently on recommendation from a staff member), so I figured for £13, you can’t really go wrong – especially when you find out that a bottle went for £25 on Scotch Whisky Auctions.com.

Mind you, if you thought that was surprising, check this out:

Perhaps I should have bought two.

Look at that picture, though! Is that the worst label you’ve ever seen or what? It’s like one of those budget compilation CDs you get for £1.99 in Tesco or Wilkinson. I’ll let you know how the content turns out when I try it.

So my last chance to buy from a distillery would be at Caol Ila. I was almost certain to find something special there, but while I would have loved to have picked up a bottle of the 12 year old, it seemed like a long way to go to get something I was already familiar with.

Luckily, as you’ve already read, the sampling at Caol Ila was exemplary, so it just came down to whether anything was in my price range. I went in the end for the Distillers Edition, which they were selling for £50.30. I would be getting £6 off because they give you a £3 discount with their tour (which for us was free), and I could use Mrs Cake’s discount.

I think there was some confusion because I bought a bottle for my friend too, and they were going to charge me £60 for the two bottles and for the two tastings that are supposed to be £15 each. Being borderline drunk and also an honest citizen, I informed them of the error, and they adjusted the charge. I found later though that instead of a £6 discount, they’d given me an £18 discount, so thanks good people at Caol Ila! Your Distillers Edition tastes that little bit sweeter because of you. And it does taste sweet. In fact, it’s delicious. It’s the only one of the three bottles I bought that I’ve opened so far, and it’s the holy grail for me – a scotch that insists I savour every drop, and want to go back for more. I could probably drink the whole bottle like cola. Beautifully balanced, delicate and sweet – just how I like my women… as I always say – probably too often. But that just makes it funnier… to me. I’ve forgotten what I was saying.

Conclusion

I suppose all that’s left is to throw all this together and give you some kind of conclusion to take away with you.

What would you like to know, do you think? Obviously, depending where you live, it could be further for you than it was for me to go, or it could be nearer. From Manchester it’s 9 hours each way – the return journey we did in one stint. I was pleased to be able to knock 15 minutes off the estimated arrival time that the satnav gave us, but I threw it all away at the last by missing an exit and having to drive in the wrong direction for seven and a half minutes.

Given how far it was, was it worth it? The answer to that is absolutely. It was a very fun and memorable excursion. It would have been quicker and cheaper to have had a weekend on mainland Europe, but that would be something different altogether. A good couple of hours before we reached our hotel on the way there, I turned to Mrs Cake and said, ‘If we’d gone to Barcelona, we’d have finished dinner by now’. And it would have been warm.

Barcelona though, isn’t the cradle of the Scotch whisky industry. If you like whisky and if you can make it, I’d definitely recommend that you go. It’s probably like that film Sideways, only better, and not just because whisky is better than wine. Yes it is.

I asked at the beginning, when it comes to whisky distilleries, how different can one be from another. Well, from the six I have now visited, I would have to say they aren’t much different from one another, and the tours are almost identical. You see the same things, learn the same things (admittedly lots), and while there are slight differences, I think you could get away with visiting one if you wanted to leave it there.

The surprising bit though, is that having been to a few, I’d now be much more inclined to visit more. It’s fun, they are friendly places to visit (if this random sample is anything to go by) and you get to sample some expressions that you might not be able to afford, or necessarily ever get around to buying.

I mean, you get some people who have been to all 92 football league grounds. That’s quite an achievement, so why should you not make it your goal to visit as many scotch whisky distilleries as you can? There are 96 according to Wikipedia, and it’s probably a lot easier if you live in Scotland, but I would definitely like to go to more. It’s better than seeing the ruins of some castle.

It’s an all round enjoyable experience. I was particularly surprised to find that despite the competition between distilleries for market share, the ones on Islay almost seem to work together. None of the ones we visited were disparaging about any of the others, and they all referred to each other in fond ways – no sneering or snarky comments. I suspect this is down to the importance of the scotch industry to Islay’s economy. It’s a small population, they have to rely on the industry to some extent – and they probably all know each other personally.

You hear some whisky enthusiasts for example, being disparaging about Caol Ila, but none of the distilleries led us to think there was anything to be disparaging about. Similarly you hear the Bruichladdich are unpopular because of their slightly unorthodox marketing methods, but again, they were friendly and appeared to fit in harmoniously with the other distilleries on the island.

So in conclusion: Islay – do it; distilleries – do it. Beautiful place, lovely people, awesome whisky. What (other than the likely distance – just forget about the distance!) is stopping you?

That’s it for this week then. I’ll be going to Nottingham tomorrow for a friend’s birthday. His present is a bottle of brandy. Hopefully I’ll get to try it. As for tonight, I thought I might do a taste test between two brands of gold rum, and maybe another between two kinds of brandy. No doubt the results of those will be showing up on this blog at some point, so please keep coming back.

Whatever you’re up to, have fun. See you next time.