Spirit Log: The Crown Royal Family

Having already covered the story of how these came into my possession, it is time now to give them both a thorough going over. Would it be a case of The Crown Jewels? Or er... Monarch Airlines?

I’m pleased to have a chance to try the regular Crown Royal again, as last time I had a bottle, I hadn’t started writing the blog yet, and my wealth of experience with whisky was probably more a pittance of experience. Even more pleasing is that this time I get to try it alongside the legendary Jim Murray’s 2016 World Whisky of the Year – the Northern Harvest Rye. Now, I’ve already tried this one (briefly) also, and it was pretty impressive, so let’s see how they compare, and how the new king stands up to more rigorous examination.

These are both very reasonably priced Canadian whiskies – particularly if you’re visiting Canada and are used to UK type prices. I didn’t buy them, but from memory, I think over in Canada you’d be looking at around $25 for the standard, and somewhere around $30-35 for the NHR. Over here, the standard will be around the same price in pounds, but the NHR could exceed £50.

The standard Crown Royal is 40% ABV, while the Northern Harvest has been beefed up to an enticing 45%. They are presented in quirky crown shaped bottles and sealed with screw caps.

We already know how highly Jim Murray rates the NHR, but now that the rest of the world has had chance to try it, what does everyone else think?

Reviews on The Whisky Exchange are overwhelmingly favourable – a lot of 5 star reviews there, a lot. There are a couple of nay sayers, one calling it “raunchy armpit juice” while others merely call out the hype. There’s talk of “great whisky… for the price” - which really strikes me as people getting carried away with the fact that they like it and it’s affordable.

Meanwhile, the internet’s journalists and bloggers keep their feet on the ground and one butt cheek firmly either side of the fence. Not the best whisky in the world, they say, but a worthy effort. It doesn’t take expertise and a lifetime of experience to say that.

I started with a head to head tasting, and was not immediately impressed. I was mostly recovered from a recent cold, so I was tempted to attribute any negative impressions to the tail end of that. The Northern Harvest Rye, nevertheless, was much fuller on the nose than the standard bottling.

When I’m struggling to get inside a bottle, I am frequently compelled to return to it often – leaving aside other bottles I’ve been delving into and concentrating on the newcomer. So it was here. I stopped feeling curious about the Talisker Skye, and instead kept pouring glasses of the two Crown Royals. I’m sorry to say this continued. I just wasn’t getting the results that I’d come to expect from the standard, or that I’d first experienced in Canada with the Northern Harvest Rye, so I ended up endlessly returning to them, hoping something would be revealed or a part of the puzzle would click into place.

While the NHR nicely followed a tea of fish and chips once, I was mostly getting mixed emotions. A pleasant sweet leather impression was tempered by the smell of poppers. And, I haven’t mentioned it yet, but menthol is pervasive throughout – note though, that this isn’t an impression I’ve read in any other review, anywhere. I hadn’t detected any of that whilst in Canada, but now, that’s almost all there is. That just seems to be the way that the wood is manifesting itself, and while it’s not exactly bad, I’m just not a fan of menthol and I don’t want it in my whisky – at least, not so prevalently. Where were the banana and nuts that I’d tasted? On top of all that, there’s a lot of burn. Normally I like a bit of burn, but this was not particularly pleasant.

Finally I did get a slight hint of banana, and it occurred to me that this was the other side of the minty coin. I’m no expert, but one day, just peaking out from under the menthol, was a hint of banana – but not enough to redeem the NHR in my eyes.

All this makes it hard to imagine what could inspire seasoned connoisseur like Jim Murray to name this World Whisky of the Year [all speculation about controversy and marketing aside] – it certainly isn’t mine. I’ve had some strong contenders this year already, and the Northern Harvest Rye isn’t even close. In fact, I found the less complicated, reliable but standard Crown Royal to be preferable on most occasions.

So, sorry Canada, you may have the accolade, but I don’t think you really have the best whisky in the world after all. At least not in my book.

Another Christmas in Canada

the crown jewels... apparently

 Big task ahead of me here; writing about my most recent [at the time of writing, at least] Christmas excursion to Canada. You can read about my earlier adventures here and here. This one will be tough though because there is no overarching theme, just an assortment of disparate elements. Hopefully I’ll figure out how to bring it all together over the next few thousand words…

So a bit of context. We headed over to Canada following the end of 2015’s Distinct Beers Challenge and the start of a new Winter, Christmas and Festively Themed Beers Challenge – I’ll be writing about that last one around Christmas time. I was relying on Canada to provide me with enough variety to triumph once more, and made sure to make a quick visit to a liquor store at my earliest opportunity.

Big Rock, big beers

One of the downsides of Canada is that you can’t pick up booze in a supermarket, so you have to deliberately go to liquor stores. The upside is that there are loads of liquor stores. Sure, they are of varying quality, but you get to learn which the best ones are.

First up was a store in southern Calgary’s Mackenzie Town. I think it was a Co-op, but I can’t say for sure. It wasn’t too well stocked with winter ales, but I did pick up a selection box of Big Rock bottles – Smoked Roggenbier, Hibernation Strong Ale, Fowl Mouth ESB and Dunkelweizen.

My brother-in-law and I would later visit the local Big Rock brewery to fill a couple of growlers and pick up some other bottles and cans. Sadly none of them were winter or Christmas themed, but they are quite brilliantly branded, as you can see from the photo. Their Traditional Ale is still my favourite of their many varieties, but it’s always worthwhile seeing what they’ve been brewing whenever I visit.

There is a wealth of beer available in Canada, with a number of bars having their own microbreweries – Original Joe’s and Brewster’s were two such that we visited during our stay. We may as well go for a direct comparison on this one. At Brewster’s I tried the Rig Pig Pale Ale (2/5), Hammerhead Red Ale (3/5) and Curly Horse IPA (3/5), while at Original Joe’s I had the Red Ale (3/5) and Haus Frau Euro Pilsner (3/5). Nothing to choose between them really then. I will say though, Brewster’s do what they call a flight which is a tray of 5 beers of your choice, amounting to somewhere over a pint for 8 dollars or something. Mrs Cake went for one of those, but I just wanted to give a few beers a proper try.

Now, my big hope for winterly themed ales was to be the Willow Park liquor store, which is well known to pretty much be the pick of the bunch. This place is huge and has beer fridges all down one wall and shelves opposite of a great many unchilled beers. Elsewhere there’s loads of wine and spirits.

In fact, on the day we went there was a tasting event on, where we were encouraged to try a few things. Well, you probably know me by now, and if you do, you’ll know I don’t like to try too much because I usually don’t buy something when I’ve tried it already. I like to find out what things taste like when I open the bottle – and then over the following few months. Notwithstanding, at a tasting event, you can’t taste things the way they really are after a while because one of the drinks you just had is still sitting on your palate. I always feel like the representatives are expecting you to go, “ooh, that’s lovely!”, but all I can muster is a non-plussed, “yeh, it’s alright, that. Thanks”.

One of the things we tried was brandy infused with lemon, and I have to admit, I don’t really get the point of it. If you want your brandy to taste a bit lemony, you can just squeeze some lemon juice into itI don’t even know how they decided what would be the optimum amount of lemon to use. If it isn’t lemony enough for you, you can put some more in, but if it’s too lemony, they’ve lost your custom. Yeah, sorry, I just don’t understand this one. Clearly it isn’t for me.

Vidal Ice Wine: "Naked"

I don’t really remember trying much else – except some ice wine which both Mrs Cake and I liked, and bought because it was a few dollars off, though I noticed later that it only clocks up 9 ABVs.

As I said, I was really there to seek out winter ales, and I managed to find a few. The assistant told me about one that was $50, but there was no way I was ever considering that one – as I told him, I’d never drink $50 in 30 minutes to an hour, and I could buy a nice bottle of spirits for that.

A good thing about beers over in Canada is that many of them come in oversized bottles, which I found over the duration of my stay to be very conducive of drinking quickly – before it warms up too much. It’s nice feeling like you’re able to chug your beer a bit more.

I did ask, while I was there, whether they had any Canadian pomace brandy. Being a lover of grappa, I wanted to find out what the Canadians had to offer, and figured if one place was going to have any (having looked elsewhere and asked before), this was going to be it. The assistant wandered off for a few minutes, and on his return said they didn’t stock any because it’s more expensive than grappa, and not as good. He couldn’t offer any opinion on why it should be more expensive, when grappa would have to be shipped over from Italy, but there you go.

The last thing on this first visit was to pick up a bottle of spirits for consumption during our stay. As ever, I didn’t want to go for anything fancy because I didn’t want to feel guilty about drinking it too casually, so I kept my focus on Canadian whiskies, and tried to find something inexpensive. J.P. Wiser’s Deluxe rye whisky fit the bill.

It is 40% ABV, and was $20CAD for 75cl. It is presented in a square type bottle like Johnnie Walker or Bushmills, with about as ordinary a label as you could expect. At $20, it was great value – at the time the exchange rate was around $2CAD to the pound, so everything just seemed incredibly cheap, and this one now has the honour of being the cheapest whisky I’ve ever bought – cheaper by volume even than the Cutty Sark I got in Spain. Nevertheless, Wiser’s is a decent enough whisky. Sadly, it was a while ago now, and I don’t have any tasting notes, but I would place it above other Canadian whiskies like Seagram’s 83 and Alberta Springs 10. Probably not above the Crown Royal though.

JP Wiser's Deluxe... I hadn't figured out how to focus my phone properly yet

Speaking of Crown Royal, we arrived in Canada to find quite a buzz surrounding one of their expressions. It seems their Northern Harvest Rye had been named World Whisky of the Year 2016 by none other than the renowned Jim Murray. This was the first time the accolade had been awarded to a Canadian whisky, and everyone was talking about it.

Of all the people I spoke to, I was the only one familiar with Jim Murray’s Whisky Bible and his particular evaluation methods, but you couldn’t deny the excitement. There was talk of the price increasing from 35 to more than 80 dollars. People were trying all their local liquor stores without success after the news caused a buying frenzy. As you can imagine, everyone wanted to find out what the world’s best whisky tasted like because, for once they could afford it, and might even be able to take a little bit of pride in drinking it. It’s not often you get to own the pinnacle of what the whisky world has to offer.

I’m pleased to be able to announce that my brother-in-law managed to get hold of a bottle for me, for Christmas. I got a bottle of the regular Crown Royal too, and was initially disappointed to see him unwrapping a Northern Harvest Rye, but a few minutes later I unwrapped one of my own.

Mine remains sealed at this point, but my brother-in-law opened his and was good enough to offer me a glass. I can reveal now, in advance of a full appraisal, that it is definitely impressive stuff. I detected a nice banana impression on entry, soon developing into a sweet nuttiness. Such clear distinction of flavours, complementing each other must be the nearest I’ve ever come to experiencing what Murray means by “balance”. More to come on this in the coming months, no doubt.

Haig Pinch

A whisky I probably won’t be able to write more about in the coming months is one that my brother-in-law (who we will now start calling Brian) had been given by some family friends. I think it was one of those things where they were moving house, and came across an old bottle they didn’t need. Brian had already opened it and tried it. It was this: Haig 12 year old Pinch.

I’d never heard of it, but looked it up on Master of Malt, and found it would have been worth around £80 unopened. That price has since gone up to £96 but, you know, it’s better to try it – especially when it’s as good as this turned out to be. I thought it was superb; light and beautiful, sweet and warming, full-bodied with a fresh nose.

I’ll definitely try some more of their stuff in future. The Dimple 15 year old looks to be available for a [potentially] bargainous £35 on Master of Malt (assuming it’s anywhere near as good as the Pinch), then there’s a budget Gold Label at £20 on The Whisky Exchange.

Eeeee… what else did we have? This one is the Alberta Premium – it probably goes without saying that I did finish the Wiser’s with time to spare – and it is apparently one of the few remaining 100% rye grain whiskies produced in North America (says Wikipedia). I bought it because I only wanted a half bottle, and decided the get the cheapest one at the store I happened to be in at the time. This was $14.60CAN, which works out to around £7 (for 375ml). There were occasions when I enjoyed it, and others when I felt it was cheap and bitter.

Perhaps one to look out for in the next few years is the Eau Claire distillery. Located in Turner Valley, they are causing something of a stir by doing everything the old-fashioned way, using locally sourced ingredients and traditional methods – including using horses instead of machinery.

We were supposed to be giving the distillery a proper visit, but what with one thing and another, we didn’t really have enough time for anything other than popping our heads in. They produce vodka, gin and whisky (though at the time, the whisky wasn’t yet ready), packaged in stylish Bruichladdich-style bottles. I have tried the gin, and despite not being gin’s biggest fan, I thought it was good. They have a reputation for being a bit expensive, which they probably are by Canadian standards, but the equivalent of £20 for decent spirit isn’t such a big deal when you’re used to UK pricing.

I didn’t buy anything because I’d already seen Wild Turkey’s Kentucky Spirit back at the Willow Park liquor store for $63CAD. That was just over £30, whereas you’d be paying £70 plus P&P at The Whisky Exchange. I was saving my meagre travel allowance for that. I’ll be writing more about that next week, but I will just say; I have already opened it, and I have seen that it is good.

So coming back with me from the Great White North this year were the Wild Turkey Kentucky Spirit, standard Crown Royal, Crown Royal Northern Harvest Rye, and a gift box of 20cl Glenfiddich bottles, incorporating the 12 year old, the 12 year old Solera Vat, and the 18 year old. That should mean some happy drinking for a few months – and a few more posts for you to enjoy. Keep on joining me and I’ll keep on drinking and telling you about it.

one for the future

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.

Another Christmas in the Canada

So the missus and I have been on our travels again. Yeh, this time it was back to Canada for Christmas with the in-laws. I won’t be doing a play-by-play (at least that’s not the intention), but we do have a lot to get through, so let’s knuckle down, shall we?

Canada, home of the moose. Where, judging by the clothes, people are an unusual shape – I was once given a Canadian hoody as a gift (that said “Salty” on the front in big letters) which had extra-long arms and hand holes that were too small for my hands, but then bloused over the biceps. The head hole was similarly too tight, but there was definite blousing over the chest. It all suggested this particular cut was for an effete superhero, someone big of chest and bicep, but small of head and hands – Captain Salty, presumably. That’s not to mention all the shirts my brother-in-law gets for me that are – get this – slim fit, and of the correct neck measurement, but for some reason are MASSIVE. MASSIVE! And I’m 6 foot 3.

I tried to wear one of the shirts to work recently, with just a jumper. Looking in the mirror, I turned to Mrs Cake and asked, “is the collar on this shirt humourously large?”  I looked like John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever, only with shit hair, stubble and dark circles under my eyes.

Anyway! I was very much looking forward to going back to Calgary, and to getting away from work for an extended period. Sure, I knew there were going to be awkward moments, even dull ones, but that would be offset by the fun times and by the alcohol. Yes. It was a chance to delve a little deeper into the world of Canadian whisky. I had planned to delve a little into American bourbon too, but that didn’t happen. So, Canadian whisky.

Too much just isn’t an option this time

Better too much than not enough, I am known to say. I even abbreviate it to BTMTNE. Repeat that to yourself a few times, get used to it. It takes a bit of practice.

Sadly, there is such a thing as too much when you’re talking about just the right amount of booze booze to drink for the duration of your holiday. You don’t want to be leaving some behind, or trying to stretch your meagre weight/space allowance to covering half empty (I mean, half full) bottles you weren’t able to finish. Or just chugging it down to get it out of the way… unless you’re a Neanderthal. You’re not a Neanderthal, are you? No, this blog is about enjoying alcohol in a relaxed, sophisticated way (most of the time. Sometimes. Well, it’s supposed to be…)

So, two and a half weeks. That would be spent at various people’s houses, in various places, beer would tend to be available… one bottle of whisky should suffice, right? One?

Mrs Cake and I took a stroll through the snow to the Liquor Depot in Woodbine, Calgary that same day we arrived. We had a few hours to kill before we could permit ourselves to go to bed (in an attempt to defeat jetlag), and a small mission was just the job.

The moustachioed assistant was very enthusiastic in recommending Lot 40, a single pot still rye that he said was good enough to fool the casual scotch drinker (we’ll see about that), but at 50 dollars it wasn’t in my plans just yet. I wanted something cheap, since I was going to be drinking it all in a short space of time – relative to how quickly I normally drink my spirits, which is around 3 months, but then I always have several bottles on the go at once…

 

My choice was Alberta Springs 10 (40% ABV), which I’d read some good things about in my pre-trip research. It was something around 25 Canadian dollars for 75cl, and I worked it out at the time to be equivalent to £16.19, so that’s pretty cheap. Sometime later I found that I could have gotten it even cheaper from another liquor store, but the Liquor Depot was the only one available to me at that time. And it doesn’t seem to matter as much when you’re dealing in currencies that aren’t as valuable as your own.

To my immense surprise, it didn’t take me very long to drink this at all. Seriously, I really thought it might last the whole holiday. I didn’t even open it on the first night, opting instead to polish off a few beers that had been in the mother-in-law’s fridge since my last visit two years ago, and then try the Finlandia vodka that was part of the welcoming committee she pulled out of the cupboard and instructed me to help dispose of.

Nevertheless it lasted about a week. The killer was the third evening at Mrs Cake’s dad’s where I brought it out on our return from an ice hockey match. He usually brings the booze out, but I don’t like to take liberties, so rather than wait I just put the Alberta Springs on the table and Mrs Cake and her dad both joined me in indulging and then refilling. He even liked it, which surprised me a little as he only seems to like Glenmorangie – and he always drinks it with ice.

On our arrival, two days previously he had brought out all the bottles he wanted me to help him dispose of – you see, people seem to keep bringing him peaty stuff, and he doesn’t like it. I got to finish off bottles of Bruichladdich Peat and Highland Park 12 – as well as try a sampler bottle of Glenmorangie Nectar D’Or, which he had a few of (it seems you got them free with the Original over there).

I was pleased to be able to finish the Highland Park, but you may remember from a pre-Christmas post (though that was an extraordinarily long time ago now) that I had advised Mrs Cake to buy him a bottle of that for Christmas. Fail. We ended up going to the liquor store later (before the planned Christmas with her father – Christmas is complicated with broken families) and getting his favourite, while I would be taking the Highland Park we had bought back home with me – every cloud, indeed.

As for the Bruichladdich; well, I like Bruichladdich, but I wasn’t all that impressed with this expression. Shame. It’s possible it had been sitting in his booze cupboard (already open) for a couple of years.

With Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with the brother-in-law (Brian) and family approaching, and then a couple of nights in the mountains, I knew I was going to get a chance to try another cheap brand. We went to the budget Liquor Superstore where there was a brand at nearly 45% ABV for only 18 dollars. Well, you know me; I was tempted because I like to try the cheap shit – especially if it is particularly strong (which it never is), but instead I went for the Canadian ’83, which I’ve seen attributed to Seagram’s, though nowhere is that name mentioned on the label – or indeed anywhere on the funky, dimpled bottle. It is a standard 40% ABV, and this time the 75cl cost around 20 Canadian dollars, which I worked out to be £12.38.

It stood by my side as Brian and I constructed a Barbie dream house for two hours on Christmas Eve. It fuelled me through the obligatory all-day Christmas session, where at the end, I still felt sober enough to drive (though I didn’t drive, incidentally). It accompanied us to Canmore, where we were based for my first ever skiing trip, and lasted all the way to New Year’s Eve - our last night, that we spent with friends playing Cards Against Humanity. 

I suppose you must be wondering what the verdict is on these two products. Were they any good? Which is best? Well, first let me apologise for failing to get any tasting notes down – I didn’t manage to get anything specific, but I can tell you, for the minimal outlay, they are very good. Of the two, I did prefer the Alberta Springs. It elicited the most consistent response from my tastebuds with its reliably sweet complexity.

By contrast I’m not sure what was going on with the ’83. On some occasions it was flat and uninteresting, while on others a pleasant sweetness emerged that I could enjoy almost as much as its predecessor.

Even so, the Alberta Springs wasn’t able to break into my top 3 of Canadian whiskies (in ranking order; Crown Royal Black, Crown Royal, Windsor Canadian), all of which are encouragingly affordable, though Crown Royal Black pushes the envelope slightly. I was able to bring a couple of Canadian whiskies back with me, as we’ll see in the next section, so maybe one of those will.

That’s all from me for this week. I’m off to Spain this weekend to hopefully replenish my stocks of brandy, orujo and absinthe, as well as pick up a Duty Free only Highland Park… and spend time with my family, of course! So I might be back posting next weekend, when we’ll look at Part 2…

Book review; Ian Buxton's 101 Whiskies To Try Before You Die

got, got, got, got, NEED! Got, got, NEED! NEED!

Time for something a bit different on Drink It How You Like it this week – it’s my first book review – not ever - you know, I had to do one for my degree once, and I may have wasted some hours at work in the past posting reviews on Amazon, but it’s certainly the first booze related one, and the first on this blog. Mrs Cake actually bought me the book that is the subject of this review over a year ago now, so I’ve had plenty of chance to become acquainted with it, and now here’s the review.

Ian Buxton’s 101 Whiskies to Try Before You Die tries to be an unpretentious reference book for the new whisky enthusiast. Why there are 101 instead of 100, I don’t know.

 “What’s so special about 100?” you might ask.

To which I might retort, “Why not stop at 99? Or go up to 114?”

“You’re just being silly”, you would conclude.

Well, we live in a decimal world, and in that world 100 is logical while 101 doesn’t make any more sense than 99 or 114.  Such is the way of things: there are 101 whiskies in this book, and they are filed alphabetically, without prejudice – though The Glenlivet is filed under ‘T’ instead of ‘G’…which is surely wrong. Virgin Megastore used to file its artists in that way, too. Look where they are now. Mind you, HMV have gone same way, and they tended to alphabetise correctly. I think that’s more to do with changes in electronic media than filing systems, though. There’s a Business Studies PhD thesis for you; The effects of alphabetisation on solvency in modern media retail. You can have that one.

What’s the big deal about doing things before you die anyway? Obviously you can’t do much after you die, but the simple fact of death suggests it doesn’t really matter what you do beforehand, while these lists suggest you haven’t lived unless you’ve ticked all the boxes. I suppose that depends on your religious standpoint. Most religions suppose it is important to do good things while you’re alive. That probably doesn’t include making sure you’ve tried 101 interesting whiskies. Should the cliché of rocking up at the Pearly Gates be true, I hardly think St Peter is going to say, “Oh! What did you think of Glenfiddich 30 year old?”

“What? I er… didn’t get to that one”.

“I see. Just how many of the 101 whiskies did you try?”

“Eight. I didn’t realise there was going to be a test…”

On the surface 101 Whiskies to Try Before You Die looks like one man’s opportunity to flaunt his familiarity with his subject, and the opportunities he’s had to try far more (and far more great) whiskies than you (or at least I) have. It’s a little sickening when he says things like, “I’ve decided not to include any bottles that cost more than £1000” , simultaneously endearing himself to the part of you that knows you’re never going to try anything that expensive while making sure you know that he has.

However, not all great whisky is a rich man’s game, he points out (especially if you compare it to ‘great’ wine – does such a thing exist?), but some of it is, and some of us are destined to miss out – but only a little. Aware that some people might bristle at being made aware of their shortcomings in life, he points out that two thirds of the whiskies in the book can be bought for £70 or less, and that to buy all 101 would cost around £7100 – less if you got them all at once and negotiated a discount. If you take the three most expensive ones out of the equation, it adds up to an average of £56 per bottle, while some are available for as little as £18.

£7100 doesn’t seem that much does it, for a one time payout? For 101 bottles of whisky? You wouldn’t be able to buy anymore bottles for a good long time though (or indeed, anything else), would you? Your wife would be all, “you’re not buying another bottle are you? There’s still 96 bottles in the kitchen, unopened! And when are we going to be able to go on that holiday? I can’t believe you spent 8 grand on whisky!”

“It was 7 grand!”

“Yeah, well we still haven’t got a dishwasher…”

101 whiskies; it would take me about 8 years to drink all those. That would be quite disappointing. I wonder how much money I’ll spend on whisky over the next 8 years..? I’ll start counting, but I’ll tell you now: it won’t be just under a grand a year.

Buying a new bottle is probably the most exciting part, so buying 101 in one go would be really exciting, but the excitement would all be over really quickly, and I’d probably lose interest before I opened the 20^th bottle. I’m just like that. I’d want to keep buying more bottles, and I’d amass more bottles than I could drink in a decade, so I’d start trying to drink them faster, and then I probably just wouldn’t want them anymore.

All gripes concerning financial obstacles and whisky snobbery aside, this book is proving useful and interesting. Let’s assume I came into a small sum of money, and thought to myself, “I’m going to buy an expensive bottle of whisky with that”, where would I even start? If you walk into a specialist off licence it’s easy to get overwhelmed by all those attractive bottles – it’s generally much easier to only have the option of the one or two you can afford or the ones with the greatest discount. Well, if you have this book, it will give you a useful starting point that indecisive people like me might need. Buxton makes a number of them sound interesting enough to part with your money for, and he has been thoughtful enough as to include a price guide so that you can see how far your little windfall should get you. The only trouble you’ve got now is making your shortlist – and finding some spare cash. And then making sure you don’t get carried away and spend all your money on whisky.

Naturally, you will find some of the selections controversial – he chooses the Laphroiag Quarter Cask ahead of the 10 year old (and indeed, all of the other ‘expressions’), and doesn’t mention Ledaig at all – but this isn’t, as Buxton is at pains to express, intended to be a definitive list. It is intended to be a list of whiskies that, love them or hate them, will help complete your whisky education – which frankly makes the fact that he excluded the Laphroaig 10 year old even more preposterous. Mind you, if you’re going to go that far, I hardly think you could call your whisky education complete if you hadn’t tried Bell’s or Jack Daniels, but it would be a waste to include them here. I think you have to make the assumption that everyone will have tried those already, before getting to this stage.

He does include some of my favourites (Caol Ila 12 year old - though his attempt at spelling the pronunciation is wrong - and Crown Royal are represented), which is heartening, and the rest are culled from all over the world and come in all styles. Naturally, single malt scotch is here in abundance, but you also have some blends, a good number of bourbons, some Japanese malts, some from India – there’s even a grain whisky… essentially the emphasis is on interesting, and in that regard he delivers. I’m not so interested in their histories, or in visiting their distilleries as Buxton seems to suggest you do for nearly every one – how different can they be? - but I do have a lot of questions about whisky, so maybe I will visit one, one of these days…

 You don’t need to let this book guide you entirely, but this is a lively and interesting reference text that is easy to dip into (repeatedly) and contains enough information and suggestions to pique your curiosity without making you feel like a novice or a simpleton.

The problem is that once you have this book, it is easy to allow yourself to be influenced by it too much. I don’t feel I’m buying a special whisky these days unless it’s in the book, and to be fair, a number of the ones I’ve tried on its recommendation so far haven’t really cut the mustard. Case in point: Black Grouse. Severely disappointed. In fact, it appears that it is only the blends that are affordable, while nothing single malt comes in at any reasonable price – except Tallisker and Caol Ila. Mind you, that’s not Buxton’s fault (if you allow him the Laphroaig oversight).

On top of that, there is a chance that it will encourage you to buy more whisky than you should more frequently than you should for more money than you should, but… so? Are you interested in drinking whisky or aren’t you?

Given that I had come to accept this book as an authority over the last year, and that I haven’t been overly impressed with its recommendations so far, I have been left wondering where to turn the next time I want to buy a special whisky. Will I just keep buying all the different expressions of Caol Ila, or will I go for something completely random? Well, I don’t know the answer to that right now, but one or two avenues are opening up to me, and I’m fairly certain it’s going to be a lot of fun finding out.

Since writing that review, Mrs Cake has surprised me by planning a trip to Islay for my birthday, so it looks like I will be visiting a couple of distilleries after all. Keep coming back to find out just how different they are – I’m sure I’ll be telling you all about it at some point.

Now, it occurred to me, after writing the bulk of that review that some consideration ought to be given to the overall purpose of 101 lists. In regard to the whiskies, these aren’t supposed to be the best, as stated earlier, but they are supposed to be somewhat special. Nevertheless, any list of 101 of anything is merely one person’s opinion, and the intention will depend on who that person is – and perhaps who he thinks he is.

So I did a brief search of the internet for a couple of other 101 lists that I might have an opinion of. First, I found this 101 movies to watch before you die list from IMDB. It’s a pretty diverse list, but clearly there are some contentious films on there – Rain Man at number 5 and only three films from before 1970?!? [the 70s were probably the best decade for films, mind].

No intent is specified, but you would think that with something like films, and the fact that you need to see these before you die, it implies that they are particularly important films – for whatever reason. ‘Ang on; Chocolat at number 8?!? Oh wait, the list was made by a girl, so I’m impressed that A Clockwork Orange scored so highly, but not so much that there are three Brad Pitt films (and one with him in), three Johnny Depp films and eight Leonardo DiCaprio films. Eight?!? That means Leonardo DiCaprio is in nearly 1 in 10 of the greatest ever 101 films ever made, if this list is to be believed! I’d like to see if that is a greater proportion than any other actor, but sadly I don’t have time.

This is actually a pretty good list; it has recognised that there are some films that are just givens, like The Godfather, Gone With the Wind etc, that whether or not you personally like them, if you don’t include them you are just proving that you don’t really know anything about films (though ironically, neither of those would appear on my list). Once you’ve included those, that leaves a few spaces that you can fill with your personal favourites – in this case, films like What’s Eating Gilbert Grape? and Ghost.

In case you’re interested, my list would definitely include Anchorman, Zoolander, This is Spinal Tap, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas and Dazed and Confused. None of those are from before 1970, but that’s only 5 out of a possible 101.

Another list I found lies at the other end of the spectrum; 101 places to have sex before you die. Presumably this list has more flippant intentions, because there’s a very real possibility that anyone who is really interested in films could watch 101 of them, or that someone with a bit of money and an interest in whisky could try 101 of those. When it comes to having sex in places though, what’s the likelihood of you (yes, you) having sex in any of these places: confessional booth, zoo, marriage counsellor’s office, ski lift, house under construction, house of mirrors, safari, the grotto at the Playboy mansion, pilates studio, museum, motorcycle, hot air balloon, rollercoaster, horse drawn carriage in Central Park, box at the opera and carousel? “On camera” isn’t even a place, and ‘in a car‘ isnt’ on the list – presumably that one’s too obvious… which only makes it’s absence more conspicuous – especially when the kitchen floor and washing machine are included.

I bet the author of the list hasn’t done all of these, and that I think should be a prerequisite. How can you provide a definitive list of anything without personal experience? Sure, most are possible, but to achieve a good number of them requires a willing partner who either wants to complete the list with you, or is ready to go at the drop of a hat.

For the record, I think I’ve managed 14 [wait, treehouse – 15], but frankly, some of these I don’t even want to cross off – a greenhouse? I mean, I would, but I wouldn’t be going out of my way. What’s interesting about that anyway? Unless you start using vegetables…

I am assuming that in this instance ‘sex’ means with another person, because it’s much easier and less impressive if you can do it on your own. I mean, I’d still be impressed, but less… envious if you managed a good number of these. There’s nothing particularly cool about having a wank in a playground, is there? You’ll probably end up in jail and on a register. Wanking anywhere is frowned upon, really. Sure, it’s completely natural and everyone does it (except me), but imagine doing it in all the places on the list, and then wanting to tell everyone about it, because frankly, if you did have a wank in most of those places, there would be something wrong with you – at the office Christmas party? Perverted. In front of a fire? Weirdo.  Look, you’re just a sex fiend ok, and you should be locked away. You probably will be, and even if you’re not there’s probably a video of you wanking on Youtube (maybe that should be Youporn).

So what have we learned from all this? I suppose in the main, 101 lists are either a flippant waste of time or a badge for demonstrating expertise. I think the items they contain should represent important things really, since selecting 101 out of a whole category of thing suggests anything in it has achieved greatness or essentiality. I suppose it also helps if you explain what your intention is in making such a list, but your duty nonetheless should be to give a nod to general consensus, then try and add your own stamp.

To get back to Ian Buxton’s 101 Whiskies to Try Before You Die, he provides his intention, and then he sticks to his brief and delivers – interesting and diverse whiskies. I don’t think I’m quite experienced enough in whisky just yet to determine just how much he has stuck with consensus and how much he has veered towards his own preferences, but that seems unimportant when there’s a list of 101 places to have sex. I’m just finding it endlessly amusing to imagine someone ticking all those places off on their own… hehe, on your boss’s desk… you reprobate.

Well, that’s it from me for another week. Mrs Cake has gone to see friends in Brighton this weekend, so I’m fending off loneliness with another poker night, where I’m sure a shit-ton of hardcore booze will be consumed. This time I’ll be trying to remember to re-hydrate though – I don’t want a repeat of last Sunday’s hangover…

All that remains then, is to wish you a fun-filled weekend. I’ll hope to see you back here next week, when I’ll be banging on about something else. Cheers!

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.

Quick post: First impressions of Gibson's 12 Year Old

As usual, my interest in something (call it ‘obsession’ if you like) has led me to taking it too seriously, and has threatened to take all the fun that led to the interest in the first place… away.

Almost immediately after starting to write this blog I found myself – almost subconsciously – trying to analyse whatever I was drinking, rather than just enjoying it, as I used to a couple of days before. Goddammit! That wasn’t the point.

Anyway. I decided to crack open the Gibson’s 12 year old Canadian rye last night. And I decided to try it with ice. So far, it seems Canadian whiskies are best enjoyed with ice – though I did develop  a taste for the Crown Royal Black (which I drank a whole bottle of with only a little help) while in Canada over Christmas and New Year - with and without ice. Time will tell how the Gibson’s fares, though first impressions are that the flavour isn’t very strong. There’s a chance that this impression was down to the fact that my freezer door had been left partially open, and the ice was already beginning to melt, so perhaps they watered my drink down on entry. 

Nevertheless, in my experience it takes nearly a full bottle to make a judgement, so first impressions is what you get for now. Hopefully I’ll be able to make comparisons between the entry level Crown Royal, the slightly fancier Crown Royal Black and this Gibson’s 12 year old later on.

I actually neglected to take a fresh picture of it, but you can see it in the family booze porn (that sounds so wrong) from previous posts.

Booze: the more you drink it, the better it tastes - but why is liquor so fascinating?

Here you go; I was thinking for a while. What would be the best subject for my first actual post? I’ve found the answer: why is alcohol so fascinating? You know; why isn’t tasting all the different varieties of cola as stimulating as trying the different varieties of whisky? I like cola, but I LOVE whisky. It can’t all be down to the alcohol, can it? 

I don’t believe I’ve ever tried alcohol-free beer; I don’t see the point. But why? I once remarked to a co-worker who said he didn’t drink beer because he didn’t like the taste when I was 21 or 22 that ‘if you don’t like beer, you haven’t drunk enough of it’. And that’s true. Because you don’t like it at first. Do you? 

So what is it? Is it the alcohol content? With beer, yes; the buzz is important, I think. But what about whisky? Vodka? Rum? Brandy? I really like the flavour of those drinks – the subtle differences. Sure! I like the buzz as well, but I feel like I like the flavour so much that I’d maybe drink them if they were alcohol free!

But would I? I’d probably not get into them if there was no alcohol. Has anyone ever made an alcohol free whisky? I guess it wouldn’t be the same, would it? I read recently though, that alcohol is flavourless, so couldn’t you make a drink as subtly flavoured as a fine whisky without it being alcoholic?

Ok, well I’ve decided that the point of this blog isn’t to answer all these questions, but maybe just to make you think about them. So I’m not going to trawl the internet finding out whether alcohol is particularly prone to absorbing flavour from oak barrels, or… just whatever. I’m sure there are loads of possible factors. I suspect that part of the fascination with alcohol is chemical – our brains like the sensation, and encourage us to indulge, perhaps by convincing us that it tastes nice.

Anyway, I did do a quick internet search for alcohol free whisky, and this is what I came up with:

http://whiskey-store.co.uk/index.php?type=page&pageid=2&mid=3

Perhaps I’ll try it… um, one day…

Look at this, though: “Black ZERO non alcohol whisky tastes and looks exactly like traditional Scotch Whisky.” What does that mean? Scotch whiskies all taste different!

No reviews (at time of writing):

http://whiskey-store.co.uk/eshop/products.php?reviews&whiskey&osCsid=77203780892baf6c5ed2187a96e48112

Hmm… it turns out alcohol free whisky raises other issues [that I don’t want to get into]:

http://www.thedrinksbusiness.com/2011/11/row-over-alcohol-free-whisky-deepens/

Anyway. It's time for a picture - let's call it "Booze Porn". Here's the whiskies I have to choose from at the moment.

 Left to right you've got the standard Crown Royal (Canadian rye), Aldi's finest blended 8 yr old Highland Black (a personal budget favourite - I'll probably write more about this at some point), Gibson's 12 yr old (another Canadian whiskey), the Aberlour 10 yr old single malt, and a small bottle of Bruichladdich Rocks which, depending who you listen to, is supposed to be drunk with ice. Or isn't - I don't know; I haven't opened it yet.

The Whisky Exchange is an invaluable resource for a boozehound, so here are some links:

http://www.thewhiskyexchange.com/P-1380.aspx

http://www.thewhiskyexchange.com/P-140.aspx

http://www.thewhiskyexchange.com/P-11265.aspx