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 One

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

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

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

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

Journey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

satnav does not show the boat

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

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

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

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

Day One

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Have a good one, and see you later!

Home tasting like a boss

One Friday night in the not so distant past, I thought it might be nice to conduct a tasting of all the whiskies I then had available, and now it’s time to give you an overview of the method and results.

get stuck in

As you can imagine, the main outcome was that it was a lot of fun. The five whiskies that you can see in the picture there were comprised of one blended scotch (Dewar’s 12 year old, double aged, 40% ABV), one Irish single pot still (Green Spot, 40% ABV), one Speyside single malt (Balvenie 12 year old, double wood, 40% ABV), one Orkney single malt (Gordon and MacPhail’s bottling of Scapa, distilled 2001, 43% ABV) and one Islay single malt (Caol Ila 18 year old, 43% ABV).

Due to a number of consecutive breakages I only had one of the glasses left that I have taken to drinking whisky out of, so I had to adapt my practices for this experiment, and got out five of these almost spherical rocks glasses. I know they’re not ideal, but they’re not that bad at holding aromas. The main problem is that they are slightly too large to hold comfortably, and slightly too heavy.

I poured [slightly more than] a little dribble of a different whisky into each glass and carried them through to the living room, where Mrs Cake immediately voiced her displeasure at seeing so much whisky queuing up for tasting in one go – as if this is something I do all the time. No; this was the first time – and it was the weekend. It doesn’t mean I won’t do it again when I have 5 other different whiskies to taste, but actually, the last time I did anything even slightly like this was probably around a year ago when I had 3 bottles of vodka in all at the same time. So cool yer boots, missy!

To be fair, she kind of had a point; it did turn out that there was far more whisky there than I had anticipated. There’s got to be enough to get a good taste though, hasn’t there?

The first thing I learned – and probably the most useful thing – was that in terms of analysis, I believe I got more value by tasting multiple whiskies at once in whatever order I fancied, than I usually get by just drinking one after the other, one at a time. I found that the differences in nose and on the palate helped me to ascertain and analyse what those differences were – because each whisky gives some kind of reference point by which to judge the others. I haven’t seen any whisky experts explicitly recommend this method before, so maybe it’s not the done thing, but as your attorney, I recommend you try this next time you have a chance. If you just drink one after the other, you can only compare each to the last, but if you mix and match, you can build up a complex comparative picture – this one is peatier than that one, but not than that one, this one is fruitier, this is oilier etc, etc…

So; down to the nitty-gritty then.

Being aware that generally you should taste Islay malts last as they have more [let’s say] aggressive flavours that can linger on the palate and affect your judgement of succeeding whiskies, I decided to let the Caol Ila sit it out, untouched at the end of the queue until all the other glasses had been drained – as a kind of treat to round off the experiment. Would it be a case of save the best till last?

I didn’t add water to any of these, since I figured at 40 and 43%, none were really strong enough to warrant watering down. Certain whiskies supposedly develop with water, but not only have I never had that particular experience myself (I can always taste the water - except when drinking cask strength bottlings), it would also have made the comparison harder to conduct in just this one sitting.

Interesting things I noticed

The most interesting thing, other than my tasting experience being enhanced by tasting numerous whiskies at once, was that for the first time ever I was able to pick out different component aromas and flavours from some of the samples. Not that many, to be brutally honest, but some, and some is an improvement on none, and demonstrates a development in my tasting faculties.

In the Balvenie for example, I noticed a very hoppy aroma – like when you walk past a pub first thing on a Sunday morning. In contrast, Green Spot, was very fruity in the nose. Balvenie, as I said in my recent On the Nice List post, really reveals its complexities and shows its worth when compared alongside other whiskies – as, it turns out, does Green Spot. So again, both did quite well here. I’ve yet to derive much enjoyment from this expression of Balvenie on its own (unlike Green Spot), but perhaps that will come with time (bear with me and watch this space…)

 

I provisionally ranked the contestants for fragrance – just out of interest really – but unfortunately I made my notes on an old envelope that has since been lost. All I remember is that surprisingly the Scapa came out as least fragrant and the Caol Ila as most but, you know, Caol Ila literally jumps out of the glass - and then tries to smother you (in a good way, of course, like a lovely bosom let’s say).

On the palate, as real whisky aficionados say, all the whiskies performed well. I didn’t think it would be fair to say this blend is inferior to that single malt when the samples were drawn from a number of different ages, regions and styles, so I decided early on that there would be no overall winners and losers. If you’re satisfied with them all, let’s leave it at that.

I would like to say though, that the Dewar’s measured up nicely alongside some renowned and some expensive whiskies. It was probably the least complex and classy of those on offer… but it was the only blend, and the cheapest (though not particularly cheap for a blend). If the test had comprised more blends at or below the Dewar’s end of the price spectrum, I have a feeling it might have fared very well – though I suppose that remains to be seen, and would depend on which other blends they were!

If there was any disappointment at all, it was that Scapa didn’t distinguish itself as much as I thought it might. I consider it to be a well balanced whisky, but it paled in comparison to the others – no unpleasant flavours, but no outstanding pleasant ones either.

Similarly, Caol Ila’s 18 year old – while still an enjoyable malt – didn’t go on to outperform the others as I had expected (and secretly hoped) it would. At this stage it is looking like the 12 year old expression is superior, and far superior value at half the price of its older, sweeter tasting brother.

To be fair, most of these bottles still have a long way to go I’m sure, before they have finished revealing their mysteries to me. As ever, I’ll let you know if I have any other particularly interesting impressions as I go along. The tasting proved to be a fun way to spend a Friday night at home, as well as a satisfying one. Let’s hope I have occasion to do it again soon(ish).

Before I go, I suppose I should give you a bit of a heads-up as to what’s to come in the short term. I’ll have a post for you next Friday as usual, but after that I’ll be on holiday for a couple of weeks, so it will be complete radio silence I’m afraid.  I’ll try to get a post up on 19 April, but no guarantees at this point.

The missus and I are actually going on what we are calling “Honeymoon Part 2”, to Vietnam. Hopefully that will give me plenty of things to write future posts about. I’m particularly looking forward to getting hold of some Mekong Whisky, and hoping to find some decent Japanese malts in the Duty Free. If not… I’m sure I’ll find something in the Duty Free… I figured also that I’d pick something up at Manchester Airport on the way out, so that I’ve got something to accompany me for the duration. I’m looking forward to that, too!

Then there’s  all the other things that there are to look forward to, but they’re not relevant to this blog, so I’ll leave it here. For now, have yourself a great weekend, and see you next week.

On the nice list; Balvenie and Scapa

Christmas is long past now, but a few things came out of the period that I wanted to talk about, so before it becomes even more irrelevant than it already is, here’s one of them.

One of the best things about Christmas for the booze-hound, is the prospect of receiving a new bottle that you didn’t have to buy yourself – i.e a gift. My friend John is in the enviable position of doling out projects to building contractors, and as such can expect several bottles of whisky from them each year. I’m sure there’s nothing dodgy about that at all.

While I’m not so blessed as to be the director of a large government funded organisation, I’m usually quite lucky at Christmas time, and tend to end up with two or three bottles once Father Christmas has been - and the magic lube that enables him to insert himself in your chimney - even when you haven’t got one, but instead have a gas fire… has settled. I must be on the nice list, though I can’t think why…

This year was no exception. Father Christmas obviously didn’t mind that I drank the bottle of Sol that had been left out for him by my brother-in-law and young nephews, because he still brought me a bottle of the Balvenie 12 year old, ‘double wood’ (40% ABV), and a Gordon and MacPhail bottling of Scapa (2001, 43% ABV). It was an honest mistake on my part; I thought the beer had been left out for me. I was a little suspicious as to why there was a cookie and a carrot there, but I didn’t want those, so I left them. Here’s some information and first impressions then of both my new distilled brethren.

Balvenie first: Father Christmas had brought me a bottle of this before, several years ago and I remember not being all that impressed. I was glad of a chance to try again though, since back then I was still taking my scotch with ice, so I couldn’t really have had any idea of what it is really like. I’m not being a snob; that’s just a fact. Given my first impression though, it meant I was unlikely to ever buy myself a bottle – short of seeing an absolute bargain. So a gift is just the ticket! You should be able to find this for around 30 quid. The Signature Edition is supposed to be better, by the way, and that’s about £5 more.

As I say, it’s 12 years old, aged for most of that time in ‘whisky’ barrels (no further information about those specified), and then finished for a few months in sherry casks. It’s a nice dark colour, and comes in a satisfyingly chunky bottle.

I’ve had a couple of tries of it by now, and I’m still undecided. The first taste was on our return home from Christmas with the family, and I’m thinking my taste buds must have been fried because I couldn’t taste anything. It was weird – it didn’t even taste like whisky, no matter how long I held it in my mouth and chewed it.

Then there was another unremarkable tasting before I took the bottle to our friends’ house for a takeaway night. Paul had bottles of Famous Grouse and Glenmorangie in already, so we each had a tasting of the three whiskies, side by side. We took a look at them first, before tasting them blindly.

I don’t think I’ve ever bought a bottle of The Famous Grouse, but Paul says it’s the only brand his dad will drink, so if anyone ever buys him anything else for Christmas, he just gives it away. I have had it, mind; it’s like the standard one that you get in miniatures on airlines.

In comparison to the Balvenie, the Glenmorangie and Famous Grouse were similarly pale, and in terms of taste, both were bland and watery. Paul and I both identified these two the wrong way round, but there wasn’t much to choose between them, and I think we assumed the better tasting one must be Glenmorangie, when it actually wasn’t. Their insipidness made the Balvenie seem complex and rich in comparison. We couldn’t be sure though, whether the Glenmorangie had been compromised in some way by sitting in Paul’s dad’s cupboard – perhaps on its side for some time, since Paul told me the cork had atrophied, and he had sealed it with one of those wine stoppers, but it didn’t fit properly.

As far as the Balvenie was concerned, this was encouraging and made me look forward to trying it again in more peaceful and serene circumstances. As ever, further tastings await, but I have decided the next one will be a full comparative test with all the other whiskies I currently have at my disposal – 5 in all (which seemed a lot until I met Andy from Manchester Whisky Club – 44!), but I’m looking forward to that tasting nevertheless. You’ll be able to read about how that went sooner rather than later – maybe next week, maybe the week after – so keep coming back.

The other bottle then, was the Gordon and MacPhail bottling of Scapa. Mrs Cake tells me that this one was recommended to Father Christmas by the people at the Reserve wine shop in West Didsbury, and you should be able to pick it up for around £35.

Gordon and MacPhail are merchants, and the way that works, is that merchants buy quantities of new make whisky direct from the distillery, then it can be aged either at the distillery, or by the merchant, in their own barrels. Presumably the merchant then decides how long it is aged for, and in what kind of barrels. I’m unclear at this point, as to whether they then blend different barrels of the spirit to achieve the desired effect, or whether all the contents come from the same barrel. It probably depends. Lots to learn.

 

So this particular bottle is from Orkney’s Scapa distillery. It was distilled in 2001, and bottled in 2012, so that could potentially have been aged for between 11 and 12 years, depending on exact dates (I don’t think I’ve ever heard of an 11 year old whisky…). How strictly do they stick to dates? Do they age for exactly 12 years, or do they just go with roughly 12 years? They probably blend from a variety to get it tasting right. The rule, after all, is that the age statement has to correspond with the youngest whisky that was used, so some will be 12 years and 2 months, some maybe even a year or more older than the statement. When the bottle states ‘distilled in 2001, bottled in 2012’ though, you can be sure there’s going to be nothing older in it.

Scapa is a er… pale yellowy colour, but it’s presented quite nicely. The fancy box it comes in has two gaping holes in it, so that you can see the labels on the front and back of the bottle. That’s all very well, but I presume that cancels out the practical considerations of a whisky box, which are to protect it from sunlight, should you not have room in your cupboard. I don’t think it’s important anyway. Supposedly if you leave whisky in direct sunlight it can turn cloudy, though this effect isn’t irreversible. It probably doesn’t matter if it’s chill filtered, and I suspect that since this is bottled at 43% ABV, it probably is chill filtered. It would probably say if it wasn’t, since that’s considered a good thing among enthusiasts.

Only one tasting of this whisky has taken place so far, this time at the home of some other friends (Phil and Laura), where we spent New Year’s Eve, drinking, eating, and dancing around like idiots – not even noticing midnight, when it came around. Not much to report then as yet, but I was suitably impressed – it seems like a classy whisky to me, though certainly not as interesting as the Lagavulin 16 that I’d given Phil for his birthday.  Let’s hope my fondness for the Scapa develops and deepens in the weeks to come.

That’s it for now, but don’t worry if you feel like you’ve been left hanging a little there; I do have plans to update you on impressions from future tastings, and there have been developments, they will just be part of a whole host of different posts dealing with my various experiences in alcothusiasm, rather than in any dedicated review of a single bottle. It is, after all, a blog, not an encyclopaedia or review compendium. And I ain’t no expert either way. Just sharing a bit of the love.

Before I go, I did have a whole weekend related newsletter for you, but since I didn’t get to post this before the weekend, it’s all irrelevant, so never mind. Instead, I hope your working week isn’t too painful. Join me back here on Friday evening for another post. Until then, remember you can follow me on Twitter, @alcothusiast.