Reacquainting - Highland Park 12

If you read my recent Canadian Adventure posts, you will already be familiar with the story of how I came into possession of another bottle of the Highland Park 12, a personal favourite and one that I have bought numerous times previously as presents for friends. On this occasion, it is as a failed gift attempt that I am able to revisit and see if another couple of years’ drinking experience has affected my opinion. It turns out my father-in-law doesn’t like peated whiskies at all – even this one which, being familiar with Islay’s heavily peated fare, I consider  to be mild.

Highland Park is still one of the coolest bottles around, with it’s chunky shape and oversized cork – not classy in a traditional sense exactly, just invitingly robust (just how I like my women…), treading that fine line between modern and classy with consummate ease.

I can’t help noticing the peaty aroma that escapes from the bottle on opening every time, but in the glass, the smoky nose is more subdued, and you forget there’s any peat in there at all. On first tasting, I’m thinking it’s not exactly a fine spirit, but it is so damn tasty. The body is a little light, but the profile is all class.

On first taste this time around, I was actually worried for a moment that Jim Murray was right in his 2013 Whisky Bible about the HP12 losing some of its quality, but I remembered I hadn’t appreciated my first bottle to its full extent immediately, and resolved to reserve final  judgement until a full appraisal could take place.

He doesn’t specifically say what’s wrong with this bottling, but puts it down to the cask and hopes it’s an anomaly. Consequently he scores it a mere 78. I have to say, I do believe I may have detected the slightest hint of a bum note in there, that it would seem was a logical effect of a cask issue, but even this note appeared only fleetingly and was quickly eclipsed by the mouthwatering flavours that are evident elsewhere within the spirit. So even with what I am going to accept as a possible slight flaw, HP12 is still significantly tastier than many a malt - especially at this price point.

I thought for a while that I might be loath to buy this as a gift until I could be certain the high standard was restored (or unless I needed to buy a gift, but couldn’t afford anything else at that particular time…), but as a dram for evening enjoyment, it clearly still has a lot to give.

By the end of my second tasting, I was convinced I’d been right all along, but to confuse matters further, other tastings proceeded to prove disconcerting; it isn’t quite right, is it? I thought, Or is it?

One night after band practice (and a beer), I settled in for another glass, and the flavours were delightful as they were dallying around on my tongue. I picked up a bit of bacon on the nose, along with the usual vanilla tones, and the spirit itself was soft, sweet and light. Probably the most I’d enjoyed a dram in many a week.

What is going on with this bottle?

I wondered maybe if this was a whisky to drink late at night (it was almost 11 when I poured it) but then, I usually drink it later on, having prepared myself with a blend first. Maybe that’s what I’m doing wrong, maybe it follows pilsner best…

Reviews on forpeatsake.com have alluded to the way the whisky can taste different from one day to the next. This is something I’ve noticed before but, perhaps this time, that effect is more pronounced than previously noted. Many of those reviews mention that this bottle has become a trusty backup, one to keep in the cabinet at all times, and I think that tendency to  transform further supports that practice.

So far I’ve found my second bottle of this more puzzling than the first though, by turns, no less satisfying or intriguing. It seems to me now, that if I don’t get another bottle in and on the go soon after this one, the whole quandary could begin over again – so why not keep it on standby and enjoy the rollercoaster consistently, repeatedly, in perpetuity…?

It is that good. And because of that, I am elevating this malt from where it stood at number 6 in my all time single malt rankings to number 2, behind only Caol Ila 12 and ahead of such luminaries as Ardbeg 10, Bladnoch 10 and Caol Ila Distiller’s Edition 2012. High praise indeed. I want another glass tonight, but it’s Thursday… sadly not a drinking night. Ah, but tomorrow…

Spirit Log: Lot No 40 and Centennial Limited Edition Canadian Rye Whisky

Lot 40 is the highly acclaimed single pot still Canadian rye whisky that I collected back around Christmas time. I was sold on the pretext that it is said to be comparable to scotch whisky… in some ways – though particularly to those who aren’t connoisseurs of scotch whisky. It seems Canadian whisky enthusiasts are jumping up and down about it, since the whisky of their great nation is often disparaged as being mixer fodder. Well, if this represents an outstanding example of what they have to offer, I have to try it, don’t I, if only to see what comparable to scotch means.

Lot 40 is produced in Ontario, and is the rebirth of a brand that, while noted for its quality, wasn’t able to survive on the market the first time around. It seems the prevailing opinion is that people weren’t ready for this kind of Canadian whisky. Far be it from me to comment on long term whisky trends, but I find it hard to believe a quality product could be considered too good to survive – if indeed it is a good quality product.

Well apparently, the time is right and the people are now ready to stump up 40-50 dollars Canadian for this new 43% 2012 edition.

Nicely presented, the bottle comes complete with a cork stopper, which is a nice touch for those of us who appreciate a nice single malt, while the bottle itself shows a diagram depicting the production process which is partially obscured by a modern but tasteful label that has been posited at a jaunty angle. Then there was an extra bit of bumf – another label – looped over the top. So far so good.

In terms of colour, Lot 40 appears to be much darker than you would expect of a single malt scotch – to the extent that I would actually compare it to a blend, though it is perhaps richer and more luxurious looking than that – in fact, it positively shimmers in the glass.

On the nose… yes, that’s the smell I have come to associate with Canadian whisky. Lacking the terms to describe my olfactory senses, I have to say I don’t know what that consists of, but it is what it is. At this stage, I am struggling to see how anyone could mistake this for scotch – other than the people who aren’t aware that not all whisky is scotch.

Lot 40 in the glass

It’s when you get to allowing that luminous liquid to frolic on the pink lawn of your tongue [when the hell did I write that?] that you (or at least I) get some idea of what all the fuss has been about. I’m still not saying it’s anything like scotch, but there is definitely a complexity here, far greater than my admittedly limited experience of Canadian whisky has thus far revealed.

How much is the quality of whisky down to complexity though? I’ve certainly counted lack of complexity as a negative before, but oftentimes something can just be a pleasure to drink… and if there’s complexity but no balance… well, I would expect it wouldn’t be a pleasure to drink – and if it isn’t a pleasure to drink… who’s going to want to drink it?

What I’m getting down to here is that while there is a great deal going on, on first impression Lot 40 lacks the subtletly to be truly great. It doesn’t wear its extra 3% alcohol too well and there is a sour bite that I suspect (though can hardly say for sure) is the result of aging in virgin oak casks – which I’m sure you’re already aware, is quite rare in scotch production as it is felt the virgin oak imparts too strong an influence on the mellow, malted barley. Curiously enough, some scotch distilleries have started releasing virgin oak aged expressions, so that’s one to try in the  future.

Now, I’ve noticed a lot of respectable whisky bloggers like to try their samples with a little water, to see if the spirit opens up any. It is supposed to, and in some cases it is said to improve the spirit, while in others it may not. I’ve made it no secret that this is lost on me (unless you’re talking about cask strength), but in the spirit of professionalism, and given that I felt the Lot 40 struggled a little with it’s strength, I thought I would add a little drop of water one time.

Sadly the result was that, once again, I felt I’d ruined a perfectly acceptable glass of whisky. No, I know my opinion is that the Lot 40 isn’t perfect, but neat is far superior to the watered down shadow of a dram it became with water. I’m just going to say, once and for all, this is the last time I try adding water to my whisky – except in the case of particularly strong cask strength editions. 50% ABV and below remains neat, above that I will [maybe] try a little water – but definitely not the liberal amounts some books suggest. Stop ruining my whisky!

Now, I’m coming to understand that you should never judge a whisky on first impressions. That may make a mockery of all those tasting sessions and festivals, but I have found it to be almost unequivocally true that whisky ‘opens up’ after the bottle has been open for an indeterminate amount of time. It can be months or merely weeks, but whatever it is, it really seems to work.

So while I was able to accept the complexity of Lot 40 at first, it was a few weeks before the sharper edges appeared to mellow out to produce a far more rounded and balanced spirit. All the negative elements I described previously… were still there, but they had actually begun to add to the experience, and make their contribution to Lot 40 deffo being my number one Canadian whisky. But how long would it last?

As the bottle approached the bottom, it was time for a direct comparison with another Canadian rye that I picked up on our last trip there, Highwood Distillers’ Centennial Limited Edition.

So what have we got here then?

The Centennial comes in a really tall bottle with a utilitarian black label. It is bottled at 40% and comes replete with a story about the master distiller being set a challenge and deciding to use only winter wheat or something. I forget now, I found it quite boring. I do wish distillers would give a bit more information about their product, but sometimes it’s like they’re merely pretending to give information like, tell my why? What was it supposed to achieve? Why is it interesting?

It is supposed to be a limited edition, but there’s no information as to why or how many bottles were produced, or anything really. Limited edition, limited information.

Highwood Centennial in the glass

For the appraisal of the Centennial, let me refer you now to some notes that I made.

Lacks any kind of sweetness or sharpness, leaving me with the impression of dust and tissues. Uninteresting on entry, though growing in confidence the longer you hold it on your tongue.

And that’s about all I got? Seriously, over the course of a whole bottle, I was left with very little impression at all. If we are talking direct comparison, the Lot 40 comes out well on top. I’m not saying there was anything bad about the Centennial, I just think that, like the “story” of its creation, for a “limited edition” it is singularly uninteresting.

Let us leave the Centennial behind then, and consider the place of Lot 40 in the wider context of whisky in general. There is of course good and… not so good… in all styles and categories, so it is unfair to say single malt is better or blended scotch is worse – nothwithstanding that I haven’t tried them all yet.

Where does it fit though? Well, it is the best Canadian whisky I’ve tried so far and it is probably the most expensive though it is still cheaper than most single malt scotch at the lower end of the price spectrum. Is it better than them? It is obviously dependant on personal taste – it’s better than some, but in my opinion is it is still bested by such entry level products as Glenfiddich 12, Strathisla 12, Balvenie 12 Double Wood, Talisker 10, Glenfarclas 10, Laphroaig 10, Highland Park 12, Glenmorangie Original  and Caol Ila 12. It is preferable to Glenlivet 12, Jura and Jura Superstition and Glen Garioch Founder’s Reserve.

If you compare it to blended scotch, it tends to fare a bit better. I would say it is superior to Whyte & MacKay Special, Grant’s Family Reserve, Cutty Sark, Dewar’s 12, Grouses Black and Famous and all the supermarket varieties except Asda’s McKendrick’s. Jim McEwan’s Symphony, Ballantine’s, White Horse, and Grant’s Sherry Cask are all preferable. I only haven’t mentioned Bell’s, Teacher’s and other basic blends here because it has been a long time since I have tried them and don’t know myself where they fit in at present.

It would be nice to be able to give you some idea of how it compares with various brands of bourbon, but I have even fewer terms of reference in that regard at this point. Hopefully that will change soon, pending the results of my recent holiday in Florida… but as ever, that is for another time.

Time for a conclusion I suppose. Lot 40 is reasonably priced for those of us who are accustomed to UK liquor prices, though if you’re in Canada you might be used to getting slightly more for your dollar. That said, I’m going to advise you that it is worth a punt – to us Brits who might be interested in expanding our horizons, to Canadians who might like a homegrown product that gives the impression a little more care has gone into it, and to anyone else that’s curious about whisky. Give it as go and let me know what you think.

And that’s me for this week. The weekend comes early as I have tomorrow booked off for a trip to Alton Towers. That means I might be having a scotch tasting four-way this evening. And then – it’s a good weekend for me, this – there’s a big poker night on Saturday and I’ll be breaking out a couple of bourbons and an absinthe, so if I was to say I wasn't excited, you know I'd be lying.

I'm going to have a good one, I hope you do too. I'll see you next week.

Spirit log:Strathisla 12

bottle and box

This week I think we’ll just have a very quick and basic whisky review. Perhaps it would be a bit unfair to call anything I do an actual review come to think of it… so how about, I don’t know, an account?

Whatever it is, this week I’m looking at a 12 year old Strathisla that I received as a Christmas present. It was a nice surprise because it’s one I hadn’t heard of before.

A bit of internet research revealed that this is something of a new bottling, in which the bottle itself has changed to what I call the Bruichladdich style, the label has become white, minimalist and shows pagodas and, more importantly, the strength has been reduced from a healthly 43 to a disappointing 40% ABV – why, Lord, why?!

in a Lagavulin glass...

You can pick up the Strathisla 12 in various supermarkets and the like for around £35, so it falls into the low average pricing category of single malts.

Strathisla, I found, is the oldest highland distillery, and the spirit it produces forms the core of internationally famous blend, Chivas Regal – so you might say it is to Chivas Regal what Caol Ila is to Johnnie Walker.

Now, I have tried the Chivas, and I wasn’t all that bothered, so what will I think of the Strathisla?

In terms of colour, it has a reddy tinge, which is quite attractive and it proves to be easy-drinking; not one that leaps out and slaps you round the chops, but there’s definitely nothing bad about it, and that can only be good. There’s a sweet silkiness on entry, pursued by a rough and contrasting bite – a contrast that I’ve been enjoying as it is an interesting juxtaposition.

While it reminds me of Glenmorangie in flavour profile, as time passed it became evident that the Strathisla doesn’t have the same allure that the Glenmorangie did – I was constantly choosing to drink something else from my collection instead; the Glen Scotia 16, for example which for all its flaws (as you’ll see in a future post), had something interesting and beguiling about it, or the Highland Park 12 that hooked me as a puzzle does, and made me want to figure it out.

Strathisla was pleasant but ultimately uninteresting. Nor was it one that I would bring out to impress guests and sadly that means it doesn’t rank very highly in the malt hierarchy. I would be interested in trying the earlier 43% bottling, as I hear that is excellent but it doesn’t appear to be available anymore. Shame.

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…