Intro
Aldi and Lidl –
they’re quite similar aren’t they? Though only one of them (Lidl) smells like
fish food. Both are budget supermarkets, both European, both have their own
branded goods… and to that end, they each have their own [apparently] exclusive
brands of alcohol. It makes you wonder; which is best?
I don’t mind telling
you, I do most of my shopping at Aldi, and I definitely prefer the atmosphere
in [most] Aldis to that of Lidl, though I rarely buy booze there. It doesn’t
mean I haven’t. I started out drinking the 8 year old blended scotch, Highland Black as I’ve told you several
times before. I’ve also tried the white and dark rum varieties of Old Hopking,
the Vinelli vermouth, Oliver Cromwell gin, Tamova vodka, Ballycastle Irish Cream,
Clarke’s bourbon… there’s more to try, but what I’ve tended to conclude over
the years is that Aldi’s quality is all right – for the price…
But what about Lidl?
It’s about time we found out isn’t it?
It would be nice to
do direct comparisons and get this out of the way pretty quickly, but there are
too many products to choose from, so I think it makes more sense to handle this
on more of an ongoing, cumulative basis. Furthermore, there are a number of
products that aren’t directly comparable.
I think what I’ll do
then, for the time being, is alternate purchases between one and the other and
attribute scores – either out of 10 or on some other maniacal, arbitrary scale
that I make up as I go along.
Part 1
It’s time then, for
part 1. After a very lean month, pay day made its merry way around and the
Cakemeister decided he wanted to spend some money and headed out at lunchtime
to the nearby Lidl. I think I was in part inspired by a new blog I found,
Booze Review in which budget brands of alcohol are consumed and reviewed.
On arrival at the
booze aisle, I can’t say I wasn’t tempted by the blended malt, but at £19.99 it
was more than I’d planned to relinquish at that point. What I plumped for was
the
James Cook Premium 3 year old rum
(£12.99, 40% ABV). My
Mount GayEclipse was on the wane, and I’d been holding back on finishing it for
some time, so the need seemed more pressing than for the other spirits, such as
the brandy that was also calling me – I was after all, due a holiday in Spain
in another month, so it seemed sensible to sort that one there. Being used to
budget products being relatively low strength in the main, I figured that at
40% I couldn’t go wrong here.
James Cook has a
hue… not unlike urine… in fact, very much so like urine. We won’t let that
bother us though, we’ll just hope it isn’t representative of the quality of
this particular spirit. The bottle is quite authentic looking, in that it
doesn’t at first glance look total shit, though there is a clue in how it is
non-specific about where its contents come from – just the Caribbean in
general… and presumably blended in Germany.
I opened the bottle
early one Saturday evening, and poured a generous measure into a glencairn
glass to begin the nosing. I was immediately struck by how unusual the aroma
was, light and citrusy. It all led me to expect that this might provide a taste
experience more akin to a nice blended scotch than a cheap, bitey gold rum.
How wrong I was. I
made some notes on my phone that reveal an accelerating realisation of horror –
like in a film where they do that camera shot that zooms in on a face while the
backdrop falls away…
It was like that
scene in Peep Show where Mark goes
jogging for the first time and his first impression of how easy it is rapidly
evaporates as he tires and realises jogging is hard work, and what an idiot he
was to have gotten the wrong idea a mere matter of seconds before.
Going to my notes, I
see I have literally written:
“Weird, spicy, dirty…
but not in a good way. Oh, it’s fucking awful. It burns. It’s making me feel a
bit ill. I can’t drink it. It’s going in the sink…“
That is literally
the first time ever I’ve felt that I have wasted my money on something that I’m
not going to be able to drink. I’m serious, I will not be trying this neat
again. By my third sip the taste was so offensive that I wouldn’t even try this
with ice. I doubt you could even mix the
evil out of it. I will try that, mind.
Usually bad spirits
make decent hip flask fodder – or so previous experience had suggested… I can
see now that there is an underclass of spirits that aren’t just bad, they are
probably actually poison. Either that, or what I have thought of as hip flask
fodder before aren’t actually bad…
they just aren’t particularly good.
The
Sauza tequila was pretty bad, but it wasn’t so bad that I couldn’t knock
back a few shots to get the party started. Instinctive reactions (and probably
the gag reflex) would prevent me from even
trying
that with this
. Any thoughts of
sticking it in my hip flask for the following day’s
Sounds From the Other City festival were quickly quashed by common
sense. That would be a surefire way of taking a hip flask on a night out and
still not getting hammered.
All I could think was
that this might be a good thing to let friends try, just to demonstrate how bad
alcohol can be. But I wouldn’t even subject them to it.
You might think I’m
exaggerating a bit here, but I am serious: I have never tasted a spirit as bad
as this – let alone one that made me feel ill after a couple of sips. I don’t
know what that overbearing flavour is, but it is familiar, and it must be from
nightmares. It brings to mind celery, but even celery isn’t as bad as all that.
A little
searchy-search of the internets suggests that the dark variety of James Cook
might not be all that bad, however they do say once bitten, twice shy¸ and
therefore there is no way I am staking any of my wages against the quality of
another product sold under the James Cook label. It just couldn’t possibly be
worth it.
And for that reason
I have to determine that Lidl have scored a massive own goal, such that the
only way I can figure to give a score for this in my as yet unidentified
scoring system is to give it a negative
score. So minus 10 for you there, Lidl. I’ve actually been keeping a
ranking system for all the various types of spirits, and James Cook is so bad
that even though there are only 9 other rums on the list at this point, I have
ranked it in 100th place. And if I ever get around to ranking
another 90 brands of rum, I’m confident this will still be a lot worse than the
worst of them (I only rank based on full bottles experienced, not individual
tastes – just so you know).
The good news is
that I did go on to try this in a random summer cocktail that I made up, and it
didn’t totally ruin it – but there were a lot of strong flavours in there;
spiced rum, lemon juice, limoncello, orange juice and dry cider.
As time progressed,
the James Cook just sat on top of the cupboard, going nowhere, doing nothing
until one day I decided to pour it down the sink. I think there’s a bit of a
gleam around the plughole now, though the cheap alcohol smell lingered for
longer than I care to remember.
It may be some time
before I risk any further Lidl purchases, but I suppose I have to if I’m going
to maintain the integrity of this Aldi vs Lidl alcohol comparison. Until I do,
let’s assign arbitrary scores out of 10 to the Aldi and Lidl products I’ve
tried in the past with some useful notes.
Aldi Recap
Old Hopking White
Rum – 6 - a sad 37.5% alcohol and only £10 at time of purchase. Nothing offensive
about it that is going to ruin your cocktails. Should you buy it? You may as
well.
Old Hopking Dark Rum
– 7 – also 37.5% alcohol and sadly, I
can’t remember how much it was the last time I bought it. Quality is consistent
with its pigmentally challenged brother. In all fairness it is about on par
with the Captain Morgan though the alcohol content is lacking.
Ballycastle Irish
Cream – 7 – only 14.5% alcohol and a
little thin, but if you like Irish Cream, there’s no reason you aren’t going to
like this. When I last bought it it was a bargainous £3.99, though I think it has
since risen to around £4.29.
Ballycastle Premium
Irish Cream – 9 – ah, a budget Irish
Cream that matches up to Bailey’s 17% alcohol. That’s more like it. Originally
available at £5.99 (though subsequently at an increased cost of £6.49), this
has a richness so close to that of Bailey’s that you’d be insane to pass it up.
Tamova vodka (blue)
– 6 – an average “premium” supermarket
vodka that at least has the decency to chalk up 40 ABVs.
Oliver Cromwell
London Dry Gin – 4 – at 37.5% it’s
suitable for mixing, but not worth writing more than 4 words about.
Vinelli Dry Vermouth
– 6 – my introduction to the world of
vermouth and as such I didn’t have anything to compare it to at the time – much
less did I know what to do with it. Nonetheless, it’s decent enough.
Notable by their absence:
Highland Black 8 –
one of the very first brands of scotch I ever bought and, as such impossible to
comment on as I didn’t have anything to compare it to, nor any idea what scotch
was even supposed to be like at the time. One day I’ll buy another bottle.
Clarke’s Bourbon – I
mentioned that I’ve tried this one, and it also featured in my “review” of Jack
Daniel’s but sadly I only got to try a couple of measures, so it wouldn’t be
fair to score it here.
Lidl Recap
Putinoff Platinum
Vodka (blue) – 6 – an average vodka that
is entirely on par with Aldi’s alternative.
James Cook Premium
Rum 3 year old - -10 – well, you know
about this one now so let’s never speak of it again.
Coming Soon
Since beginning this
post and indeed the whole experiment, I’ve been appraising Aldi’s Cocobay
Coconut-Flavoured Rum Liqueur, their Glen Orrin 5 year old blended malt and
their Specially Selected Irish Cream.
You’ll be able to read about those in the coming months. As far as Lidl is
concerned, I picked up the Queen Margot blended scotch (though that’s David’s
birthday present) and a Romanetti Extra Dry vermouth. So again, check back
another time for updates.
Since purchases have
clearly been weighted in favour of Aldi so far, a simple totting up doesn’t
suffice here, so instead I’ll take an average score. That means Aldi currently
stands on an encouraging 6.43 out of 10, while Lidl racks up a confusing -2 out
of 10. It is clear that I need to be visiting Lidl a few more times in the
coming months to see if any of their products can raise that score out of the
gutter. I’ll see you then, next week
when I think I’m going to be talking about Rosso
vermouth, a budget brand I picked up from Tesco.
The thing is, Malibu
is generally too expensive (£12-16 depending where you shop and when) in my
opinion so… it’s almost like… you need a cheap alternative… and that’s where
the budget supermarkets come in – Aldi in this case where, for a fantastic
£4.99 you can pick up… Cocobay. It’s
21%, and worth adding to how ever many feet of Aldi shopping you’ve got already
– are we the only people who measure our Aldi shop in feet?
One of the things
I’ve noticed during the course of this ongoing Aldi-Lidl comparison is that
Aldi’s products almost all state “bottled for Aldi” on the label (Clarke’s bourbon
being a notable exception) while none of Lidl’s state anything to that effect. 
