Actual important research, carried out scientifically - The Standard Supermarket Blended Scotch Test

Concept

Having started my whisky love affair around 10 years ago with Aldi’s 8 year old Highland Black, a blend I consider to be a ‘standard supermarket blend’ (though it probably actually isn’t, given its declared 8 years), I have, as my knowledge of whisky and taste for it develops, for some time now held a curiosity about how good standard supermarket blends actually are. I hadn’t bought one since the last time I bought the Highland Black, as you generally only have to pay a couple of pounds more to get a basic entry level brand – Cutty Sark, Ballantine’s Finest, Dewar’s, Whyte and Mackay, Bell’s, Teachers, Grant’s, Johnnie Walker Red, and The Famous Grouse are all what I would call affordable – but that curiosity kept on niggling away at me. I was going to have to do something about it, something like getting a bottle of each standard supermarket blend in all at once and holding a tasting – even if it was just with myself.

Now, I didn’t want to be stuck with 3.6-4.2 litres of crap scotch when I was done, but the supermarkets have already thought of that – you can buy most of them in 35cl bottles, so while I wouldn’t normally buy a half size bottle without good reason, I decided to make that one of the experiment’s conditions of entry. Unfortunately, that prevents Highland Black from entering, but I can always get it to play the winner later on – assuming this experiment doesn’t put me off cheap blends for good.

I was actually thinking of doing this with all the genres of spirits, but while drinking a glass of standard Sainsburys white rum one day, I realised white rum, gin and vodka were all likely to be dull – and then I would be stuck with litre upon litre of crap spirits. On top of that, budget spirits brands tend to be around only 36-37.5% alcohol and that renders them fairly uninteresting for a start, but with whisky, you can’t even call it whisky unless it reaches the standard 40%. To paraphrase Jim Murray; don’t add water to your whisky, as in most cases that will bring it to below 40% ABV… and then it ain’t whisky no mo’. Something like that.

So anyway, finally we will know which supermarket has the best standard blended scotch. I’ll be contacting the winner to congratulate them on their prestigious achievement, and I’ll let you know if they respond.

Competition Rules

1. It must be a standard blended scotch. Some supermarkets offer a super cheap expression – budget, no frills, value, everyday essentials (perhaps not every day… I’m not sure a supermarket would be allowed to suggest you drink scotch every day…) and the like – these are ineligible, as is any supermarket expression that is slightly above standard.
2. It must state “bottled for [insert supermarket]” on the label.
3. It must be available in a 35cl bottle (or smaller).
4. Those are all the rules.

There was going to be a rule about not having to ask for the whisky at a counter, thus weeding out mini-markets and things that can’t be considered a supermarket. In the end though, I had to drop this rule because the Cooperative is a supermarket, it does have its own brand of blended scotch, and I had to ask for it from behind the counter in the Piccadilly Gardens branch.

Collection

Yes, I am a geek, but I am not geeky enough to visit all the supermarkets in one day in order to buy their standard blend. Nor did I want to spend around £50 on cheap scotch in one day. Instead, I figured I could just collect one whenever I was passing a supermarket, or happened to be popping in…

Time to start engineering “impromptu” trips to Tesco, Morrison’s, Asda, Sainsburys, Waitrose and Marks and Spencer. Aldi don’t do a half bottle, nor do Lidl, though they would have been able to enter if they did.

Tesco (Burnage) and Morrison’s were accomplished with no difficulty, since I go in Tesco fairly frequently anyway and we were passing the Morrison’s by Sheffield’s Parkway on the way to Phil’s one weekend.

A week or two later a leisurely Saturday afternoon turned into a trip to the big Asda (Hulme), and then a need to pick up lunch one Wednesday led to a stop at Sainsburys (Birchfields Road).  It wasn’t all plain sailing though.

I knew Waitrose would be tricky, since we don’t have many of those in the north. I heard Mrs Cake was heading to Wilmslow one weekend and enlisted her to pop in, even finding the product online in order to provide her with a picture and make sure she got the right one... only for her to change her plans and therefore scupper mine. That turned out to be the last I collected, having to call into the small one on Bridge Street after a Christmas party.

The same week Mrs Cake changed her plans with regard to Waitrose, a trip to the M&S in Trafford Centre proved fruitless. They didn’t have their standard blend in a 35cl bottle, and while they did have a 20cl of the 5 year old Kenmore variety I quickly decided that would be ineligible since it was one class above standard. I actually stood there for about 5 minutes, hoping I’d spot a 35cl standard blend if I looked hard enough, but in the end I had to admit defeat and wait until I could pop into the M&S in town – even managing to resist the temptation to buy the Kenmore just for the sake of it. Rules: sometimes they are good.

I finally had to exclude M&S altogether when I did make it to the big store in town, and they didn’t have a 35cl bottle. They do have it in 70cl, and I would really like to be able to compare it to all the others, but I’m sorry M&S, rules are rules so don’t go breakin em.

Pricing

More or less across the board, the blends were priced at a tempting and affordable £6.50 to £7. Asda, Tesco and Morrison’s inhabited the lower end of the scale, while Sainsburys consider themselves that 50p classier. Waitrose’s website states that theirs is £7, but that must be online and in the big stores, since I had to pay something like £7.35 (sorry, I forget exactly how much it was).

The real surprise though, was that I had to pay a ma-hoossive £8.35 for the Cooperative’s entry. At this stage I don’t know whether this is because I bought it from a small city centre store and whether it would have been cheaper say, in West Didsbury or whether it’s just that expensive. What I do know is that I don’t want to be collecting supermarket whiskies forever, so I just bought it anyway to hurry things along a little. What started out as a long term project to be completed whenever had quickly turned into an obsession as I clamoured to complete my collection and get the tasting underway. Time would tell whether it would be worth all the effort.

In total then, I spent £42.19 on 210cl of  standard supermarket blends.

Method

McKendrick's (Asda) vs Waitrose

So how would the test be carried out? I considered pouring all six into glasses at once and then just drinking them side by side, but I actually wanted a companion for this experiment. Enter David, fellow member of the Manchester Whisky Club, who was delighted to come over one Friday night and help out.

I would ideally have liked to have two rounds, three whiskies in each round with a winner being picked from each and facing each other in the final, but it turns out I only have 5 glencairn glasses. So instead, David came up with a winner stays on system, whereby we would each start with the same two samples, decide on a winner, and then compare it with the next sample until one was left standing at the end.

Before we could start the tasting though, let us consider another important factor, presentation.

Presentation

spirit wheel

I like that they all come in bottles of an identical size and shape. It means you can arrange them like this for interesting photographs. I actually like this bottle shape anyway, since it is clearly designed to fit snuggly into your jacket pocket, like a hip flask (though it isn’t shaped to fit your hip). If you see someone buying one of these, you just assume they’re going to drink it straight away, don’t you? Perhaps that’s why M&S don’t do one – they’re too classy for that kind of thing.

It is interesting to me to see the various similarities and differences. Both Tesco and Asda have gone for a traditional and professional look. Asda have actually gone so far as to name theirs McKendricks Whisky - lah-di-dah -  rather than just something generic like Blended Scotch or Select Reserve.

Sainsburys and Morrisons on the other hand, have gone for minimal fuss with a modern, uncluttered label, one depicting a distillery in a circular box and the other a thistle. Co-op have depicted a piper and included a silver medal from the IWSC (the only entry to do so), while Waitrose haven’t even bothered to include a generic Scottish image, but there you go.

I find it interesting that Asda and Tesco have specified that their product was aged for at least 3 years in oak barrels, since that’s a minimum requirement for calling it scotch whisky. So for whatever reason, the other supermarkets have chosen to eschew that information, presumably secure in the knowledge that their customers either know that already, or aren’t likely to be swayed by any lack of age statement and maturing information. I suppose if you’re buying an own brand blend, you’re not snooty about these things – since the only other option is to leave the supermarket and go to another one… not really worth it for the sake of an age statement.

Particularly amusing was that, when I searched for Asda’s standard blend on their website, it informed me that the 35cl bottle is frequently bought with Asda brown onions. Make of that what you will.

Colour

before...

This is weird. They are all exactly the same colour. There has to be caramel added, so presumably this represents an exact whisky colour profile that is considered to be most attractive to the consumer – though I can’t think why; I certainly don’t find it inspiring. This is whisky that is brown rather than an attractive pale gold or amber. One thing’s for sure, none of the supermarkets have decided to take a risk by being any different to any of the others. It makes you wonder whether the whisky is in fact the same. It will be a massive disappointment if that turns out to be the case.

Surprisingly, this uniformity doesn’t carry over into the glass. Yes, they are similar, but when we poured our first two samples (Asda and Waitrose), we noticed that the Waitrose was darker. Then, later we noticed that Tesco’s entry was closer to the Waitrose colour, but not as… shimmery.

Tasting

I had planned to break this next section down into categories of nose, palate and finish, but let’s be realistic; with all that booze floating about and only a very light tea consumed, we were starting to get hammered pretty quick and my notes became illegible and fragmented. I’ll just try and relate what I’ve got.

We started, as I said with Asda’s McKendrick’s and Waitrose. The nosing immediately revealed a startling difference. We liked Asda, but Waitrose gave a hit of nail varnish, caramel and molasses.

When we moved on to the tasting, we were immediately impressed with Asda. It is light and sweet, reminding me of the Ballantine’s Finest that I’d recently been enjoying. David said it had a ‘grittiness’ that he liked. I didn’t really understand and we had a brief discussion about how people seem to describe spirits they are trying for the first time as “smooth”, and how in a lot of cases I a) don’t know what they mean, and b) think they’re just making it up for something to say because smooth is considered good. David and I agreed we both like a degree of roughness to our spirits, a bit of burn.

Anyway, when it came to the Waitrose, we were both horrified. What the fuck is this? It’s minging. How dare they bottle this and pass it off as blended scotch? It reminded me very much of the Wall Street that I picked up in Vietnam. We concluded it had definitely been coloured with caramel spirit, and was devoid of any character or redeeming features. Waitrose, this is just awful.

So Asda was the clear (and unexpected) winner. We selected Tesco as the next contender, refilling our Asda glass, and swilling out the Waitrose one. I tried drinking the whole Waitrose sample, but it wasn’t nice, so I threw some of it down the sink. For the second round I poured smaller measures.

We noted that Tesco gave an impression of being artificially coloured on the nose, but it didn’t appear as shiny as Waitrose. When it came to tasting though, we concluded it was bad, though not quite as bad as the Waitrose had been.

Asda was victorious again, and would next face the Morrison’s offering. By this stage I was struggling to taste anything so we had to start sipping sparkling water in between samples to keep our tired palates awake.

Morrison’s proved to be fairly inoffensive on the nose, and on the palate a little harsh – but I liked that. It had a slightly dark flavour at the end, but while it was no match for Asda, it was actually quite pleasant.

Co-op was next up. As [easily] the most expensive of the competitors, you’d be hoping it would have a flavour profile to match. I’m going to give you direct quotes from my note book here:

“I like the Co-op, & [sic] I’m not sure if it’s Asda beating… It was agreed that Vince Vaughn is a twat… Yesh [sic] Co-Op not as good”.

Not as good, but fairly good nonetheless.

Finally then, we have Sainsburys. David proclaimed that this sample was identical to Asda, but I maintained that Asda just has a little something extra, that I’m going to call the edge. There was just a note about the Sainsburys that didn’t sit quite right. Nevertheless, a decent effort.

Before we move on to the verdict, I’d just like to share one more note from my book in direct quotation:

...more or less after.

“David is now unsure what he is drinking, while Neil is unsure of what went before.”

Yeah, we were pretty hammered and ready to start drinking the special stuff we’d been saving. David had brought an Amrut Fusion while the most special thing I had at the time was the Glen Scotia 16. It was about time we ordered some pizza also.

Verdict

When considering the verdict, you’ve got to ask yourself what was the purpose of all this anyway? Obviously I want to see which of the supermarkets has the best blended scotch, but to what purpose? I suppose I’m trying to use this as a benchmark. You see, it isn’t just blends that supermarkets produce their own versions of. There are also ultra-cheap blends, slightly more upmarket, even aged blends, single malts based on various of the distilling regions of Scotland then there are the different varieties of rum, brandy… so I’m wondering whether the quality of the standard blend might tell us something about all the other varieties of own brand alcohol. Sadly you know it won’t. I’ll ultimately have to try all the other varieties too. Since I’m destined to fail on that score, why don’t I break it down to the following questions, and see if that tells us anything:

Are these comparable in terms of quality to the cheap standard brands that they are emulating?

In some cases, yes. Asda, Morrison’s, Sainsburys and Co-op all supplied decent, even pleasant products. As I said, Asda seemed very similar to Ballantine’s, while a later tasting of Sainsburys brought to mind the standard Grant’s. They certainly aren’t to be sniffed at.

Would I buy any of these again?

I would definitely buy Asda’s again, without a doubt. The others listed as comparable above? Sure, if I only had £7, needed a bottle of scotch and only had access to one of those supermarkets. I would buy with confidence.

Is any one supermarket brand the daddy of them all?

Finally, yes. Asda confounded expectation, and is duly crowned the daddy of them all. Seriously, well done Asda and keep up the good work. All that remains is to give you the full list, in order of preference. Here you go:

1. McKendrick’s by Asda
2. Morrison’s Blended Scotch Whisky
3. Sainsburys Blended Scotch
4. Cooperative Blended Scotch
5. Tesco Special Reserve
6. Waitrose Blended Scotch

Thanks for joining me for this scientific experiment. I hope you’ve enjoyed it, found it useful, and that it has answered the question of whether supermarket blends are any good once and for all. Don’t worry, this isn’t the end by any stretch of the imagination. There are always more spirits to try, and David tells me he’d like to do the same thing with the super cheap supermarket blends, so I’ll be sure to let you know how that turns out.

See you again, then.

Postcript

While David and I agreed on the night, and while the results will stand as testament to that, in personal tastings since the Cooperative Blended Scotch has actually excelled, while Morrison’s, which placed 2^nd, has failed to impress, so I would actually like to elevate the Co-operative Blended Scotch to 2^nd, but that’s just for me. For the rest of you, take the ranking above.

Thanks, and see you next time.

Golfageddon

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

“Oh-ho-ho! Speak Spanish!”

“Uh… un poco.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amstel it was, then.

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

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

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

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

DYC 10...

...and in the shower

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

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

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

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

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

Chris' Johnnie Walker Red (after a day)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gran Duque d'Alba

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

Booze Tourism: Vietnam, man!

It has been quite some time since I had a booze tourism adventure to tell you about – I suppose the Distilgrimage would have classed as one, but I didn’t make that connection until just now… Nevertheless, this time I’ve got quite an adventure for you – such an adventure in fact, that it will have to be told in two parts. In April, the missus and I embarked on a trip to the South East Asian country of Vietnam in what we were calling Honeymoon Part 2. You can read about Honeymoon Part 1 here.

I always look forward to going away on holiday – for all the obvious reasons – but also because it means I can try lots of new different kinds of alcoholic beverage, hit the Duty Free, make some new acquisitions and all that good stuff. Deciding what to buy and thinking about buying it and then buying it are all fun things for the alcothusiast – probably exceeded only by the actual opening of it - and holidays are a time when I try to forget about cash flow realities, and just think, I am going to buy some interesting booze, and there is nothing you can do to stop me. Try it. Go on. Told you.

Beyond the Duty Free, I hadn’t really expected Vietnam to provide all that much in terms of booze excitement – Malaysia didn’t – but I couldn’t have been more wrong. In fact the Duty Free turned out to be the least interesting part, so we may as well start there. There’s lots to tell you about, so let’s get gannin’.

It was hot and noisy and I was definitely sitting in my pants

I began thinking about possible targets a good couple of weeks before departure, so that I might be best prepared when the time came to make the most of the limited purchases a traveller can make. You’re pretty much allowed a litre of spirits, but in my case it’s two litres because I had Mrs Cake’s allowance to supplement my own.

Research began with a quick look in the Rough Guide to Vietnam, where I read about ruou can, which is rice distilled liquor and thought that might be an interesting option. Then I read about Mekong Whisky on the internet, but some reviews suggested it might make you ill. On top of that, it seemed that it was made in Thailand, was more like rum than whisky, and wasn’t even available any more in any case. I’ll put you out of your misery; none of this proved useful since I didn’t see either of those products anywhere.

Since my early forays into research proved so unsuccessful, I started thinking laterally. I figured Vietnam is near Japan, isn’t it? Yes, kind of, so wouldn’t it make sense that Duty Free in Vietnam would be a good place to pick up some Japanese single malts? Stands to reason.

With that in mind, I started some over-geeky, exhaustive research.

Japanese whisky is renowned for its quality. According to Jim Murray’s 2013 Whisky Bible, the atmospheric conditions in Japan are preferable to those in Scotland, to the degree that 42 summers in Japan are equivalent to 70 in Scotland in terms of whisky maturation. I’m not really sure how useful that is; how often do you hear of scotch being aged 70 years? I keep reading that whisky can be over-aged, so if anything is going to be over-aged, surely it’s going to be the 70 year old stuff… why not just say 7 years in Japan is equivalent to 12 in Scotland? Why, Jim?

I had tried Japanese whisky just once previously myself – Suntory Hibiki 17 – and I was duly impressed. I figured this was as good a chance as any to get my hands on a bottle of my own.

I found a few websites that were dedicated to Japanese whisky (linked on the right of this page…), and left them each comments, letting them know I was finding their information useful, and one of them actually replied… to tell me that they had been to Vietnam, and from what they could remember, there wasn’t any Japanese whisky in the Duty Free, but wished me luck anyway. Undeterred, I figured there would surely be something at Dubai airport – where we had to catch connecting flights in both directions, so I wasn’t worried. Just to bring some of the excitement of purchasing booze forward a little, I also decided I’d pick something up from the Duty Free at Manchester Airport for consumption during the holiday… something I suspect I’ll be doing more frequently from now on.

I figured a 35cl bottle would do, since I didn’t want to be discouraged from picking up and opening extra things along the way.

I’d like to note at this point that there were three or four Japanese single malts available in Manchester Airport’s Duty Free – Suntory Hibiki, Yamazaki and the like. I’d already decided though, that I wanted to spend less than £15 and get a single malt scotch. They had various expressions of Glenfiddich in 20cl form, as well as the blend Johnnie Walker Blue in 35cl format, but none fitted my idea of what I wanted to get for my money. I opted for a 35cl bottle of Glenfarclas 10 year old. I’d never had this one before. It’s a Speyside single malt, and is a pretty standard 40%. Next stop; Dubai.

Glenfarclas 10 

Dubai Airport is like the hub of the whole world. It’s like the cantina in Star Wars; people from all over the universe passing through on their way elsewhere… It’s great seeing such a diverse range of people peacefully coexisting and going about their business. Our schedule didn’t afford us much time to hang out there this time, but there was ample opportunity to scout out possible purchases for the return leg. As you might expect, there was a lot of scotch, but once again, there were no Japanese malts, so I would have to pin my hopes on Duty Free at Ho Chi Minh City, which would be our departure point on the return leg.

On arriving at our hotel in Ho Chi Minh City, a good 15 hours or more (without sleep) after our 8pm departure from Manchester, I considered postponing the opening of the Glenfarclas, to build up a bit of anticipation, but then I thought… phuckit, I may as well try it now, on our balcony, in the searing evening heat, in me pants.

HCMC

Here’s a picture of it out on the balcony. Unfortunately you can’t feel the heat, hear the noise, or see me sitting in my pants, but take it from me, it was hot and noisy and I was definitely sitting in my pants – photo evidence of that exists, though if you saw it, you might think there were no pants…

I was a bit disappointed to find that the bottle had a screwcap. I think that’s the first time I’ve seen a single malt without a cork – even on a 35cl bottle. Mind you, this was only the first 35cl bottle I’d ever bought, and I think I’ve only ever owned one other, so it might be more common than I think. You can let me know in the comments if you like.

If there was ever any doubt over my geek credentials, let me just dispel the rumours by saying, yes, I did consider taking a Glencairn glass with me, so that I might be able to give my purchase a proper nosing and tasting. Common sense prevailed though, and I settled on using whatever type of glass was provided in each hotel room. As a result perhaps, my tasting notes are somewhat lacking. I’ve got nothing under ‘nose’, and under ‘palate’ all I have is ‘soft, light and pleasingly oily – a little bit of sherry in there, I think’.

That impression was gleaned progressively throughout tastings in HCMC, Hanoi, Halong Bay and finally, Can Tho in the Mekong Delta, where I polished it off while watching week old Premier League action on the TV. My moment of maximum appreciation (which is now going to be a ‘thing’ that will henceforth be abbreviated to MOMA – every bottle has one) came one night previously in our honeymoon suite in Hanoi. Sweet and delicate. Nice. I think I’ll buy this again some time. I wonder whether it benefited to some extent from the hot and humid climate.

at Halong Bay

So how did I get on with procuring some Japanese single malt? Well, I’ll tell you: I didn’t. On the whole trip – which took in several destinations and airports – I only saw one bottle of Japanese single malt whisky. It was in a fancy looking liquor store in Hanoi, and it didn’t have a price on it. I didn’t bother asking as there seemed to be a family in there having their evening meal. As I was flying back to HCMC the next day, and still had some Glenfarclas, I didn’t want two glass bottles in my bag, pushing the weight allowance and potentially causing breakage.

By this point I had decided that, should Duty Free in HCMC be disappointing, I’d save my allowance (like I’m a teenager in a film from the 80s) until returning to Dubai, at which point I’d get a very reasonably priced bottle of Wild Turkey 101 (50.5% ABV), like the first time I went to Canada. I didn’t realise back then that whiskies were produced in different expressions, so when Mrs Cake bought me a bottle of Wild Turkey a couple of years later, I couldn’t figure out why it was only 40%, and wondered whether I had imagined the stronger version.

Ultimately HCMC Airport did turn out to be disappointing, the only highlight being a free sample of Camus Ile de Re Cliffside Cellar Cognac, which I’d never heard of before, but saw throughout the airports of Vietnam. They gave me a little dribble, and I wished I’d just poured my own without asking. A full bottle was something like $110, but I could have had away with a full plastic cup, and just wandered the airport sipping it if I’d been a bit more daring. I don’t know if I could say a bottle would be worth as much as that, but I did enjoy that little dribble.

Unfortunately I didn’t even get chance to pop back in to Duty Free in Dubai, as our plane was boarding by the time we got to the gate. Nevermind. I’d spent a bit more money than expected, and figured I’d just save my budget and buy a bottle of Japanese single malt when I got home – I’d got over £40 in Amazon vouchers to use, and that seems like a good way to spend them. Once again, watch this space.

You can’t get drunk on three whiskies in 8 hours. You just can’t.

I have a bit of a problem when it comes to flying long distances – I’m one of those people who can’t sleep on a plane. I have to be able to lay flat on my side, and that just ain’t happening. There is no lying on your side in an airplane seat. I wonder why they don’t just do rows of bunks on aircraft instead of seats. That would work a treat. Sure, it would make the meals a little tricky, but I it would be totally worth the sacrifice.

No, no matter how tired I get, the most I can manage is a fitful 20 minutes here and there. It does make you feel a little better, but generally exacerbates the feeling that you are waking up in purgatory. In fact, on a flight back from Canada some time ago, someone told me there was a product I could buy in a pharmacy that would just put me out for the duration. Sounds great, right? Fall asleep, wake up at your destination. No. It just made me even more tired than I already was, but still unable to catch any zeds.

The only time I have been able to sleep for anything like a decent amount of time on a plane was on our return from Malaysia, where we were upgraded to Business Class. It was nice having all that room, and chairs that recline almost (but not near enough) to flat, but even this was annoying because they had three types of scotch in business class, of varying ages, that I would have liked to have tried if I’d been awake on the rare occasions they came round.

So, how was I going to deal with two consecutive flights of around 8 hours each, starting at 8 in the evening, this time? Well, the benefit of flying with airlines like Emirates is… that the alcohol is free. So I was just going to drink whisky the whole way – and I was looking forward to that.

It’s surprising though, how challenging this can be. First you have to wait for take off, after which it can take an age for the drinks trolley to reach your seat. Then you have no idea how long it’s going to be until next time. Maybe there will be a meal first, maybe not. You could just keep calling the stewardess over, but you don’t want to be a dick demanding drinks for 8 hours. They’re probably told to monitor alcohol intake. Then you can’t just lose yourself in your book, or in listening to music or watching films because you have to be on a constant state of alertness. If you’re not, they just slink past, assuming you’re not going to want anything. We were also in a kind of stewardess no-man’s land where it appeared they were about to start every run with our row, but then they’d just fuck off and start right at the back or right at the front and get to us last.

On the first flight (Manchester to Dubai), I managed a paltry three drinks. That’s piss poor. In fact, I’m pretty sure I had to get up and ask for one of them. I ask you.

The scotch in question was Johnnie Walker Red, which I always profess to not being very fond of. I have to say though, I thoroughly enjoyed it (at first). It was light and smooth, and I swear I could taste a bit of the Caol Ila that is famously in there, though obviously it didn’t come anywhere near the complexity of the Islay malt. It also lacked the sweetness. By my third though, I had started to feel I was immune to its flavour, and needed something else.

Mrs Cake asked me if I was getting drunk. I said you can’t get drunk on three whiskies in 8 hours. You just can’t.

Luckily on the second leg of the trip (Dubai to HCMC), I learned that they also had Dewar’s White Label, which I hadn’t had before, and was glad to be able to give it a try. It contains an element of the sweetness that the JW Red lacks. I managed about 5 of these, which I thought was fairly good going. At one point the steward actually gave me two at once (just in case). I had started to order ‘whisky and coke’ so that I could knock back the coke for refreshment before sipping the whisky at leisure for prolonged periods.

Except for the demoralising tiredness, tension over when I could next request a drink, and strain of maintaining the degree of alertness that facilitating consistent plane-drinking requires, it was a fairly enjoyable flight. They need to get those drinks out a bit quicker and more frequently, though.

I was hoping to have a nice booze buzz when I we arrived at HCMC, but I was still sober as a judge.

On the way back I was a little less in the mood for drinking, but there’s always some part of me that says, ‘you may as well’, so I decided to see what kind of brandy they had, and it was Hennessey VSOP, another I hadn’t tried previously. It was pretty good, and though I had only the one, I’m fairly sure I enjoyed it more than the Courvoisier VSOP that I had a bottle of some time ago. It’s smoother on the palate, and a bit less bitter on the finish.

That then, concludes part 1 of Vietnamese booze tourism. Join me next week for part two when I’ll be getting a bit more ensconced in things that are actually Vietnamese and talking about beer, vodka and unusual Vietnamese drinks – amongst other things.