Tag: Scotch

Quarantine Bottle Kill #5: Longrow Red 11 Year Cabernet Sauvignon Cask

Just because we’re in quarantine doesn’t mean that there can’t be a theme. Aside from sparking joy by eliminating bottles from the booze cart that is. So next up on the quarantine bottle list is the cousin to the last, the Longrow 11 Year Red: Cabernet Sauvignon Cask.

For all single malts produced in Scotland the brand must be identified with the distillery. Hence the Macallan whiskey being made at the Macallan distillery, the Jura at Jura, Laphroaig at Laphroaig, and so on. This seems intuitive yet it’s absolutely not how things are done here in the US. While there are a few eponymous distilleries most of them produce dozens of other brands as well. For example, Jim Beam not only produces Jim Beam but Bookers, Knob Creek, Basil Hayden, Old Overholt, and the many variations there of. 

This makes Longrow rather unique as it’s brand but not a distillery. Part of the reason this is allowed under Scottish law is that the brand is intrinsically understood to be produced at Springbank Distillery and the name of the distillery appears on every bottle. Larged embossed letters proudly proclaim “Springbank” above every label. But also, the style of Longrow is drastically different than its cousin allowing for a true separation and not just a label change on the same liquid.

Longrow, unlike Springbank, is heavily peated. There is actually a scientific way to measure the “peatiness” of a Scotch. It’s called Parts Per Million, or PPM, and is used to determine the phenol level after kilning but before distillation. Essentially the longer the malted barley is exposed to the peat fire during kilning the higher the peat and PPM. Longrow clocks in at 50 PPM which means it’s technically even peatier than the notorious peat bomb, Laphroaig which clocks in at 40 PPM.

So, here is a heavily peated Campbeltown Single Malt with less than a hundred casks produced every year at a non eponymous distillery. If that’s not enough to peak your interest then the Cabernet Sauvignon Cask will. Every Longrow Red release spends some of its formative years in a red wine cask, similar to the recently emptied Springbank Burgundy. For this release it spent the first seven years in ex-Bourbon barrels and the last four in a Cabernet Sauvignon cask.

To cap it all off the Red is bottled at Cask Strength clocking in at a whopping 104 proof meaning none of those big flavors are lost.

NOSE: Assertive smoke, raspberry, cherry,
PALETE: Leather, sea salt, smoke, darker fruit, blackberry, a touch of sweetness and a strong tannic backbone
FINISH: Long and dry yet juicy. Reminiscent of sea air with those red fruits returning.

This is a complex little dram. There’s a beautiful salinity that provides the throughline for Longrow while the tannin and the fruit lent from the Cabernet Sauvignon cask shines through at almost every level without being overwhelming. Surprisingly, I actually enjoy this one with a little water in it. The high proof gets in the way of some of the more delicate flavors that I really enjoyed in the Springbank Burgundy that are also present here.

All in all, this bottle actually feels like a perfect quarantine metaphor: subtle yet aggressive, complex yet needing a bit of hydration, and packing a hell of a punch.

Whiskey Wednesday: Hitting Johnnie Green’s Stride

Johnnie Walker is a striding behemoth, straddling the world as the number one selling Scotch whisky brand. It’s so popular that “What makes Johnnie Walker Blue the best?” is a Google search autocomplete. It’s so popular that due to knockoffs and literal bootlegs there are more bottles of Johnnie Walker Black Label sold in India every year than are actually produced for the entire world.

            With this level of popularity the level of disdain and outright backlash for Johnnie Walker that abounds is almost inevitable. Something so popular could never actually be good. Yet, amongst its vast palette of labels there abides a quality and constancy that’s earned its place on back bars across the globe. It also contains one of my all time favorite colors and bottles: Green.

            Johnnie Walker, the Scotch Whisky, began its long walk in the 1819 when the father of John Walker, the actual Scotsman, died. The family sold their farm and invested in a grocery in Kilmarnock, Scotland in 1820. Grocery stores were a different breed in the 1800’s and many grocers would make their own house blends of whisky. This became much more prominent after the Excise Act of 1823 deregulated many of the laws on the distillation of whisky and more importantly greatly reduced the taxes on distilling and selling. In short order the teetotaling John Walker was selling his own blended malt whisky called Walker’s Kilmarnock Whisky. John passed away in 1857 leaving the company to his son Alexander Walker who would usher in the beginnings of the company’s global dominance.

This rise in popularity began with another act completely outside of Alexander’s control, the Spirit Act of 1860. For the first time it was now legal to blend malt and grain whiskies together, thus creating the blended whisky style that is the core of Johnnie Walker, as well as the vast majority of worldwide Scotch sales.

Alexander also took advantage of the newly arrived railroad to make connections with shipping captains to create a larger distribution network. This expanded shipping reach combined with a more approachable, lighter style of Scotch whisky literally made inroads with new drinkers.

            The increase in global shipping also led to the development of the iconic square bottle in 1860. The square shape allowed more bottles to fit in the standard shipping containers as well as greatly reduced breakage during transit. Alexander was also responsible for tilting the label at its jaunty angle across the bottle allowing for larger print as well as making the bottle more recognizable from a distance.

            It was the Third Generation of Walkers that added the final touch with a rebranding in 1909 that first saw the “Striding Man” added to the labels. They also had the companies three blended whiskies officially renamed to White Label, Red Label, and Black Label. The White Label was dropped during World War I but the Red and Black remain the core of Johnnie Walker to this day.

            With demand for Johnnie Walker Scotch spread across 120 countries the company began purchasing single malt distilleries to ensure  consistent supply and blends.  Beginning with Cardhu in 1893, they followed it up with the Coleburn Distillery, The Clynish Distillery and Talisker, before capping it off with the legendary Mortlach Distillery in 1923. Then in 1925 the company joined Distiller’s Company, which was purchased by Guinness in 1986, which then merged with Grand Metropolitan in 1997 to form Diageo, the largest liquor conglomerate in the world. 1997 is also an important year because it marks the reintroduction of Blended Malt Whisky to the Johnnie line up. Originally called Johnnie Walker Pure Malt my favorite bottle received its chromatic designation as Green Label in 2004.

            In a lot of ways the Green Label is a return to that very first John Walker blend. Being a blended malt it is comprised of completely single malt whiskies, which means none of the grain whisky that Alexander introduced and the helped spread the brand across the globe. Diageo is vague on the specific details, listing it as a blend of malts from the Speyside, Highland, Lowland, and Scottish Isle malts which is essentially saying it’s made up of Scotch from Scotland. But digging deeper you can find the names Cragganmore, Linkwood, Caol Ila and Talisker as the primary malts. It also carries a 15 year age statement, meaning the minimum age of every malt in the blend is at least 15 years old, making it one of the oldest constantly available Johnnie Walker blends.

            In a lot of ways this blend is at the root of Johnnie Walker’s history which is why it’s so surprising to me that it’s always felt like the redheaded stepchild of the family. It was “discontinued” in the Western markets around 2012 with plans to focus the brand in Asia. A massive shift in Chinese regulations brought the brand back globally in 2016. Yet it is still often passed over, ironically, because it isn’t as ubiquitous as the Black and Blue.

            Or maybe it’s a victim of Johnnie’s success. The sun never sets on the empire of Johnnie Walker yet it is an empire built on that addition of grain whisky to its single malt base. It’s a lighter style with more mellow flavor and the Green is rich and almost overly opulent in comparison. Someone who enjoys Black label might not find the Green to be their cup of tea. On the flip side the type of drinker that would truly love an aged-stated, blended malt is probably also the kind to turn up their noses at the mere mention of Johnnie’s name.

            Or maybe it’s that people still don’t truly understand what a blended malt is. It’s a misunderstood style just like Green Label is a misunderstood bottle. But the fact that it is so misunderstood and overlooked just makes it all the more endearing to me. I’ll gladly quaff a dram when I can find it.

NOSE: A light touch of seaside smoke, vanilla, dry oak and baking spices

PALETTE: Decadent and rich. Raisins, dried plums with a touch of that seaside air and a whiff of sherry. Slightly nutty, with a bright mid palette.

FINISH: A relatively quick, clean finish that leaves a lighter impression that the rest of the experience. It ends with lingering oaky sweetness mixed with a hint of smoke.

Whiskey Wednesday: The Darkest (Bowmore) Timeline

Remember when the regions of Scotland were a thing?  Highlands, Lowlands, Islands, Campbelltown, Speyside, and Islay? For years brand ambassadors and whisky makers preached the golden gospel of the distinct styles of the six regions of Scotland.

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The first problem a lot of people see with this list is that three of the regions are technically just small regions of the other three. Speyside is part of the Highlands, Campbelltown is part of the Lowlands, and Islay is very much an Island. If these three places can have their own unique style why can’t the plot of land down the road have its own style? The truth of the matter is that style is more about the distiller and blender than anything to do with the arbitrary geographical location.

Let’s look at Islay, quite possibly the most distinct and memorable Scotch style. The mere mention of the word Islay causes people’s tastes buds to shiver at the onslaught of peat, smoke, and saltiness of the most famously peated Scotch’s in the world. Yet many of the whiskies coming off the island are completely unpeated. Bunnahabhin is very famously unpeated. Everything coming out of the Bruichladdich distillery that is bottled as “Bruichladdich” is currently unpeated. They have to save up all that smoke for the Octomore. Even amongst the “peat bombs” there is a massive variety of style for such a tiny island.

Lagavulin is like a misty, damp marshland while Laphroig is like a dusty campfire and The Octomore is like smoke gently resting on the briny salt air. And then somewhere in the middle of all this is Bowmore.

Founded in 1779 the Bowmore distillery has been in continual operation except for a brief pause in the World War II to host the RAF Costal Command. It’s never risen to the same height of fame as say, a Laphroig, but they consistently put out great whiskey that seems to walk the line between the styles and practices other distilleries are doing with more flash.

They’re sourcing a good portion of their barley from Islay, similar to Bruichladdich, and they’re giving a the whisky a healthy dose of peat, just like the island island is known for, but they’re also throwing in a fair amount of Sherry barrel aging which is more commonly associated with those Speyside malts on the other side of the country. The Bowmore 15 “The Darkest” hits all these notes perfectly.

It is a 15 year old single malt aged in ex-Bourbon and Sherry barrels for 12 years. The malt is then married together for three years in Olorosso sherry cask that imparts a deep color and melds a gentle smoke together with raisins, dried cherry, and stone fruit with a touch of saltiness and a note of bitter chocolate on the finish. It’s a bottle that can be enjoyed by lovers of peat and lovers of Sherry. Or by lover of Islay or lovers of Speyside malts.

We like easy boxes and categories to help define what we like and don’t like. But just like any complex creation style isn’t about where you come from. It’s about what you make of yourself.

Whiskey Wednesday: Islay Barley

When you think of whisky and what gives it it’s flavor what springs to mind? Is it the mashbill, the barrel type, the aging location and length? Chances are good terrior didn’t spring to mind but the team at Bruichladdich would like to change that.

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Bruichladdich is a distillery that blends history and modernity. Founded in 1881 the distillery was, at the time, the most modern distillery on the island of Islay. It wafted in and out of popularity until the distillery was mothballed in 1994 for being “surplus to requirements.” It gained new life in 2000 when it was purchased by a group of private investors who dismantled and revamped the entire distillery once again making it one of the most modern distilleries on the island. They also brought with them a lot of experience in the wine world including a deep reverence for terrior, a reverence that has survived the distilleries sale to Remy Cointreau.. They also made two great decisions in their early days 1) hiring the legend Jim McEwan to be their master distiller and 2) deciding to actually grow barley on the island of Islay.

Scotch does not require the barley to be Scotch. To be Scotch that barley needs be distilled in Scotland not grown there. This is very reflective of the mentality that terrior doesn’t matter in whiskey. It’s not that distillers don’t care about the quality of the barley but rather that with so many other factors effecting the final product the terrior was way down the scale of importance, especially once the economics of scale set in.         download-1.jpg

The early days of whisky making were a local affair. A farmer had excess crops, they distilled them to preserve the grain, and sometimes managed to sell some of the spirit for extra profit. Many of these farm distilleries were successful enough to grow into commercial affairs but most did not survive the true industrialization of the spirit industry in the early 19th century. This was when improvements in technology and more interconnected trade allowed whisky making to become a large scale, commercial endeavor.

While there is some evidence that there was barley being grown on Islay before this time the advent of these large distilleries made in commercially unviable. These new distilleries were also all on the coast where they had their own piers or shallows where a flat-bottomed boat could dock. This made it more economic for these distilleries to import cheap grain from the mainland and export whisky.

As these distilleries continued to grow they also out grew the ability of the island to grow enough barley for them. There just simply isn’t enough land to supply all the barley these industrial distilleries need, so the farmers stopped growing the barley and turned to more economically advantageous pursuits.

Bruichladdich changed all of this in 2004 when they partnered with a local farmer named Raymond Stewart at Kentraw Farm on Richard Macaeire’s Foreland Estate on the Rhines. Raymond grew barley and Bruichladdich distilled it. The first release of the Bruichladdich Islay Barley was released in 2010. Each release is dated with the year of the barley’s harvest and labeled with which farm it called home.

Some of these releases have been stunners, the 2007 Rockside Farm is something I wish I’d squirreled away a few bottles of, but growing barley on the island of Islay is extremely finicky. The 2009 and 2010 releases of Islay Barley were blends of several farms. Still distinctly labeled but you can’t help but feel that the strong idea of terrior is running into the old problem of supply.

This blend of farms may be a temporary hiccup as the Islay Barley series has expanded. Bruichladdich divides its products into three core lines: Bruichladdich (unpeated whiskey), Port Charlotte (heavily peated whisky), and the Octomore (experimental, cask strength, super heavily peated whisky). The Port Charlotte is also utilizing a blend of farms but the Octomore is not. But then again the Octomore has always been a unique case with all of its barley coming from the farm of Octomore a mere 2 miles from the distillery.

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In the end, these are whiskies that are still evolving. Not just with different bottlings from year to year but also in terms of the process of making the whisky. And they are hit or miss. Barring the previously mentioned Rock Hill Farm the Bruichladdich Islay Barley releases have been interesting at least but the Port Charlotte’s have always fallen flat for me. I’m inclined to think that it’s because of the peat adding one more layer of obfuscation between the original barley and the finished whisky. The Octomore Islay barley however is a stunning beauty of a whisky with a layered elegance and subtle floral quality the belies its status as a cask strength monster and is one of the most heavily peated whiskies in the world.

Bruichladdich is the first Scottish distillery to put such a laser sharp focus on the terrior. They are experimenting and finding new boundaries inside of one of the most heavily defined spirits in the world and for that they should be applauded. Whether this experiment continues to grow and leave its own terrior on the whisky world or if it succumbs to the economics of industrial scale production has yet to be seen.

 

Whiskey Wednesday: The Chivas Brothers

Some things seem so ubiquitous, so omnipresent that they become nearly invisible. All of the work, all of the marketing, but most importantly all of the quality that must be present to get them to that pervasive point becomes overlooked and it all just fades into the background. That had been my experience of Chivas Regal until recently.

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No matter how much we preach the gospel of Single Malt Scotch, Blended Whisky is the true king. And if Johnny Walker sits upon the Iron Throne, Chivas Brothers is the King in the North. With the now iconic 12 year blend the market leader in Europe and Asia and over 4.4 million cases of Chivas Regal shipped world wide it’s easy to see how Chivas can be lost in the whisky sea. When everyone is clamoring for the rarest, the newest and the most unique bottlings how could something that sits on nearly every back bar in the world be anything special?

However the history of the brand shows one of evolution, experimentation, massive growth and success.

Chivas traces its roots all the way back to 1801 and small grocery store started by John Forrest in the town of Aberdeen. The Chivas family first became involved in 1836 with James Chivas joining the growing company and by the 1850’s they had responded to demand for luxury whiskey and were bottling their first blends under the name Royal Glen Dee.

Chivas Regal first found a home and an identity in the United States in 1909 with the launch of Chivas Regal 25 year old. The blend became the world’s first true luxury blended whiskey and it was an immediate hit with the New York high society. The brand rode high for several years until WW1 which limited shipping and then the disaster that was Prohibition struck. Almost more devastating to the brand than these events was the selling of the company and offloading its massive whisky stocks, in 1936.

When Chivas Regal was relaunched in the US in 1939 it was introduced as a 12 Year old in an attempt to preserve stocks. The company was then sold again, this time to Seagram’s in 1949. The next year Seagram’s purchased the Milton distillery, renamed Strathisla, which remains the primary malt and spiritual home of Chivas to this day.

Seagram’s took over the Glenlivet Group in 1977 and when Seagram’s went under in 2001 Chivas and the Glenlivet were purchased by Pernod Ricard which consolidated all of their whisky interests, including the Aberlour distillery that was already in their portfolio, under the Chivas Brother’s banner.

The brand has massive stocks to draw on and throughout it’s history hasn’t shied away from experimentation and innovation. For instance, The Royal Salute line was introduced in 1953 to celebrate the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II and is the only line of blended Scotch whiskey that starts at 21 years of age. I’ve been fortunate enough to have the 38 Year Old ‘Stone of Destiny’, named after the legendary coronation stone of the Scottish Kings. It’s full of dark chocolate, dried fruit and a rich finish that rivals many of the high end malts that I’ve had.

IMG_4029.JPG     On a more approachable scale they’ve started producing the Chivas Regal Extra, a Non Age Statement blend designed to recreate the flavors of the original Chivas Regal 25 Year Blend that relies heavily on Olorosso Sherry aging. Then there is the new Mizunara.

The Mizunara is a 12 Year Old blend, but not THE Chivas 12 Year blend, that is finished in Japanese Mizunara Oak. It’s currently a Japanese exclusive but the Chivas Brothers have plans to take it to the global market. Think about that for a moment. Mizunara is some of the most sought after wood in the world right now and Chivas has enough clout and influence to be able to age enough whisky in mizunara casks that their biggest problem with getting into the United States is the difference in bottle sizes between the US and the rest of the world. With all this innovation and history why does it seem to fade into the background of the whiskey drinking consciousness?

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In a way I think their own history is getting in their way. The whiskey nerds and “trend setters” are all fighting to battle for transparency and in depth disclosure of aging and blend components. Just look at John Glasser and how often Compass Box is chastised for disclosing too much information. Finding information on what actually goes into a bottle of Chivas Regal is impossibly frustrating. And while this lack of information might keep that bottle of Chivas from standing out in an increasingly crowded forest, but it doesn’t stop the liquid in the bottle from being of a quality and taste that has earned its iconic place on that back bar.

Whiskey Wednesday: Changing A Pig’s Nose

Consolidation is the name of the game. Every week there is another story of a small or independent distillery being purchased by a bigger player. Most recently Bacardi purchased a minority stake in Teeling Irish Whiskey, Diageo paid nearly a billion dollars for George Clooney’s Casa Migos Tequila, and Pernod Ricard got into the mescal game with Del Maguey. No matter who the players are it always means some sort of change.

It’s not just a story of international conglomerates snapping up fast rising names either. Look at the recent merger of Spencerfield Spirits and Ian Macleod Distillers. Spencerfield was the brain child of Alex Nicol, the former marketing director of Glenmorangie. The company was built on solid, old school blended whiskey labels, like Sheep Dip and Pig’s Nose. They’ve been having explosive success with its Edinburgh Gins, which have become the #1 craft gin in all of Scotland. Alex had close ties with Ian Macleod, the makers of Tamdhu and Glengoyne, sourcing much of the whiskey for the Pig’s Nose and Sheep Dip blends and using their bottling facilities for their brands. As Spencerfield grew a more formal partnership seemed inevitable.

Compared to the massive deals mentioned above this merger is still a small player but it’s a great case study in what this kind of deals can yield. The Spencerfield Brands gain more direct, consistent access to primary ingredients for their brands, while also gaining access to a larger distribution and marketing network. Ian Macleod then expects the brands to continue to show an increase in performance to justify the money spent bringing them into the fold. And that means increased sales. Which means grabbing the attention of new consumers. Which means change.

The most dramatic example is Pig’s Nose. The brand was originally started in the 1970’s but was revitalized by Alex Nicol and is proof that good whiskey doesn’t need to be expensive, or carry a massive age statement. It just has to be made with care. Bottled at 80 proof and made up of a blend of 40% single malts to 60% grain whiskey, the Pig’s Nose has a massively high malt content for a “non-craft” blended whiskey. It’s name comes from the whiskey being “as soft as a pig’s nose” and is a great workhorse (or work pig) in the bar world. The whiskey has a subtle fruitiness that lends a extra layer onto the malty, butterscotch middle while the whole dram remains round and soft. It’s a great cocktail backbone while still enjoyable on its own. And on top of that it was always affordable. It’s a phenomenal sleeper, an unassumingly delightful whiskey.

However, its biggest struggle has always been that it is unassuming. The packagingimages.jpg reflected the nature of the whiskey with a mellow, retro 70’s design. Simple. Clean, but not terribly exiting. And that’s where the change is happening to Pig’s Nose. The packaging is being aggressively overhauled to turn a few more heads. Nothing inside the bottle is changing, but with new liter bottles and a label that still looks classic yet undeniably more hip. It may seem like a small change but it is one that will get people to look past the outside to actually try the whiskey on the inside and ends up being the first label change in a long time that I actually enjoy.

These small changes happen with every brand purchase and merger. What the change is varies from brand to brand and company to company but over time they accumulate, slowly altering the brand until it’s no longer what it was. Sometimes, like with Pig’s Nose, it’s a positive face lift. Other times, it’s a slow loss of quality, or of personality that leads to the brands identity completely shifting. It’s an ever evolving world of spirits but by watching these changes we can see where to throw support and where to abandon ship because they tides they are always a’ changin’.

 

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Whiskey Wednesday: A’bunadh, Aberlour A’bunadh

Bigger is always better right? Just like the old fashioned way is the best way. Or at least that’s what Aberlour has been banking on the past two decades with their A’bunadh releases.

Despite a history stretching back nearly 140 years Aberlour still feels relatively unknown to the wider world. The distillery was founded in 1879 by James Fleming who built an extremely modern distillery for the time powered by a waterwheel driven by the Lour river . Aberlour literally means “the mouth of the chattering burn” and was supposedly named for the ancient Druids belief that the river actually spoke to them. The water for the distillery is drawn from St. Drostan’s Well, which only adds to the mythic nature of the Aberlour’s waters as the well is named after the 6th century Columbian Monk who supposedly used it as a baptismal site. So, like many Scotch distilleries there is a lot of history, myth, and legend involved.

James Fleming operated the distillery until his death 1895 and then the distillery changed hands over the years, being acquired by S. Campbell & Sons in 1945, before being sold to Pernod Ricard in 1974, who updated and expanded the distillery the following year, finally merging  the former Campbell Distilleries with the Chivas Brothers in 2001.

Aberlour is quintessentially Speyside in style and is double cask matured. Unlike the more well known Balvenie line, the Aberlour line isn’t finished in a second style of oak. Instead, the malt is fully matured in ex-bourbon or Olorosso Sherry barrels and once they are finished aging these different barrel styles are batched together. The proportion varies depending on the interation. The 12 Year is 75% Ex-Bourbon, the 16 year is 50/50, and the A’bunadh is 100% Sherry. And while the general line up of Aberlour might be less known the A’bunadh definitely has a cult following. Though it was first released in 2000 the A’bunadh story actually begins with that distillery expansion brought on by their purchase by Pernod Ricard in 1975.

During construction some workers stumbled upon some an 1898 newspaper with a story about the distillery fire that year, wrapped around a bottle of Aberlour from 1898. The workers who discovered the bottle finished off most of the bottle before guilt kicked in and they turned the bottle over to the master distiller, who immediately sent the remainder off to the laboratory for analysis. The A’bunadh is an attempt to recreate the whiskey in that bottle.

“A’bunadh” means “the original” in Gaelicand if the above story is to be believed this is the style of malt the distillery was making before it’s catastrophic fire in the late 1900s. There is no age statement, each batch is blended together from malts ranging from 5 – 25 years old, is non chill filtered, and bottled at cask strength. It is 100% Olorosso Sherry barrel aged and though there is no age statement , each batch is uniquely numbered allowing whiskey connoisseurs, otherwise known as nerds, to easily track the “best” batches.

2017 saw the release of Batch 58 but I’ve still got a few bottles of the 57 hanging around and it lives up to its predecessors. There is a massive amount of all spice and caramelized orange on the nose. There is a massive amount of that Sherry sweetness, melded with orange, dark fruit, a little bitter chocolate and heavy malt. The finish is long and sustained and with Batch 57 coming in at solid 11.42 proof the mouth is left dry and clean afterwards.

Whether or not the A’bunadh actually is like the original malt distilled at Aberlour is rather irrelevant at this point. It has certainly earned its place in the Single Malt hierarchy and deserves a little more love from those of us not constantly dreaming about our next dram.

Whiskey Wednesday: The Experiential Exceptionals

I’m told my generation, (I refuse to say ‘Millennial’) values experience over material possessions. That a memory formed, or an adventure had is more important than the shiny new car. My intense desire for a Tesla would be my argument to that hypothesis but this experiential mentality is appealing and you can see it leaking into almost everything, including booze. There is definitely a trend towards one off releases and in the scotch world more small producers are creating blends not with the idea of creating decades long consistency but of constantly evolving smaller bottlings, aiming for consistent quality if not consistent flavor.

In the scotch world more small producers are creating blends not with the idea of creating decades long consistency but of constantly evolving smaller bottlings, aiming for consistent quality not consistent flavor.

Don Sutcliffe, of Sutcliffe and Sons, along with Willie Phillips, the former managing director of The Macallan, created The Exceptional Whiskies with this experiential philosophy at the forefront of mind. They say it outright. They’re not looking to create year-in, year-out consistency. They want each edition to be ‘individual’, ‘distinct’ and ‘memorable’. Since 2013 they’ve released 2 editions of the blended grain and their blended malt, and now they’ve got the first edition of their own blended scotch to add to the line up.

It follows in the same philosophical vein and draws on decades of experience and relationships. It takes grain whiskies from North British, Strathclyde and a 33 year old Cameron Bridge and blends them with single malts from seemingly all of Speyside including: Glenfarclas, Ben Nevis, Balvenie, Kininvie, Glen ddich, Alt- a’Bhainne, Auchroisk, Glenallachie,Westport, Speyside and a splash of 30 year old Macallan. Then all of that is finished in first fill Olorosso Sherry barrels. The result is fruity, rich, very light up front, with a honeycomb sweetness and a definite herbal nose.
So what’s the result? It’s good whisky. But is it any more than that?

Exceptional.jpgThe cynic in me wants to say that the whole ‘unique experience’ is marketing talk for ‘we can’t get the ingredients to make this anymore.’ That it’s just another way to cash in on the whiskey boom. But looking at how long Don and Willie have been doing this it looks more like to men tired of doing the same thing day in and day out. It has the feel of wanting to find something new, to experience and share it. So what does the millennial in me say? That it’s not a generational thing. That it’s just a human thing.

A Balvenie Burns Night

Welcome to Burns Night. The annual celebration of the life and death of Robert Burns, the National Bard of Scotland and has an almost cult like following as a cultural folk hero. Not a bad legacy for a man born a poor Scottish farmer and who only lived to the age of 37.

Burns was born in 1759 and wrote his first poem after falling in love at the age of 15. He and I imgres-1.jpghave that in common. But unlike myself Burns pursued poetry, and love, with uncommon zeal. The first collection of his poems was published by subscription in 1786. While writing most of these poems in 1785 he also fathered the first of his 14 children. He was a busy man. As his biographer DeLancey Ferguson said of him, “it was not so much that he was conspicuously sinful as that he sinned conspicuously.”

Burns was immediately lauded through out England and Scotland as a “peasant-poet” and he took that success and used it to celebrate and preserve Scottish culture. Most of his poems are all written in Scots and document traditional Scottish culture. He also preserved folk songs. You can blame ol’ Rabbie Burns for why you know the words to “Auld Lange Syne” even if you don’t know the meaning. The song, which is about remembering friends from the past and not letting those times be forgotten actually has nothing to do with the holidays but is a perfect example Burns’ work. He celebrated life, love, friendship and drink all with humor and sympathy. His legacy is writ all over Scottish culture. Bobby Burns is as distinctly Scottish as the countries whisky.

mMcg5wXN6S-SFgDpBbkWkRQ.jpg            Ninety years later, on the opposite side of Scotland, another farmer was setting out to form his own legacy in a distinctly Scottish way: by quitting his job. William Grant had just quit his job as a bookkeeper at the Mortlach Distillery and purchased the land and equipment to start his own distillery. On Christmas day in 1887 the first whisky flowed from the still of the Glenfiddich distillery. Glenfiddich essentially created the Single Malt category in the 60’s and 70’s, often using ads that created a cult of personality of around the whisky and that of Sandy Grant Gordon, William’s great grandson. The company has always been incredibly savvy and it’s no wonder that they are the number one selling single malt in the world.

But when you are that large its hard to say that you truly have a cult following. That status today falls to Glenfiddich’s younger distillery sibling, Balvenie. Founded by William Grant a mere five years after Glenfiddich, Balvenie has always been the more experimental of the children. Balvenie is still 100% traditionally floor malted, and just like Glenfiddich they still have a Coppersmith and Coopers on site on site to keep the whole process in house. But I know people who would never touch a bottle of Glenfiddich perk right up at the mere mention of Balvenie, especially if we’re talking about the 14 year old Caribbean Cask.

The Caribbean Cask is a 14 year old single malt that has been aged in traditional oak casks, primarily ex-Bourbon, and then finished in casks that once held Caribbean Rum. These rum casks are American Oak casks that have been filled with a blend of West Indian Rums crafted by Malt Master David Stewart. Once Stewart deems the casks to be correctly seasoned the rum is dumped and the 14 year old malt whisky is added to receive its finishing touches. How long exactly is a “finish’? Well, until it’s finished, but generally about 6 months.

The result is a whisky that is massively vanilla and oaky with an evolving fruitiness and just an edge of the hobo funk that you find in truly great rums. It is flavorful without being overpowering and adds a sweetness that livens up that heavy malt that turns many people off of Scotch whisky. This whisky feels right at home in that ultimate of Burns Night celebrations: the Burns Supper.

Burns Suppers range from strenuously formal gatherings of esthetes and scholars to uproariously informal rave-ups of drunkards and louts. I’ll give you one guess as to which category I fall into. Most end up right in the middle and will follow the time honored form which includes the eating of a traditional Scottish meal, the drinking of Scotch whisky, the Toast to the Lassies, the responding Toast to the Laddies, and the recitation of works by, about, and in the spirit of the Burns.

Tonight I will be providing you with the whisky, but my brother will be providing you with the poetry. I don’t know if he wrote his first poem after a lovelorn night at the tender age of 15, but he certainly pens a verse worthy of raising a glass:

For Wintergreen Gorge

Once, illegally, on a train track bridge,

We sat with a handle a whiskey and three

Water bottles a gin, and I watched a gall midge

Land on your cheek and watched you brush it free

with your hand. Now what’s the use in holding

When we can sip and we can sit with our

Laughter and the iron and the wood to

Water sinking? Your hands get lost in folding,

Smoothing, and re-creasing the small flower

On the hem of your dress, and then you lower

Your eyes to wonder what we could do.

~Jacob Fournier

 

Give Me More of that Octomore

Maybe it’s like becoming one with the cigar. You lose yourself in it; everything fades away: your worries, your problems, your thoughts. They fade into the smoke, and the cigar and you are at peace.
Raul Julia

Smoke is indelibly linked to water for me. Years of camping with my family have sealed the sound of the waves in the night with the scent of smoke hanging in the air. The Octomore encapsulates that in the deep black of its bottle; the fact that it’s massively over proof really helps out right about now.

Bruichladdich_Logo.png The Octomore line sails in from the shores of Islay and the Bruichladdich distillery. Bruichladdich is old history with a new face with that spirit of this spirit running right back to its earliest days. When the distillery was founded in 1881 it was the height of modernity. A state of the art facility, especially when compared the distilleries on Islay at the time which were often just converted farm houses. Built right on the shore with uniquely tall and narrow necked stills the distillery managed to survive when many others failed. At least until 1994 when it was mothballed for being ‘surplus to requirements’.

But it was resurrected in 2000 when a group of private investors purchased the distillery, dismantled and reassembled the whole shebang. Having missed out on all the modernization in the 90’s the original machinery was still in place making it one of the few distilleries to have no computers in use for production.

The new owners did make two major changes though. 1) They turned their focus to the province of their barley. They wanted the local character of the barley to shine through as much as the barrel and aging. They shifted to using all Scottish barley, something somewhat surprisingly not required for Scotch, and started growing barley on the actual island of Islay. All of their whiskies now have both a Scottish and Islay barley version with their own DNA. 2) They hired Jim McEwen as their Master Distiller.

Jim McEwen is a whisky legend. He started working at Bowmore when he was 15 and Islay Whisky may as well literally run in his veins. He ran the stills with skill but he also started producing peated whiskey for the traditionally unpeated Bruchladdich. These peated whiskies have become the Port Charlotte line up, and in it’s super peated forms the Octomores.

url.jpg The Octomores are some of the most heavily peated whiskies in the world. Their phenol content (the scientific way to measure peat) have been as high as 238 but even in their “standard” range they are three times as peated as a Laphroig. Yet, even with all this smoke, and being bottled at cask strength, they avoid being one dimensional. They are sea salt air tinged with smoke and a threat of rain in the air once the sun has set while I’m reading by the fire.

With the distillery now owned by Remy Cointreau and Jim McEwen no longer at the helm though it’ll be interesting to see where that leaves the Octomores as the years, and the memories, roll on