What Happened Back Then?

Hi Everybody,

One of the most incredible aspects of the trade of wine and spirits it the history.  Of course, we know that Jefferson liked Hermitage, and Pepys loved Haut-Brion.  Shackleton had his legendary whisky to warm him to the south pole and Bonnie Prince Charlie invented Drambuie (for better or worse).  As the great boozy catalogue of history goes back in time we find bottles of wine and whisky that have become iconic despite their humble origins.

For instance, what was so auspicious about the distillation at Mortlach distillery on the 26th day of January 1957, that it has come down to this day so that I see what has become of it?  Probably nothing, to be perfectly fair.  In fact this is not the only Mortlach from the 1950's I've tasted, nor is it the oldest.  Basically it is a forgotten sherry cask from a distillery that produces a huge volume of whisky and consequently the result is a large amount of old, backlogged stock that can be bottled at an exceptionally old age.

But what does such old whisky taste like?  When I first put my nose in the glass I was reminded of my first visit to a 50-year-old Mortlach and was greeted by an intense wave of fiery booze.  Hugely alcoholic with hidden aromas of shoe polish, wood sealant and lemsip.  A bit of dry fruit found it's way through, but the 50 year contact with what I imagine was first-fill Oloroso left a hot, sticky mess of a whisky.

Unfortunately the 1953 distillation was not far removed from this effort.  It smelled of alcohol, almost as grainy as Glen's vodka and the flavour was dry and tannic, almost like a freshly cut sapling cured in pure ethanol.  In essence; unpleasant.

So why do bottles of whisky that are so old retain such a reputation for quality?  My thinking is that not enough people have tasted and criticised them.  I recall one day early in my career as a wine and whisky merchant selling a bottle of Mortlach 1936 (70 y-o) for £21,000 alongside a Glenfarclas 50 for £3,000 and a MacAllan 1940 for £2,000 all in one transaction to one collector.  All I can think is thank goodness someone bought it, and hopefully he will enjoy the way it looks on his mantlepiece as he tells his friend how much he paid for it all; because it sure as hell isn't going to taste very good!

I know I contradict myself when it comes to old whisky, because some of the best whisky I've ever had has been quite old (Brora 36, I'm talking about you!) but then again, it doesn't take an absurd age statement to be exceptional.  The youngest and sometimes cheapest in the lineup, Laphroaig Quarter Cask is far superior to the rest of the Laphraoig range (Up to the 25, after which I cannot say).  Likewise I prefer the 15 year-old offering from GlenDronach to the 18 though both are lovely.

But when you find a whisky that is exceptional just fo it's sheer age, it may well be that it was unremarkable for so long that the cask-manager thought they may as well leave it until they could sell it as a budget end 50 year old.  Because older is considered better for whisky, the market responds and the bottles are more expensive.  Consider this; Ardbeg Uigeadail is somewhere between 5 and 9 years old (technically) and it is consistently ranked as the best or among the best whiskies in the world.

There is a skewed sense of logic in the world of whisky and it is up to us, the dirnkers and the lovers of malt to seek out the gems.  I say we allow these ridiculously overpriced, overaged monstrosities to go up in price while we happily enjoy the balanced flavours of appropriately aged whiskies and live within the realms of reality.

Slainte Mhath,
G

Breaking Bad (preconceptions)- Bourbon

Hey Everyone,

It has been four years since I moved to Scotland, and therefore, nearly all of my experience with any sort of alcoholic beverage has been influenced by this tiny country with a highly disproportional influence on the drinks business. Living here, I have had much more contact with Traquhair House beers than Budweiser (which I do not lament) and have understandably given much more thought and attention to Whisky here rather than international variants. I've had my share of J.D. and wasn't impressed. I've tried a few bourbons here and there and at best found them not particularly interesting but pleasant, and at worst to be sickly sweet, boozy abominations which can fill no other purpose than to make Coke alcoholic without any noticeable change to the soft drink's flavour.

Today, however I am attending a tasting of the portfolio offered by the respectable distiller Buffalo Trace which includes a bit of a biographical experience, as it includes some of their 'White Dog' which, in Scotch-speak is basically new make, and in America would be considered more or less Moonshine. I have tried several such spirits, including new make from Balvenie, Ardbeg, Glenglassaugh and Bruichladdich and have found them often to be unpleasant, but a recognisable forerunner to the aged spirit years down the line. FOr a run down of my tasting notes, for the individual whiskies, have a look here.

Anyways, Jim Murray, the guy who puts out the Whisky Bible each year and makes tremendously sweeping statements about whisky, which can only be explained by a very specific and difficult to understand set of tastes, freaking loves this stuff. I don't really know what has made him fall so in love with American Rye whiskey, as he consistently gives rye and bourbon very generous scores, whereas single malts from Scotland draw more stringent criticisms. My only reasoning is that he either doesn't see the point in criticising a nation of such one-dimensional whiskies, or he doesn't understand them.

Either way, my experience today revealed to me that while there is a pleasant and sweetly fragranced world of bourbon and rye whiskey out there which lends itself so spendidly to session drinking, contemplating the world, and cocktails, the whiskey itself does not take long to get your head around. Sure there are different aspects to the individual bottlings, and even some traits which can pass for a fleeting complexity, but the truth, in my eyes, is that all of these whiskies had an overriding flavour of woody vanilla, banana and booze, leading inevitably to an alcoholic, watery finish.

I am not saying I didn't enjoy these whiskies... I most certaily did, but I did not see any kind of weight or body which didn't rely on either wood or alcohol content. And while I liked the blender a lot and enjoyed his presentation, I don't believe that Buffalo Trace's whiskey is what the campaign says it is. If this is the best of American whiskey, then I don't think Scotland really needs to be concerned about it's position as the king of distillation.

By all means, enjoy some good bourbons, and definitely enjoy some Buffalo Trace, because for what it is, it is good. But I'm just not really convinced.

Much Love,

G

 

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Made by the Sea

Hey Everyone,

I was thinking today, that the very basic purpose of water is to maintain us in our pursuit of food.  As evolution has led us to find more elaborate combinations to the point where I can discuss whether or not Cabernet Franc from South Africa matches better with Lamb or Pork (as in this recent post) I have found that certain foods and indeed certain drinks just seem to work better with certain moments in our lives than others.  Theres nothing quite like an ice cream cone on a sunny day when you're feeling like being a kid for a bit.  Theres nothing like a  chocolate cake to make your birthday feel special and theres nothing like a nice glass of red wine by the fireside in the winter.

I love the idea of pairing an album of music with a glass of something which just plain works.  Imagine the mental satisfaction of that great album of complex sounds and tonal texture alongside a glass of complex flavours and layered intricacy.  It is a great feeling and the two sensations, of pleasures both musical and flavourful, coming together is really something to enjoy.

I can cite a few great parings.  Nearing perfection in pairing music and booze is a simple bottle of beer, may well be just a Sam Adams Boston Lager (or in my personal Pennsylvanian case, Yuengling Amber Lager) with "Blood on the Tracks" by Bob Dylan.  It's my favourite album by far.  I think it just feels great listening to it, with the weight of the musical talent from the local musicians Dylan had to get a hold of at the last minute and the raw lyrical beauty of Dylan, it all just works.  That considered, it is surprisingly simple, and I just love laying on a couch in silence listening to my dad's old pressing scratching away on the beautiful set-up he's put together in the attic.

I just love Bob Dylan and though he might not approve of a boozy drink with his music, I think he could at least appreciate the idea of pairing two significant things in ones life together like this.  For me, I love the craft of music.  It occupied most of my youth (there may still be a myspace page with my music up somewhere) and I am happy to say that it is still one of the most important things to me and I hold music very close to my heart indeed.  Put that next to the things in my professional interests today, in my early maturity, such as wine and beer, and I see that as the sum total of my passions and I think that is an idea that anyone can relate to.

Tonight however, I am making an interesting pairing.  I remember some very good friends of mine informing me of the magical and unlikely pairing of California Zinfandel and "Heatwave Doritos," and in a way tonight's pairing is similar but in the end, it does make sense.   I'm listening to a collection of songs by the Canadian musician Stan Rogers sipping a glass of my favourite whisky, Ardbeg "Uigeadail".  Sort of a Canadian Nick Drake, he died well before his time in a bizarre plane accident, he embodied the folk-voice of his country and may never truly get the credit he deserves outside of his genre-circle of musicians.

As the songs progress, they begin openly brazen and brisk and they are over all bold with his classic song Barrett's Privateers and the bright Watching the Apples Grow.  The whisky begins openly powerful and peaty with big smoky character to match the songs' strength.  With Barrett's Privateers, there is a hint of the old-school sea shanty which matches the maritime character of this malt as you can smell the sea spray, seaweed and the ropes of the rigging in the whisky.

It is brooding and stormy as well as deceptively balanced and matched with the haunting lament Maid on the Shore, which tells of the troubled life of a captain bound to the sea, fooled by a mysterious maid on the rocky shore.  The whisky develops as your nose gets used to the power and becomes sweet and subtle just as Stan's big baritone voice sings the heartbreaking ballad, Forty-Five Years and dedication of the long life he would never have to his beloved wife.

The finish is balanced and provides an encore for all the beauty of the malt which had previously taken the stage and the peat, smoke, tar and brown sugar take a final bow.   It all settles down beautifully into a balance, with Stan Rogers' requiem Northwest Passage, in which he considers his place in history giving his humble admirations to those brave adventurers in the great wilds of Canada's Northwestern Territories looking for the Passage, a way to solve the savage wild.  I do not believe anything created by man, even this beautiful dram of whisky, can match the natural bravery of the adventurous hearts which choose their destiny and gamble all on it as do the characters in the songs by this Canadian poet. But as I sit in my comfortable chair in my comfortable corner of Scotland in my comfortable place in the world, I can send my thoughts across the wide reaches of the world to those distant lands and those magnificent deeds of brave explorers.

I didn't expect the music to overwhelm me as it did.  I expected the whisky and the songs to match like rum and a couple of sea shanties, but it became so much more.  I sat down to have a dram of whisky with some folk songs and I have found my imagination drawn to places of amazing beauty and complexity.  Next time you have the chance to have a quiet evening in, try putting on an album you love and have a glass of something you love and see how it works together.  For me it was really very special.

Much Love,
G