MaltedMusings

Glengoyne distillery is one of my favourites, since the distillery is as pretty as the whisky is wonderful.  

It just earned a permanent place in my heart thanks to its brilliant new Malt Master experience, where you get to blend your very own Glengoyne single malt expression!

I went with a whisky club I help run and we had an absolute blast:

I'm sitting at the head of the table in the grey shirt.  Right motley bunch, ain't they?

The tour has you go round the distillery to see how Glengoyne make their whisky and our guides throughout the experience were fantastic, including singing to scare off ghosts!

The real focus of the Malt Master experience is on how wood influences the juice during the maturation process.  We got to see the changes between European and American oak, how sherry or bourbon influences flavour, and just what a difference refill (when you use the cask for Scotch a second or third time) makes:

From left "window" to right: American and European Refill; American bourbon; American sherry; and European sherry.  The European oak sherry casks looked almost opaque, the colour was so rich and deep!

The chance to play with 16 or 17 year old cask-strength Glengoynes from a variety of casks was the highlight of the day, and I'm not ashamed to say I was giddy at the thought!

That's a whole lotta whisky.  We had the choice of: refill mixed oak; 1st fill American oak bourbon; 1st fill American oak sherry; and two 1st fill European oak sherry casks.  The refill on its own was sublime and the American oak sherry cask had phenomenal spice to it, but you'd never spit any of them out!

Technically, master blenders probably shouldn't drink their samples as they go, relying instead on their finely honed sense of smell.  We embraced our amateur status and made sure our creations tasted as good as they looked and smelled!

Hand and whisky are blogger's own; everything else is Glengoyne.  In case you're wondering, that sample did not last 5 minutes from this photo being taken.

We all made very different single malts, and obviously all thought ours was the best.  I'm sure some are long gone while others, like mine, are jealously guarded for some impossible "perfect moment".

I like to think my own creation could hold a candle to this beauty on display in the shop.  Self-delusion is a powerful tool!

This was me at the almost-but-not-quite finished Lakes Distillery late last year.  They hosted a superb reception to show off the nearly finished site (certainly further on than the last time I was there) and chat to us about the future.  Look out for March Madness bottlings, their experimental range, using all kind of different woods and other quirks allowed to them by virtue of not being in Scotland!

Photo 1 is the low wines still awaiting its last bit of monitoring equipment.

Photo 2 is the copper and stainless steel condensers that will cool the vapours from the stills back to liquid.  Stainless steel is truly experimental and it'll be fascinating to see what it does to the spirit.

Photo 3 is Master Distiller, Chris Anderson, holding court as Distillery Manager, John Drake, realises he's left the gas on.

Photo 4 is a porthole fitted to a washback so you can see what's happening in the production process.  Most the vessels, from mash tun to stills, have these portholes, so expect plenty of nose prints as people peer inside!

A very happy new year to all you wonderful readers, commenters and sharers out there.  Lang may your lum reek!  That's a Scots saying that literally means long ("lang") may your chimney ("lum") smoke ("reek").  Basically, I hope you're prosperous and well enough to keep a fire burning. It doesn't update well to the age of central heating but the sentiment is heartfelt. 

It's been 2015 for nearly a fortnight so it's time to dust off the keyboard and do some writing!  Eagle-eyed readers (or even those in a turkey-induced stupor) will have noticed I didn't follow the unwritten rule of the festive season and recommend a Christmas or New Year dram.

That's because it's utter nonsense to label a whisky as particularly Christmassy or New Yeary.  The number of variables in what whisky I feel like in a given moment are so vast as to make recommending one for a specific moment all but impossible!  Go for what you feel like.  I had my eye on something big and bruising for the bells but in the moment realised I wanted something much more refined and subtle to welcome 2015.  It's all about matching the malt to the moment!  That applies 365 days this year and will apply for all 366 next year as well.

There's going to be some exciting stuff happening with MaltNerd this year and I'm looking forward to seeing where it all leads!  I'm also excited to see what the whisky world turns in to this year, after the NAS explosion of 2014.  Exciting times...

I was at the Glasgow Whisky Festival at the Arches on 15 November, a 4 hour event designed to test the limits of nearly every function in your body by means of colossal whisky intake.  It.  Was.  Brilliant.

The format will be familiar to anyone who’s been to any kind of organised drinks event before – companies set up at tables around the space and you wander among them, taking samples and chatting about the product.  Glasgow gets a decent turnout from the distilleries, although perhaps not the Rolls Royce experience I've seen some of the international festivals get.  Maybe we’re a tight fisted lot so it’s not worth it, or maybe we’ll buy it no matter how big the show they put on!  I also thought there weren't quite so many big names present as the last time I was there, and I’d also like to see a few more international whiskies, especially Japanese, since they seem to be so highly rated at the moment.  There was the slight sense of “here’s the usual suspects”.  I didn't enjoy myself less because of that, but a whisky festival that sells out so quickly has the potential to offer so much more!  It might be that the venue just can’t support anything bigger, in which case I’d say it was time to explore other venues.

It would be boring, tedious and probably wildly inaccurate if I was to list all the whiskies I sampled but the highlight for me was Wemyss Malts’ Velvet Fig blended malt.  I can’t do a detailed tasting note since it was the umpteenth sample of the day but I remember it being rich, smooth and bold.  It made me go “mmmmmmm”.  Even at a show with some rare and old whiskies, it was a clear winner.  If this is what Wemyss are capable of producing at a sensible price bracket, I'm even more excited by what they can achieve at the nearly-open Kingsbarns distillery, in Fife.

If you’re going to praise, you also have to be honestly critical: the low point of the whiskies I tasted was the Springbank 18.  I normally love just about anything Springbank do, and they have a refreshingly innovative attitude to their output as well, but this was a rubbery, sulphuric dram that should never have been bottled.  It was the only one I put in the dump bucket all day.  I didn't dare try anything else from them, for fear of the same disappointment.

I also (finally) got to taste the brash new kid on the whisky scene: Haig Club single grain, as promoted by David Beckham (which I think every whisky blogger is duty-bound to mention).  I made the point of having it first, as grains tend to be lighter than malts so it would be lost among the sherry monsters and smoke bombs.  It was light, sweet and indeterminably fruity, but not something I would ever take by choice again.  There was nothing actually wrong with it as a drink, it just didn't excite me.  I understand why it’s being promoted as a cocktail ingredient, since it has the same subtle affability for fruitier flavours as rum, but lacks real character of its own.  And I still think the bottle looks like a department store prop for aftershave.

I reviewed the The One blend last week and I now confess the timing was not 100% coincidental.  I was sort-of-invited/sort-of-invited-myself down to visit the Lakes Distillery earlier this week to see what they thought they were doing, distilling whisky in England of all places!  Whisky is Scottish!  Or Irish.  Alright, the Americans aren't bad at it either.  OK, the whole world is doing it and there's no reason whatsoever that an English whisky shouldn't be world class.  Paul Currie, the founder, was one of the founders of the excellent Arran distillery as well, so he’s got form in this game.

SMALL IS BEAUTIFUL

The first encouraging sign that all was going to be well was the surrounding countryside:

It's not a bad place to put a distillery.  And the whole area reminded me strongly of the highlands of Scotland, which means this distillery has a clean, plentiful water supply (from the Derwent, above) and lots of fantastic countryside to encourage visitors.  The distillery itself is on the site of a Victorian model farm and as much as possible of the original fabric and features have been incorporated into the complex.  It’s impressive and pretty and certainly rings true to their intent to respect the Lake District and its charms.

The second encouraging sign was the cheerful distillery manager who greeted me, John Drake.  John has worked with Aberfeldy and Aultmore distilleries before taking on the challenge of helping to build a distillery from the ground up in the Lake District.  And I do mean from the ground up:

Construction was still underway when I visited, with work continuing apace to finish the visitor centre parts of the complex and plumb in the tanks, stills and other apparatus that actually allow distillation to take place.  It was a stunning example of the extent to which distillation is fundamentally about moving staggering quantities of liquid around without spilling any.

This stillhouse brings that home particularly well, since it's no more than two steps from the mashtun to the washback (both stainless steel) and three steps from the washback to the low wines still.  "Compact" would cover it!  The volumes of these vessels are also necessarily restricted by the space available, but the distillery is still capable of well over 100,000 litres a year.

INNOVATING AND EVOLVING

Showing me round with enthusiasm for all of this, John was particularly proud of his stills set-up, and rightly so.  Bespoke for the Lakes Distillery, they have heavy-duty portholes in them so the actual distillation can be seen while ongoing.  That is, so far as I'm aware, unique to this place.  The stills themselves are also designed to give maximum reflux of the spirit vapours so the copper contact is extended, even in such small stills.  All that helps with the final flavour.

Speaking of stills, there’s not just whisky happening in this space – tucked away in its own little corner is a gin still that looks like a large beachball with a pointy hat!  It was hand-beaten into shape and will undoubtedly be a hit on tours, it’s so cute.

Back to the whisky bit.  Also unique, so far as I know, is the potential for the distillery to use either stainless steel or copper condensers to cool all that distillate back to liquid.  Copper contact helps "lighten" the spirit and John hopes by balancing the steel- and copper-condensed spirits he'll be able to balance the Lakes' malt exactly where he wants it.  It's part of the ethos of evolution and innovation that fair thrums through this place.

That ethos is probably going to be most noticeably (and probably controversially, given the amount of whining over NAS) expressed in how the Lakes intend to age their whisky.  Scotch must be aged in oak: it's the law.  The Lakes aren't making scotch.  They don't have to use oak casks.  They will, predominantly, because you don't innovate by completely abandoning a successful formula, but they will try out some other types of wood to see what results they get.  I'd love to see some chestnut-aged whisky, just because it sounds romantic and I bet the colour would be phenomenal.  The same goes for cherry wood.  It’s not the first time other woods have been used as whisky casks, but that’s getting in to the deep history of whisky making.  Oak has been dominant for so long, and production evolved so much, that any records of those ye olde times would be useless as predictors anyway.  I would be among the first in line for a chestnut-finished whisky!

Everyone's having a go at whisky now.  No, seriously, the US has people making it in their garage, the French, Swedes, Welsh and Australians are all making whisky of some sort and doing it very, very well in most cases.  Even the English are getting in on the act!

This blend is put together by the Lakes Distillery, of the Lake District if that was troubling you, and contains Scottish, Welsh and English whisky.  None of that comes from the Lakes Distillery yet, since they're still finishing their build, but I imagine their intention will be to include their own product as soon as possible.  I particularly like the idea of mixing those nations since I'm a bit of a mongrel too, born in Bedfordshire to Scottish parents.  I like to think of myself as a fine blend!

The One is 40% abv, as you'd expect, and has some very neat, stylish packaging to frame the pale, almost chardonnay-coloured whisky inside.

NEAT

Nose - Malty at first, before buttery pastry and digestive biscuit give their cautious richness.  It's minty and light though, with a tiny hint of lime after a bit of time.

Taste - The malt is to the fore with the pastry/butter/biscuit.  It not long before the minty element keeps it light and that hint of lime gives a sharp touch.  The finish is abrupt but that's a pretty common quality in blends.

DILUTE

Nose - Water brings out the fruity character and a white pepper tang on the tongue.  It's still subtle and malty but more rounded and enticing.

Taste - This is as smooth as silk now.  The flavours are subtle but no less enjoyable for that - malt, butter and something like lime posset to refresh.  White pepper tingles at the finish and leaves a savoury taste on the lips.

I've previously expressed my extreme disappointment in Macallan Gold, but I was very generously sent a sample of their Ruby whisky by the lovely people at Whisky Corner a while back and have only now conquered my laziness sufficiently to post a review!  Must do better.

Anyway, if you know whisky, you know Macallan.  Big, sherried Speysides are their stock in trade, or were until the aforementioned Gold travesty.  That's at one end of the 1824 Series' spectrum; this Ruby is very much pitched at the premium market, shifting for about £120 a bottle.  At that price range it's sitting perilously close to the majestic 18 YO Macallan.  Is it in that elevated league?

NEAT

Nose - Immediately this SHOUTS that it's a rich, sherry-bomb whisky.  There's dark chocolate ginger biscuits, fruitcake and a kind of orange/lemon cream note as well.  It's the good bits of afternoon tea!  Finally, mint gives a fresh finish.  Lush and enticing.

Taste - As promised by that big nose, this is rich, even cloying, where the ginger heat is a hook for dark chocolate and dark orange marmalade (the kind you imagine they have on their toast in Downton Abbey).  It's actually a little densely packed for me, almost overwhelming my palate.  If there was something more subtle in there it was completely overwhelmed by that stewed mouthfeel.  I think I like a lighter touch with my sherry casks.

DILUTE

Nose - Water makes this open up immensely, letting out a herbaceous, nearly grassy note to bring that sherry influence under control.  Apart from that, nothing else new is revealed. Everything from before was present, just more muted, so it still smells pretty good, but I've got used to whiskies releasing a few more aromas on dilution.  I took some time over this one, but nope, nothing else!

Taste - There's some espresso-like bitterness, maybe with a pump of caramel (oooooh, check me and my fancy coffee), and the ginger is still there, albeit in a reduced capacity.  This seemed kind of flat, obsessed with a smooth finish instead of delivering on flavour.  The finish is the ginger with a hint of coffee.

A story about going whisky tasting with friends.

Six schoolfriends and I were in Edinburgh for a boys' weekend a few years ago.  No matter how old we might actually be, these weekends see a mass-regression to 19 and stupid.  The two aren't strictly synonymous but might as well be, in the case of my group. 

The Friday night is always supposed to be the quiet night but enthusiasm got the better of us, as per usual. I’d arranged a whisky tasting at the Scotch Malt Whisky Society on Saturday afternoon, both as a way to bring a little structure to the drinking and to avoid watching football in a pub all afternoon. It’s fair to say the majority of us weren’t as fresh as would be ideal before an afternoon sampling cask strength whisky.

Nevertheless, we trouped in and paid close attention to the very well informed guy taking us through the whiskies, even if he had trouble understanding that this wasn't a stag do. I can’t precisely remember what we drank that afternoon (mists of time!  I swear!) but it definitely included some raw spirit. If you’ve never had it before, it’s clear, smells slightly sweaty and is very strong.  You can tell it's going to be whisky eventually but it's a drink apart.

This stuff was typically fruity and sweet, but there was a familiar flavour to it that I struggled to put my finger on, something from childhood. It was appley but not strictly like an apple, if that makes the slightest sense.  Then lightning struck and I blurted it out with a thump of the table - "APPLE CHEWITS!"

Stunned silence around the table.  "Apple chewits?!  Alright, get back to the 1980s!" and other similar encouragement.  After 5 minutes or so of this positive reinforcement, I got the chance to explain my, admittedly, ludicrous remark.  The spirit had the same artificial apple flavour you get in apple-flavoured sweets!  A couple of the guys agreed (hypocrites!) but apparently it was no excuse for saying something so ridiculous.

Scotch whisky buffs all know the scotch whisky regions.  There's Lowland, Highland, Speyside, Islay and Campbeltown.  I would argue that Island is a region of its own, and many would agree, but the 5 listed are the traditional breakdown.  Each region is strongly associated with a particular style of whisky making, although I would also argue that Campbeltown doesn't really have a regional style anymore, more a refreshing experimental eccentricity that keeps the industry watching nervously for the inevitable massive explosion.

The styles for each region are not a hard and fast rule but do provide a broadly accurate spectrum of what you might get, so for example you'd expect a Speyside to be sweet and very lightly peated and an Islay to be smoky and dry.  What we're seeing now is distilleries challenging those style expectations and releasing bottles that deviate wildly from their regional style.

I was recently at a tasting for the new anCnoc peated releases: Rutter, Flaughter and Tushkar (the latter being a Sweden-only release).  The traditional Highland style allows for a little peating but these go way past the normal levels for the regional style and certainly beyond anything found in standard anCnoc bottlings!  The tasting was fun and very professionally done but a telling question was asked at the end: "Do you think we should have released these?"

That, for me, encapsulated the nervousness so many distilleries feel when innovating or breaking from centuries-old tradition.  Scotch whisky is worth something around £4billion per annum so to mess with any aspect of it will always feel like fixing something that ain't broke!  That said, I wholeheartedly welcome innovation like the peated anCnocs or the HUGE peated Benriachs that have been released.  It's reminds me of the horror the wine industry had at the New World guys blending non-traditional grape varieties together, in defiance of centuries of practice.  Not everything worked, and that was true even in the 3 anCnocs, but when it does work it's very special and creates exciting possibilities for the future.

Anyone who's been into whisky for a very long time, or been able to taste older bottlings, will know that the style of whisky has evolved enormously over the years, in spite of the industry's conservative nature.  The innovations and deviations from regional style that we're seeing now are perhaps a leap forward in that evolution and we will inevitably see some cul de sacs explored along the way, but the avenues that do open up will be all the more exciting for the future.

I ran a small scale whisky tasting at a local food festival in Kirkintilloch recently.  I was helping promote the stock of a local deli, Billingtons of Lenzie, so poured a selection of their whiskies, specifically Bank Note 5 years old blend, a 6 years old Glenburgie single malt and an 18 years old Stronachie single malt (all independent bottlings from AD Rattray).  I personally rate all 3 whiskies very highly and particularly enjoy the 6 years old since (a) it's unusual to find a whisky that young for sale that advertises its age and (b) it's a great example of cask management producing a good whisky with good balance so early.

The feedback from the tastings was overwhelmingly positive and the Stronachie always went down well, as you would expect from an obviously premium single malt.  Perhaps obviously, it was the Glenburgie and the Bank Note that tended to stop people in their tracks.

A number of people were deeply dubious about trying the Bank Note, imperiously declaring that they only drank single malts.  I smiled professionally and inwardly twatted them about the head for being so narrowly focused, then poured them their tasting nip.  Almost all were surprised at how smooth and complex the blend was!  It was fascinating to see people row back their opinions on what a blended whisky could be if it was treated with a little care.

The most "controversial" whisky was the Glenburgie.  At 6 years old it was the first time many had come across such a young single malt and it divided opinion pretty neatly!  Half thought it too vanilla-sweet and fruity to be palatable; half thoroughly enjoyed precisely those qualities and thought it a great antidote to the cloying richness of many other malts they'd tried.  Someone even described it as a summer whisky!  I know exactly what they mean.

My point is that it's likely none of these people would have voluntarily chosen the blend or the 6 year old unless forced to by the rules of the tasting.  Whisky drinkers are as susceptible to habit and prejudice as anyone (possibly more so, but that's another can of worms) so when confronted with something they had habitually dismissed they were shocked they enjoyed it.

I was recently at an excellent whisky tasting, organised by the fine people at the Good Spirits Co. in Glasgow, where we tasted whiskies from yesteryear.  They spanned the decades but nothing was distilled later than the late 80s, although nothing was a pensioner when it was bottled either.  Of the six, five were superb and well worth a re-visit if I ever get the chance again, although one was a comedy stinker, to be mocked later.  The specifics are kind of irrelevant since none are really commercially available, so I'm going to stick to general terms.

The most striking thing about the whole tasting was how much headier, oilier even, the old whiskies were compared to their modern counterparts.  They really did have a deeper flavour!  Speculation on the night concluded that this was because in the old days the distilleries only did 2 fermentations of wash a week (rather than the 3 done now) and each lasted a lot longer than it does these days, so there was more time for more chemistry to happen.  The yeast used was not the laser-precision alcohol producing tool it is today, so again, there were more flavours and compounds left over from the barley that made it into the stills and then the cask.

Further discussion down this road also brought in the "haphazard" wood management policies of the smaller guys back in the day and the general feeling that distillation in the old days was probably far more an art than the efficient science it's become today.  Every generation has probably said that about the preceding one but to compare the laboratories and machinery available today with what was available to even powerful distilleries in the 60s and 70s is to compare an Amstrad to an iPad: they're barely recognisable as being of the same breed.

So has all this tech diminished the quality of whisky available to us punters and reduced it to the same, safe, homogenised brown liquid?  I really, really don't think so.  We were tasting literally remarkable stuff.  Until the mid-late 1990s, single malt whisky just wasn't a big deal so very little was produced for public consumption.  This meant the casks being released for bottling were probably the best of the best, since demand was pretty easy to meet from supply.

To compare that against the surge in demand that's been seen over the last 20 years is just not a fair comparison.  Every distiller will tell you that modern production methods, where timing is crucial and more accurate measurements mean reduced waste, are better able produce a reliable product in commercial volumes.  To return to the production methods of 20 years (and the rest) ago and demand the same volume of supply would be commercial suicide!  We have an infinitely larger range of product available to us of a consistently higher standard than ever before because these tools are available to distillers.

This is why (controversy klaxon!) so many good quality NAS bottlings are possible - the quality of the spirit and the quality of the cask are more accurately quantifiable so can come together to produce a quality spirit that needs less time to age out its rough edges.  Of course, some are NAS hits and some are NAS misses, but that was just as true of the old ways too.

Which brings me neatly on to the comedy whisky from the night: a late '80s distillation Glen Garioch.  Some hapless soul at Morrison Bowmore had apparently ordered the wrong kind of soap for washing out the vats - instead of scentless he got lavender.  It was awful.  The perfume from the soap was apparent the moment it got to your nose.  If your mother ever told you to wash your mouth out, this was the dram for you!  My point is that it was still released to the public, despite this horrific flaw.  I just don't believe, with the level of competition made possible by modern production efficiencies, that a company today would risk its reputation by releasing such an aberration!

The shower might be the greatest single device for the advancement of thought that mankind has ever invented.  I had my own, extraordinarily minor, epiphany in the shower this morning as I considered how to frame this tasting note.  I'll get to it at the end of the note.  In the meantime, please try to move past the anxiety-inducing thought of me in the shower.

I will always have a special place in my heart for The Glenlivet.  It's an incredibly important distillery in the history of scotch whisky, both single malt and blended, and can justifiably call itself the keystone in this multi-billion pound industry.  This special edition was chosen by the Guardians Chapter - people who've joined the Glenlivet fanclub, basically.  There were tastings where the malts in the running were showcased and democracy chose this expression, the Exotic.

It's non-chill filtered and bottled at 48.7% abv.  I bought this through the Whisky Shop in an early release.

NEAT

Nose - Very light and subtle initially.  Honey and good milk chocolate (almost dark) bring a creamy sweetness but with a very slightly bitter edge.  After that sweetness you can't help but be hit by a big wave of fruit!  Citrus peel and green apples make this seem incredibly fresh.  Probably no mistake it was released right at the start of spring!

Taste - This is honey-sweet on the palate and that citrus hit reminds me of orange-blossom honey.  Then it's all about the rest of that fruit.  This is really juicy stuff, but always with sweetness behind it.  It's therefore surprising that the finish is slightly bitter!  I'm speculating here, but this feels like quite a young whisky (all that sugar and zesty stuff) and that bitterness might just need a bit more wood-maturity to age out.  It's a shame because it was going well until that point.

DILUTE

Nose - Once this gets some water in it, the orange is immediately more prominent and the chocolate note is now definitely milk chocolate, but still good stuff.

Taste - It's caramel sweet before the expected fruit burst but a previously hidden spice, nutmeg I think, gives a welcome heat.  Water has also shown up an almond nuttiness that is a nice savoury note amidst all that citrus.  The finish is mid-length and spicy with almost a wine-y sharpness that's a bit jarring.  I'm still of the opinion that this is a little young for release and needs a year or two more to develop some proper body to support that fruity character.

Overall, this is a nice, refreshing drop that falls short of brilliant by being too young, I think.  Now here's the epiphany: I have a few independent bottlings of some other well-known malts at very young age statements and this special edition puts me precisely in mind of those.  The sharp fruit, the borderline candy-ish sweetness, the lack of real depth - all are characteristic of an indie released young to stop the bottler incurring the storage cost.  The big difference is that I paid a lot less for the indies than I did for this, so if I'm right and it is a young bottling (I'd take a guess at between 6 and 8 years old) it really isn't brilliant value for money.