I Once Went to Bruichladdich, on the Isle of Islay

I Once Went to Bruichladdich, on the Isle of Islay

There are some people and some places that have a certain magic to them. If you are lucky enough to encounter the magic people in the magic places, then things get turned around, upside down and put back to centre inside you – in a way that means you cannot leave unchanged. Bruichladdich is like that for me, a distillery on the edge of Islay looking across Loch Indaal.

“As I step, I see feather after feather along my way. There is an old legend that says when you see those small white feathers appearing around you, it’s a sign that someone is watching over you, thinking of you. I have found those feathers in the back country of Kentucky, the suburbs of Tennessee, the steps of St Pauls in London and here, in Islay – in the hallway of the Port Charlotte Hotel, on the foreshore of the Singing Seas and on the steps of Bruichladdich Distillery. Perhaps my Scottish ancestors are smiling that I’ve returned to the land of my forefathers and to this island of most famous malts. It’s remarkable that one small island of eight remaining distilleries can have such an impact on the world whisky stage. Islay malt is a thing of legend.”
This excerpt from my story The Sun Came Out on Islay gives you a glimpse of the magic. 

This gorgeous print is from Kate McLelland and you can view more of her work here.

Look to the centre of the map and you’ll see Bowmore, settled in the apex of Loch Indaal. Directly opposite to the left or thereabouts, sits Bruichladdich and the distillery village that has been built around her. One or two stores and two roads, one leading around the coast and the inland to farmland.

It pays to know the ‘ch’ in Bruichladdich is silent. If you’re clever, you’ll ask which ‘ch’.. it’s the one at the end, the first is said in that Scottish brogue that sounds like the earth rolling over itself.

If you’ve spent anytime on the Bourbon Trail in Kentucky or even in some of the larger Scottish distilleries, you might be under the impression that a distillery is all nameless and faceless until they roll the big guns out for annual festivities, but it’s not like that at all on Islay, let alone at Bruichladdich. There’s no such email address as store – at – bruichladdich dot com. It’s Mary you’ll meet most days and so it’s Mary you can email to arrange your distillery tour.

And it’s worth visiting, just like I did, in the slightly off-season before the hub-bub and madness of Fèis Ìle. In the gentle Spring sun, Mary took me on a more personal tour – albeit, I was the only one hanging around. Her immediate ancestors built and worked in the distillery, so it’s in her blood. It was a little of the magic of people and place I talked about. Here’s a glimpse of Bruichladdich as I saw her.

 

There are plenty of distilleries who talk about and deliver on experimental finishes and trying new things – certainly there are many who have bigger marketing budgets and personalities like Dr. Bill Lumsden. But there is something wonderfully understated in how Bruichladdich have been going about proving their brand as Progressive Hebridean Distillers; more than the vibrant teal and distinctly modern typography on their bottles alone.

The oldest history, old history and the new history
You can read more about the beginnings of Bruichladdich (practice it with me… brew-achk – lahdeehere. Bruichladdich started as a family business thanks to the Harvey brothers in 1881 and by the time Mark Reynier and his investors completed purchase of the distillery in 2000, the distillery found itself in the hands of an owner who prized the Victorian equipment and the family-owned and run mentality of distilling. Careful restoration meant almost all of the original equipment in still in use for production today, although the distillery is closed in June 2017 for annual repairs and maintenance. Even the grainhopper is nearly 150 years old!

Let’s skip ahead to when I first tasted Bruichladdich in 2006. The iconic squat bottle and bright teal caught my eye, almost as much as the discovery of Bruichladdich as Islay’s unpeated malt. This was in fact older malt that was being released from stock but by the time they released their first ‘new make’ spirit in 2011, there were already moves afoot to purchase Bruichladdich from Reynier by French giant Rémy Cointreau. Part of Bruichladdich’s success was the migration of Jim McEwan from Bowmore to Bruichladdich, where he took up the role of distillery manager and influenced the evolution of Bruichladdich’s ‘progressive approach’. The sale went ahead in the summer of 2012 but since then, Mary and others will tell you they’ve been able to maintain a family-run approach. When Jim retired in 2015, it was Adam Hannett who stepped into the role of Head Distiller, having learned from Jim. And outside of a few changes to production rates and the backing and resources of a global giant to hand, not too much has changed.

Geography and tasting
Bruichladdich takes water directly from the spring so it doesn’t run through the peat beds as it does at Ardbeg, Lagavulin or many of the other southern distilleries. This limited peat contact and the use of un-peated barley the resulting whisky is much milder and lighter than what people traditionally think of as an Islay malt. In general terms, the flavour profile is appropriately opposite to Speyside whiskies (opposite coasts!). Think dry finishes and spice notes that sit behind the smoke. These gentler Islay spirits are greener moss and grass influenced (rather than peat) with a touch of seaweed, tending towards a roundness of nuts and a dry finish. In the case of Bruichladdich, the unpeated malt is floral and complex. It’s a lighter spirit but it’s not simple. The flagship bottling (The Classic Laddie Ten) was first released in 2011, exactly ten years from when the restored stills first ran through to the spirit safe on September 9, 2001.

Progressive means what?
In their own words, Bruichladdich ‘respects the past but doesn’t live in its shadow’. When you visit the distillery, you’ll see cask explorations that are only available there as the head distiller picks and chooses casks from Rémy Cointreau’s stocks around the globe. That day at the distillery, Cask Exploration No.7 is classic Bruichladdich spirit finished in a Rivesaltes wine cask. Rivesaltes is a little-known wine appellation in French Catalonia – a sweet wine. In this expression, the balance of the classic malt profile is sweetened and rounded by the wine finish. Bruichladdich release Black Art (now in it’s 5.1 edition which is solely Adam’s profile and on his own admittance, he’s changed McEwan’s recipe quite drastically) semi-regularly, a more general release of these wine cask explorations.

But there’s more to it than wine finishes. Bruichladdich leapt into making malt using barley grown from the Octomore farm behind the site of Port Charlotte. From these threads of history, Bruichladdich created both the Port Charlotte, a peated version of their spirit, a 100% Scottish version and the Octomore, the most heavily peated of all the Islay whiskies.

DISTILLERY MALT PHENOLS (ppm) NEW MAKE PHENOLS (ppm) MIDDLE CUT ABV
Ardbeg 54 (42-70) 24-26 73-62.5
Bowmore 20-25 8-10 74-61.5
Bruichladdich 3-4 76-64
Port Charlotte 40 20-25
Octomore 129 (in 2003) 46 (in 2003)
Brora 7-40
Bunnahabhain 1-2 (peated malt 38)
72-64
Caol Ila 30-35 12-13 75-65
Highland Park 35-40 (and unpeated malt used together) 2 70 and then 2h40min
Lagavulin 35-40 16-18 72-59
Laphroaig 40-45 25 72-60.5

Phenol-levels of malts and new-makes in different distilleries and the ABV of the middle cut.
(modified from Misako Udo: The Scottish Whisky Distilleries)

It’s this ability to play at all ends of the spectrum that I most love about Bruichladdich and then there is the spirit of the place when you arrive. More likely to be greeted like family because, in many respects they are just that. A slightly-extended, whisky-making, award-winning family.

While you may not make it to the shores of Bruichladdich anytime soon, can I highly recommend you take a tastebud journey?
Start with the Laddie Ten and then try it alongside the Port Charlotte to really get a sense of this wonderful place.

The Shout: 2017 Whisky Trends piece

I was asked to compile a short guide to emerging whisky trends for the April edition of The Shout. The big trends I see emerging are a little more subtle than some of the big talk recently. Japanese whisky is still popular but it’s new world whisky and American whisky that is trending big time. In response, consumer’s palates are becoming increasingly bold and willing to try new expressions. And the for and against debate continues to rage regarding non-age statement whiskies.

 

[pdf-embedder url=”http://whiskygirl.co.nz/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/HB-April-2017Spread-30-1.pdf” title=”HB April 2017Spread 30″]

How To Become A Whisky Girl.

How To Become A Whisky Girl.

People often ask me, ‘how did you become a whisky girl?’ Mostly, I imagine they expect it was my father or an ex-boyfriend, perhaps a favourite university professor who shared a dram with me and set me on the path. But they’re wrong to imagine that. Sure, I’ve shared plenty of whisky with my dad and step-dad, the odd professor and mentor but they weren’t the ones that led me on the path.

At a push, I’d say it was Chase, dear friend and bartender who gave me permission to explore and accompanied me on a journey through the top shelf at my old local, but even then, it’s not entirely true.

It was Curiosity that did it. The kind that Albert Einstein talked about when he said to never lose a holy curiosity. I have had that quote written on my wall and almost every journal I’ve ever owned.

The important thing is not to stop questioning. Curiosity has its own reason for existing. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvellous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery every day. Never lose a holy curiosity. – Albert Einstein

The truth is while I was on the way to becoming a whisky girl, I was learning a lot about life and so here it is, the lessons so far. Apply them liberally to whisky, love and friends. You won’t regret it.

For more lessons and a personal introduction, join me at The Jefferson on Wednesday 31 August for the first Women & Whisky tasting. Tickets at $80 and include a cocktail and 5 whiskies influenced and shaped by women. It’s an ideal way to explore a range of whiskies, hear some great stories and learn more about your own palate and preferences. Email rsvp@thejefferson.co.nz to book or message me for details. 

How To Become A Whisky Girl

Rule #1: Stay curious. Enjoy discovery more than knowledge. There are some people for whom the pleasure is in knowing. But once you know something or how you think the story ends, you stop paying such close attention. Stay curious and let your pleasure be in discovery.

Rule #2: If you will let discovery be your pleasure, listen more than you talk. Listen to the stories you hear from the people around you. Listen to the makers and the bartenders, to the lovers of single malt and the fans of Japanese whisky. Listen to the stories of brand ambassadors and people who once drank with someone who worked with a guy who visited a distillery one time. Listen – because the language of whisky is story.

Rule #3: Ask more questions. Ask more questions of the people behind the bar and beside you. Ask questions about what happened before they got to the bar and afterwards. It’s always better to enjoy a good drink with good conversation and questions are the way to get there. Practice asking questions more than you practice ordering.

Rule #4: Learn how to taste by paying attention to the details. Learning to taste is less about learning to spit or swish or swallow than it is about paying attention to the detail. Give your attention to something for long enough and the detail will emerge. What once tasted like hot, peppery alcohol will become curried apricots or butterscotch and oats if you just pay attention to the details for a moment or two. Learning to taste properly will help you to appreciate that which you may not love but can at least see the artistry in. This one is also particularly good to apply to people.

Rule #5: It’s never too soon to share what you know. There’s no real joy in holding onto knowledge without sharing it with someone else. Everything I learn is usually helpful or entertaining for someone else and it’s how we keep our stories alive, retelling them over and over.

Rule #6: A good story in good company can make the dullest edge shine. And that my friends, is self-explanatory.

It turns out that a whisky girl is happy to sit at the bar alone or make conversation with whoever turns up alongside her. She’s picky about her drinking buddies when she has something to say, but she can turn her attention to someone who needs a friend in a matter of seconds – because she listens and pays attention to the details. She asks a good question, so she’ll get to know your soul as well as she knows the whisky in her glass. She’ll not judge you for drinking Johnnie or Jack and she may only have one favourite drink. But a drink with her will open your eyes to something new and leave you coming back for more. Because a whisky girl knows that whisky lessons are good for life too, and she lives it well. Lives it large. Lives it small.

There are lots of romantic ideas about whisky girls around these days and I hold more than three of them to be true in my own life. This whisky girl is romantic, passionate, always learning, relentlessly curious. More than anything else though, this whisky girl became so by learning how to walk in the confidence of knowing who she was, who she is and who she’ll be and becoming braver and braver to ask for what she wants, what she likes and what she needs. That’s who the Whisky Girl is… vulnerable and brave enough to tell you, she’s not done yet figuring it out or learning what she wants – but you’re invited along for the ride. And that is everything you need to know.

See you at the J for a wonderful night.

 

A Philosophy of Tasting & Treasure Hunting

A Philosophy of Tasting & Treasure Hunting

Around my fireplace (indoors in winter, outdoors in summer), whisky nerd-dom and booze geekery gives way to philosophy more often than not. We may talk for a few moments of taste, colour, texture, body and the characteristics of the wood, but quickly the whisky leads us to stories, memories and things that ought to be shared with others. It may be that in my blood runs the blood of the great philosophizing nations or simply that spirit loosens the tongues of fools, but I am certain that whisky has accompanied some of the grandest philosophical conversations of world history and even more certain, it has been present at most of mine.

I have philosophies on lots of things, which sometimes leads me down interesting and unusual paths. But those are the not the stories you want to hear today, you can hold on a touch for those. No, the philosophy and therefore story of the day is simply a question: when you should drink whisky and when should you store it away? Which is in turn, closely followed by the question when should you invest in a bottle or just in a dram?

I have recently been invited to join several private tastings; one where the buy-in was an easy $50, another $25 and yet another, a bottle. The only caveat was the bottling needed to be from a closed distillery; Port Ellen in fact, one of my few and out of reach unicorn bottlings. A recent auction saw a Port Ellen 31 year old 1978 sell for over $NZD3000. Not to mention the 33 year old Port Ellen currently for sale at Auckland Airport for a mere $9264.00 (duty-free).That’s a steep entry fee, but at least you’d be opening the bottle with drinkers who would appreciate it. As David McGee says, ‘What we spend, we lose. What we keep will be left for others. What we give away will be ours forever.’ He has a point, I think – because what’s the point of owning a Picasso, Van Gogh or something even more esoteric and then keeping it locked away? The point is to learn it, know it intimately and preferably to share it with others. Democritus said no power nor treasure can outweigh the extension of our knowledge. And nor can our knowledge be robbed from us. So most of the time, I firmly believe there is little point collecting whisky if you don’t intend to drink and especially if you do not intend to drink it in good company. That is the first question answered.

Why is one bottle more sought after than another? It’s market dynamics with a little bit of human nature thrown in, I think. Rarity and scarcity will always increase demand so long as someone wants what is difficult to come by and even more so, when having it says something about your power, your wealth and your means.

After all, men desire beauty and go to great lengths to own it. Women desire beauty and go to great lengths to become it. At the heart of it all is a desire to have, to hold, to own, to capture. What does treasure look like?

I’ve only recently become aware of the Scotch Malt Whisky Society, an independent bottling company with a difference offering membership packages that come with drinking, buying and experiential opportunities that are hard to come by. The SMWS only offers limited edition single cask bottlings, from distilleries all over Scotland and beyond with a particular bent for the unusual. These whiskies have their own lexicon; a code of numbers that refers to the original distillery but insists the whisky speaks for itself. Many of their bottlings stand out as unusual amongst the traditional flavour profile of their region. Hence, the whiskies themselves are like decoding a great treasure hunt. It’s some of the most fun you have with whisky, letting it take you entirely by surprise without the compass of expectation to guide you. The rewards are great, particularly when comparing notes with others.

I tasted the 50.68, the Orange Exposition and imagined myself in a candy store to rival Willy Wonka’s factory so present were the gummy drop, boiled sweet and marshmellowy layers of the dram. I’ve tasted baked apples before, but not like this. Or the extraordinary 3.246, the most curious combination of lemony manuka, smoked bacon and herbal tea aptly named the Curious Apothecary. These are bottles that range from $200 – $450 on the current SMWS New Zealand site.

So these treasures – should I buy the bottle or the dram? I am not rich, at least not as far as whisky connoisseurs and collectors go. I budget, save, measure and plan my indulgences and my palate runs broad enough to enjoy accessible and approachable whiskies that do not cost the world. So how do I gain access to the intimacy and knowledge of those things I desire, in a game I can’t always afford to play? I taste and treasure hunt. I buy the dram and sometimes (preferably) six of them at a time in a tasting, surrounded by good company of fellow adventure-seekers. Which is why you’ll so often find me at regular tasting nights at The Jefferson and in particular, at the SMWS tasting this Wednesday 29th June.

What better way to go treasure hunting and share a little philosopher than in a room full of fellow aspiring hunters? And for $80 a ticket, six tasting glasses is one heck of a ride through vaults. I buy the dram and not the bottle, when I want to indulge. Then if I am overwhelmingly in love, I buy the bottle and open it, giving it a home on my whisky shelf to be enjoyed by those who gather around the fire. The point is to taste it, to learn it and to do so in good company. You can’t take your treasure with you, you can only take what you’ve experienced and known. At least, that’s this whisky-girl’s philosophy on tasting, treasure and some other truths too.

PS: For a membership fee to the SMWS, you get your own tasting samples, membership card, exclusive access to tastings, dinners, events and partner bars and clubs around the world. Plus, they have been judged Best Independent Bottler for a few years in a row. 

See you at the tasting table soon or email to book your Wednesday night tickets. 

[et_bloom_inline optin_id=optin_1]

 

 

The Ardbeg Story Continues: where to next?

The Ardbeg Story Continues: where to next?

The days are getting colder and in my neighbourhood, the smell of burning wood and charcoal is hanging in the night air by 6pm each night. That smell reminds me of the burning peat I smelled in the same dark air hanging over Islay. I imagine the dark cove in Ardbeg Bay. It’s not hard to picture the black outline of a pirate ship hidden in the black ink of the Sound.

When Ardbeg Night passed this year on the 28th of May, it started as each of the last five Ardbeg Days has – whisky fans lined up for the bottles to go on sale and to taste the latest release. But as night fell, the smoke and mist rose up in a late autumn haze and we ducked under the cover of our own darkened den, a safe haven underground called the Jefferson.

The Dark Cove sat side by side in a vertical tasting of Ardbeg Ten, Uigeadail and Corrywreckan. Disclaimer – my favourite of all the Ardbeg releases is the Uigeadail. As soon as I lift the lid of the tasting glass,  I can smell the distinctive nose and my mouth waters at the blush pink of salmon blinis lining the tasting table. It’s going to be a delicious night and I’m ready to indulge my memories of Islay already.

Scotch salmon, lemon and salt was one of my favourite meals at the Port Charlotte Hotel in Islay. I’m swept up in nostalgia and excited to talk whisky with other food writers and lovers in this special tasting.

The beauty of this vertical tasting is to explore the Ardbeg Day whisky as part of the Ardbeg story.. as told by many previous releases. Jonny leads us to begin with the Ardbeg Ten. The classic profile is straightforward but big, because it’s all on counterpoint to the traditional Ardbeg smoke.

Ardbeg Ten
Nose:
Faint vanilla in the air and a ring of citrus that surrounds a firepit of peaty embers and sea salt spray.

Palate: It delivers exactly what’s promised on the nose. Vanilla becomes sweet, citrus becomes distinct as lemon and lime with a smoky, salt brine.

Finish: The sugars develop to leave a lingering sea salt caramel and smoke haze. It’s long.

This Ardbeg is well-balanced and sets the scene for the journey that each consequent Ardbeg will take us on. So to Uigeadail we go. This is bottled at 54.2%, an extraordinarily precise figure that the distillery manager assured me is the perfect cut to enjoy the raisin-rich tones added to the spirit from time in ex-Sherry casks. Once again, those sherry notes capture me.

Uigeadail is named for the Loch from which Ardbeg draws its rich, peaty water. It means ‘dark and mysterious place’ and the water that runs from the loch is tinged dark from the peat it runs through. This whisky has intrigued and wooed me from first tasting, a multi-layered and complex whisky that comes from

Ardbeg Uigeadail
Nose:
Ground coffee beans, dark sugars, oats and cereal with classic peat profile.

Palate: Dark, sweet fruits hit first. Cereal and oats on the nose become a mouthful of malt, with the sweetness of honey around the edges. Quickly the smoke and peat emerges, leaving the crack of peated barley on the tongue.

Finish: Long as Ardbeg tends to be: the sweet dark sugars emerge again into dark caramel and malt. The Ardbeg smoke rounds with touches of espresso coffee.

Now we move on to the Corrywreckan, named for the monstrous whirlpool that sits off the north west coast of Islay. Various warnings exist for seamen daring enough to approach, but the best visage is offered from the air. The currents of the sound meet in an extraordinary surge. Such it is with this malt, the peppery, smoky air of Islay churning in the glass. Of the extreme whiskies, this is an extreme example. Every flavour is blown to an extreme, no surprise given that it’s bottled at an astounding 57.1%.

Ardbeg Corrywreckan
Nose:
Dettol and plastic, roasted fats and salt, butter on potatoes and light, herbal notes like a pine tree blowing in the breeze.

Palate: This malt buzzes on the palate with fresh tangy fruit, pepper, spice and then a smooth creamy nature that belies the alcohol percentage. I get a orange note at the backend that feels juicy and sweet, while maintaining the tartness of the fresh peel, bitterness entering at the end.

Finish: By the end the story is all medicinal, salt, cream and fresh fruit. It’s long but not as long in my opinion as the Uigeadail, but it’s also not as mysterious. Everything about Corrywreckan leaps out and smacks you in the face. The peaty element will fly past you, but chili, asphalt, bbq smoked meat and salt will linger long.

You can read the Dark Cove tasting notes here. There’s obviously some sherry cask (PX, for my money) in the Dark Cove. It’s perhaps my most favourite of the Ardbeg Day releases since Ardbog, which was peaty, earthy and bold.

Where to next? Personally, I’d love to see the Ardbeg team take the citrus notes to another level or explore that edge of salt and medicinals that make the malt so distinctive. I want to see what happens with a chocolate and coffee emphasis balanced in sherry casks or dare I say, a wine finished Ardbeg whisky that I am certain is sitting in a warehouse on the coast of Islay. Ardbeg gave us space whisky. Keep giving us the future Bill.