by tashmcgill | Jun 7, 2016 | Drink, Opinion, Tasting Notes
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.
by tashmcgill | May 31, 2016 | Opinion, Tasting Notes
About a month ago, I tried my first Ballechin. It’s a peated whisky release from Edradour. This weekend, I tried my second. I jumped to the 6th release of the Ballechin, bourbon-cask finished. It’s a NAS (non-age statement) whisky, peated to a minimum of 50ppm and aged solely in first-fill bourbon casks, which means the influence of bourbon will be at an all time high. It’s a remarkable thing, when you consider how sought after rare and rare-ish whiskies can be, to find a bottle of only 6000 that were released in 2011.
Then again, half the pleasure is in seeking the treasure.
It’s not that this whisky is the best whisky ever made. That’s subjective anyway. Nor the most exclusive, hard to find or sought after. But in nosing the glass and enjoying the spirit, we are participating in the golden age of whisky experimentation and re-definition.
I for one, am not bothered by the NAS nay-sayers. There has always been a place for blended malt, that’s what the foundation of the whisky industry is built on. So why extend that blending skill and wizardry to other, unique expressions? Within that, there is plenty of room for whisky that can be defined by something other than its age.
To the same degree, a whisky that is defined by its age faces a different set of challenges – consistency, supply and demand on the global scale.
It would be foolish to say with one hand that NAS whisky is a marketing ploy, when those same tactics are equally applied to conveying the quality of time and what it can do to spirit. I recently tried something very old that was extraordinarily characteristic of the people and place in which it is made and I came up short. I found that age alone was not the expression of that whisky profile that made my palate sing, but it still told a story nonetheless. I learned something I didn’t know before, taken by surprise and that is a delightful feeling.
I think we ought to embrace the experimentation that leads whisky makers into bold new territories and not succumb to petty arguments about best, proper, true, right ways of doing things. Traditional is a constantly evolving story, after all.
It’s why I still explore and try new spirits – whisky, bourbon, rye, gin, tequila, rum and even vodka from time to time. The exploration keeps me humble and in constant posture to keep going further.
So then I went further with Ballechin and I was wonderfully surprised. Things have been pretty dark and peaty around here for a while (something to do with Ardbeg Day) so it was refreshing to the palate to take that peat in a brand new direction.
Colour: Pale yellow. Showing off some Highland colour.
Nose: Say hello to lemons, soft marshmellow and vanilla with a hint of sweet smoke and oats. Essentially, almost like deconstructed layers of lemon meringue pie. That combination is tinged slightly green and herbacious, before melting into a buttery, creamy embrace.
Palate: She starts out delicate and then gets bigger as both the spice and smoke develop into quite a compelling sweet caramel earthiness. Spice starts to emerge as distinct pepper and cinnamon. It feels complex because the lemon now becomes like a rich lemon curd sitting on top of that peat.
Finish: There’s a balance in this finish that I’d not had in the previous Ballechin. It’s smoky, deep, with tobacco leaves coming through but it’s effortlessly well supported by the citrus and spice notes. From nose to finish, there is a seamlessness to this whisky that is perhaps different from Islay malts, where the peat is so distinctive and often the only lingering central note.
by tashmcgill | May 20, 2016 | Drink, Opinion
Some things are just science: the chemistry of one ingredient matched with another produces a pleasurable result. People are like that too. Put them together in the right way and everything turns out for the best. Some are like fine wine or whisky, to be savoured singularly and slowly. Others shine when bumping up against others in the throng of a crowd.
Which brings me to cocktails and the delightful things that happen when delicious ingredients are shaken, muddled, thrown, stirred and strained together. Scotch whisky is notoriously difficult to use in cocktails – it’s robust, complex, sweet, savoury. It needs a precise touch and the right kind of chemistry for it to really shine. However, there are a few classics that not only stand up to Scotch whisky but cry out for single malt smoke and complexity. Enter Ardbeg. These are cocktails that really do sparkle with a little classic Ardbeg/Islay malt in the mix.
Why? Well, Ardbeg Night is just a few short sleeps away and while the Dark Cove promises to be delicious on its own, sometimes it’s fun to push a great spirit and bump it up against a few others. So these are my favourite Scotch cocktails, at least one or two of which I intend to enjoy on May 28th. A number of these cocktails are traditionally made using blended whiskies, but I’m here to vouch for our smoky, rich, peaty single malts and promise you, Ardbeg won’t be wasted on any of these recipes.
THE WHISKY MAC
The Whisky Mac is a lesser-loved cocktail, probably because it barely is one. Take equal parts Stone’s Green Ginger wine or a ginger liqueur of your choosing and serve over ice, with lemon zest if desired, usually in a wine glass or balloon. However, I like to get a little more aggressive and give it a little kick with an additional 15ml of my homemade lemon, ginger and cardamom syrup.all in a Boston over ice. Shake it to pieces, strain with a Hawthorne, serve in a rocks glass with a lemon peel twist and dash of Angostura bitters. This cocktail is often my first choice of drink as the nights get cooler and longer because the ginger and spice is warming. It stands up nicely to the smoky strength of Ardbeg Ten, too. It’s familiar, comforting and like a sigh of relief at the end of a hard day.
- 30ml Scotch whisky
- 30ml ginger wine
- 15ml lemon, ginger & cardamom syrup
- dash of Angostura bitters
THE PENICILLIN
Not quite as effective against the flu as actual penicillin but another drink that is apt for those chillier autumn nights. You could be forgiven for thinking the Penicillin must be as old as it’s namesake. But you won’t find it in the pages of the Savoy (an iconic cocktail recipe book). Instead, leap a little further ahead in history to New York in 2005. Legendary Sam Ross created the Penicillin Cocktail at Milk and Honey. He took ginger, honey and lemon flavours then hits it with blended Scotch, before floating a rich, smoky Islay malt on top. The original Penicillin uses Ross’ house-made honey and ginger syrup, but you can substitute fresh grated ginger and honey instead. Ginger can lose it’s zing pretty quick in a syrup, so going with fresh and straining well might be a more reliable result. It’s also best to create a simple syrup with the honey, by mixing equal parts honey and hot water. Simple! Here’s the more detailed recipe if you want to try this at home.
- 60ml blended Scotch whisky
- 22ml fresh lemon juice
- 22ml honey syrup
- 5 slices fresh ginger
- 7.5ml Islay single malt Scotch
Muddle the fresh ginger in the bottom of a cocktail shaker, really smash it up. Add the blended Scotch, lemon juice, honey syrup and fill shaker with ice. Shake well until icy. Strain into an ice-filled rocks glass and pour the single malt over the back of a bar spoon so that it floats on top of the the drink.
‘What whisky cannot cure, there is no cure for.’
BLOOD AND SAND
Probably one of the greatest Scotch whisky cocktails ever created, you will find the Blood and Sand in the pages of the
Savoy Cocktail Book. It was supposedly named for a 1922 silent film starring Rudolph Valentino as an ill-fated matador. The ingredients may surprise you slightly but if the Penicillin and Whisky Mac are set for autumn months, the Blood and Sand will sustain you through the dark corners of winter in a complex, rich embrace.
- 30ml Scotch – you can use a blend here but again, a robust single malt will stand up nicely
- 30ml fresh-squeezed orange juice
- 22ml sweet vermouth
- 22ml Cherry Heering
Pour all of ingredients in a cocktail shaker. Fill shaker with ice, and shake well for 10 seconds; strain into a chilled cocktail glass, and garnish with a cherry.
ROB ROY
A Manhattan may be one of the greatest cocktails I’ve ever met. Made with scotch whisky, the Manhattan becomes the Rob Roy. The recipe is more than a century old, and you can reassuringly order one everywhere from artisan cocktail bars with hand-carved ice to the beer and fries pub on the corner. It’s hard to mess up because it’s delightfully simple, but you mustn’t forget the bitters. Because it is so simple, it’s easy to kick this drink to the next level by upgrading some of the ingredients – use Carpano Antica Formula for example. I’ve messed with the bitters from time to time as well. And if you pick the right single malt, the Rob Roy will be accommodating enough to hold it’s own. Again, you need the complexity you might get from a big smoky, peaty rich Islay malt to balance the sweetness of the vermouth and the bitters.
- 60ml Scotch whisky
- 30ml sweet vermouth
- 2 dashes Angostura bitters
- Garnish: lemon or orange twist
Combine ingredients in a mixing glass and fill with ice. Stir well for about 20 seconds, then strain into a chilled cocktail glass. Twist a piece of lemon or orange peel over the drink and use as garnish.
MODERN No 2
Another classic from the Savoy cocktail book, the Modern No 2 pairs scotch with sloe gin, with dashes of absinthe, grenadine and bitters lending additional complexity. Given that sloe gin is back on the rise, it’s an ideal time to celebrate this complicated relationship. Plymouth Sloe Gin or The Bitter Truth Sloe Gin from Germany. Each has a natural tartness from using real sloe berries rather than artificial flavorings. They also have a bright potency of flavor, so it’s a good idea to use a scotch with a little gumption to it.
- 30ml Scotch whisky
- 60ml sloe gin
- 1 dash orange bitters
- 1 dash absinthe
- 1 dash pomegranate grenadine
Combine ingredients in a mixing glass and fill with ice. Stir until well chilled, about 20 to 30 seconds. Strain into chilled cocktail glass.
THE GODFATHER
This is a little extra for experts… because it’s almost not a cocktail, but surprises me with tastiness.
- 30ml Scotch whisky – smoky single malt, please
- 30ml Amaretto
This is an interesting drink, which made with a lesser Scotch would be too sweet to be palatable. Think of the Rusty Nail (Drambuie and Scotch) but with more complexity thanks to the smoke and richness of a solid single malt and the nuttiness of the amaretto. Try it just once, even if you hate yourself a little bit.
Ardbeg Day – Saturday 28th May
Stocks of Dark Cove will sell out super fast but you can purchase yours at any of the Embassies below or join me at The Jefferson, New Zealand’s only Ardbeg Embassy bar from 6pm to try the Dark Cove and maybe ask for a cocktail or two.
Auckland – House of Whiskey, 38 Courthouse Lane from 11am to 4pm, The Jefferson, 7 Fort Lane from 6pm til late
Wellington – Regional Wines, Beers & Spirits, 15 Ellice Street, Mt Victoria from 11am–4pm
Christchurch – Whisky Galore, 834 Colombo Street will be hosting Ardbeg Day come Night from 5:30pm- 8:30pm.
by tashmcgill | Apr 26, 2016 | Opinion
Whisky tastings are a vital part of whisky culture, whether you are brand new to the water of life or nearly embalmed in it.
Think of it as foodies going to dinner at new restaurants: it’s the only practical way to experience a broader range than what most of us have either the cashflow to support, the cupboard space or the company to indulge us.
Firstly, the best thing about any whisky tasting will always or should always be the stories. Tastings are a chance to really indulge in the history, quirks, legends and rare tales. A great host will both inform and entertain, as well as answer your questions. But there are a few kinds of tasting out there and people seem to want to know what to expect. I’ve tried to break it down to the style of tasting as well as the types of whiskies you might be trying.
Whisky Girl Fact #13: I’m most interested in helping you enjoy whisky whichever way you like, but you’ll struggle to convince me there is a better way of enjoying whisky than in the company of other whisky lovers.
There are group tastings and individual tastings but for the most part, I’ll talk about those ticketed events where you pay a set fee, for tasting a set number of whiskies. You’ll be in a group tasting and usually it’s pretty easy to either bring friends or make them at the event. I still believe firmly that a great introduction to whisky is best done at a bar one on one, so you have the chance to learn your own palate and taste, but a group tasting is a fun experience to share.
Expect 5 – 6 whiskies to be served in tasting drams. These are usually a half pour, because host responsibility matters. In fact, at some distilleries in Scotland recently, I was offered takeaway drams for tasting in plastic pottles. I have an opinion on that but it’s not for now.
You should also expect the host to guide you through the tasting process on the first dram, whether you’ve been tasting for years or it’s the first time. Whiskies will usually be tasted from the lightest and subtlest to the heaviest. Makes sense right? You don’t want to overwhelm your palate with peaty smoke and then taste a light Highland floral malt.
Expect some nibbles but nothing that will overwhelm the palate. Most common, cheese and crackers or breads. My preference when running a tasting is for a combination of dried fruit, contrasting cheeses, nuts and dried fruit – but I like to help the palate out a little.
Your average whisky tasting will cost between $50 and $85 in Auckland City. I’ve paid an overrated $US95 in Las Vegas and a distillery tour and tasting is usually in the vicinity (whether Scotland, Ireland or Kentucky) of $10-15 NZD.
What to look for: hosts and venues that make you feel comfortable. As I’ve written before, most whisky-lovers love to share their passion for the water of life with people. So look for those people. Facebook and Google will give you a good guide or find a local whisky lover to point you in the right direction.
How do you do it? The crux of it is, you pick one and go for it. Whisky lovers are a reasonably welcoming and accepting bunch. We are still basking in the relative joy of whisky being accepted as mainstream and cool again, thanks to Mad Men, Californication and Denny Crane. Pick a tasting and head along. Or take a friend and commit to learning as much as you can.
The 101 Tasting
These are great for learning the basics of how to nose a whisky (whisky-wank talk for smelling it), how to taste a variety of flavours. You’ll learn some language and the basics of how whisky is made or varies from region to region. However, pick wisely and remember that any good bar can give you the same personalised experience too. The danger of the 101 is the inevitable attendee who knows, or fancies they know just a little bit more than anyone else and feels the need to prove it to the host. In fact, this person is the antithesis of a good time at any whisky tasting but they appear like clockwork.
The Vertical Tasting
This is perhaps my favourite kind of tasting. A single distillery but a range of their expressions. I recently had a Jack Daniel’s vertical tasting that really opened my eyes to something new in the Rested Rye. Each distillery usually has a core flavour profile and unique finishes or small modifications to the recipe can provoke interesting new perspectives on that core story. Often, this is a beautiful way to get to know the work of a single master distiller. A vertical tasting might still include an independent bottling too. This is an ideal tasting if you’ve found a distillery you like, or to really learn in depth about a particular range.
The Regional Tasting
More particular to Scotch and world whiskies than the Americans, it’s not uncommon to gather a cluster of whiskies from the same region to compare and understand what nuances are happening between the distilleries as well as seeing their commonalities expressed side by side. Last week, I tasted several of the few remaining Campbeltown whiskies at the House of Whiskey monthly tasting. These tastings are interesting to pull together, to choose a range that can represent the region’s iconic profile (Islay’s is peat and phenols, Highland’s heather and honey, florals) and still tell a compelling story. Again, these are a great way to introduce yourself to a particular region and learn what you like or don’t like. In here, I bunch the Japanese or Irish tastings as they are generally not as broken down as the Scotch regions.
The Style/Cask Finish Tasting.
I’ve only ever been to one of these, but it was a mind-blowing flavour ride.
Whisky Girl Fact #12: I love sherry cask finishes. Love them beyond imagining. My favourite finish of all time.
A tasting of five sherry finished whiskies could be a regular Friday night, but this was also matched with chocolate, nuts and semi-dried fruits. We tasted rare independents. These tastings are good if you know what you like or if you are feeling brave. Not a place for starters, unless you like a place to prove your poker face. In this instance, I loved how exploratory the tasting was and the chance to try things super unusual.
The Distillery Tasting
There is nothing that compares to the thrill of opening a cask and pushing the valinch deep into the dark depths of that barrel to extract liquid gold. Or sitting with a master distiller who is introducing the new spirit or an experimental cask. Once you love whisky and it’s inside your bones, you must find a way to taste from a distillery whether in New Zealand, Scotland, Ireland, the US or Japan. There is nothing like drinking from the source.
Where to get started? Visit The Jefferson for their monthly social club tasting or the House of Whiskey for their monthly events in Auckland. In Christchurch, check out Whisky Galore’s schedule. Connect with Glengarrys Malt Club for more regular tastings too.
by tashmcgill | Apr 16, 2016 | Bars, Opinion
Let’s begin with something simple: I am not a reviewer. I am a storyteller. Sometimes in the process of telling you a story, I can tell you how something is and what I liked or didn’t like about it. But one meal of 1200 covers a restaurant might do in a week, is an inaccurate measure. I want to tell you stories of my experience and be a trusted voice in that regard, the same way you might trust me to introduce you to a whisky, cocktail or even a place to drink.
I take my friends to places I like to drink and hang out. And sometimes they say to me, ‘Oh, I wouldn’t be here or trying this if I wasn’t here with you.’ Well, that’s enough to make me blush and enough to make any bartender cringe – because that’s their job. And they don’t need me stealing the most enjoyable part of it.
And while I like introducing people to whisky, cocktails, great food and delicious wine, not everyone can have a personal Whisky Girl introduction or expansion of their palate, unless I kick off the Tuesday Night Whisky Club again (now there is an idea!). Nor can most bars afford to keep me on hand to entertain the clientele.
But there’s nothing stopping you satisfying your curiosity or pushing yourself to learn something new all on your own or even if you’re with friends – you just need to choose a great place and guide to get you started. So that’s the story I’m going to tell you today.
I am no stranger to the American airport bar; those miserable but hypnotic places where you drink nothing but Johnnie Walker beside road warriors and tech start-up guys. It’s perfectly natural to sit and order a drink at the bar; playing back those lines we know so well. Where you going? How many flights til home? Did you close the deal? Small talk about sports, the weather and politics, if you dare. Mostly, I travel alone and so a brief exchange of words is welcome. But these are not places you learn about new spirits, cocktails or wine.
Do you ever have those moments where you look up one day and realise what is completely normal for you, isn’t considered so by everybody else? Why wouldn’t I stop at the local after a long day of work and share some stories and laughs? Just because I’m a girl? And why wouldn’t my engagement and conversation with the bartenders be just as worthwhile and enjoyable as meeting friends? Maybe I watched a little too much Cheers growing up, but I suspect the truth is more about the kind of people I like to be around.
I have a few succinct and crucial values; kindness, strength, integrity, generosity, hospitality. And if people were word-nerds like I am, I would only have to say ‘hospitality, strength, integrity’ – because kindness and generosity are building blocks of hospitality’s definition. Geekery aside, hospitality is defined as ‘the kind and generous reception and entertainment of guests, visitors, or strangers.’
I believe hospitality is to welcome guests, friends and strangers into your spaces in such a way as they feel it is their space too.
So heading to places of hospitality alone whether to have a drink or to explore something new; feels normal and safe to me because these are my values. Hospitality is what I understand. I am hospo; despite having not been behind the bar or in the kitchen for more than 15 years, give or take. How do I know this? Because these are my people. Hospo are people who understand a plate or drink alone does not hospitality make and they are the original user experience professionals. The service, conversation and chat, atmosphere, speed and the warmth of a place must all enhance and highlight everything else to ensure the experience of the person in their space is exceptional. From owners and kitchenhands to celebrity chefs; they get it.
The strangest conundrum is that so many people might feel intimidated or out of their depth entering into spaces that have you so supremely at the centre. Here’s a little secret: most bartenders (and any hospo people) that love what they do, love sharing it with you.
So whether you want to explore some whisky, cocktails or meet some new wines from people who know what they are talking about and have something to teach you – or you just need a drink at the end of a long day – here are some tips for how to whisky and visit bars whether you’re alone or with friends.
*This theory also works just fine for eating alone, but that’s another story.
Visit Tuesday to Thursday. Friday and Saturday nights, bars fill up with people are there to scull, not to savour. Bartenders have a different job to do when the bar is full. It’s still service but it’s a different kind of service. But Monday to Thursday, it’s a pleasure for great bar staff to have customers to spend time with. Sunday and Monday are regular hospo nights off. So while a great place will always have great staff, play the odds and be in the bar when the best people are in the bar.
Choose a place that has what you want. Most great bars will tell you what they are – especially if they are a wine, cocktail or premium spirits bar. Facebook is your friend. If a place doesn’t tell you their specialty, it’s not the place to go. When you visit The Jefferson, for example – it’s very clearly a whisky bar. Nice wine selection, great cocktails including the classics and some good beer – but they’re about whisky.
The more questions you ask and the more you don’t know; the better. The less assumptions you have about what you will and won’t like, the broader and more interesting your experience is likely to be. Don’t be afraid to ask about anything you see or what to know – it’s easier for everyone to start the conversation that way. The less you know (or try to pretend to know), the more you’ll learn and no-one needs you to impress them with your whisky knowledge. Bars and restaurants are places that we want to stand out, but not at the cost of fitting in. Learning is fun, just like they told you in school.
Use your words and language, don’t worry about getting it right. Don’t worry about whether you’ve got the vernacular down. And if you can’t smell the iodine or the cut grass, or know the difference between a Whisky Sour or a Manhattan, just smile and file what you’ve learned in the database for next time. There’s nothing more satisfying than introducing someone to something new and having them appreciate it.
What to expect?
So you walk into the J and find a seat (I like the second or third seat from the left at the bar, just to the right of the beer taps). Someone is going to say hi, closely followed by a variation of the phrase ‘what would you like’. You’ll say something close to the following:
- Actually, I’d like a whisky (or whatever you’re interested in) but I don’t know much about it
- I’ve tried ‘insert name here’ before but I’d like to try something else
At this point, I’ll give you a caution – try not to say ‘what do you recommend?’ unless you’ve known the bartender so long, they have a clear idea of your tastes. That’s usually an investment of hours, months, years and several thousand dollars. Help them out by at least defining a category of drink.
Then the conversation will begin. All you have to do is answer questions, in your own words and being as honest as possible about what you know and don’t know, like and don’t like. What flavours you like, what you’ve tried before, what you’re interested to explore. There is a whisky for everyone and you have to think about you and bartender as a team, figuring out the puzzle and exploring together. The team want to ask you questions and help you find something. And if you don’t like what they pull off the shelf the first, they won’t be offended because they’ll keep trying til they get it right. Because; hospo.
by tashmcgill | Apr 2, 2016 | Opinion
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Whisky has something to teach even smart women (people). You can tell a smart woman (person) by if she knows that, or sees whisky as just another thing to be mastered.
Whisky might be the most romanticized spirit on the planet – more accessible than absinthe and more challenging than gin.
Whisky is part of cowboy folklore, Celtic heritage and appears in more genres of music than any other. Everybody who ever sang the blues, or rock’n’roll or country songs, sang about whisky probably more than they ever drank it. Every flawed hero of literature and television knows how to drink it and yet for all the saturation of whisky into our culture; I’ll bet it’s not enough alone to make you order a glass in a bar. We have these ideas about whisky, but we rarely talk about how to approach it, how to begin, how to introduce people to the concept of it. When we do, we talk about facts, flavor profiles and palate preferences and how to smell, taste and cut with water.
But that’s not the thing. That’s the thing after the thing. The thing to understand is the concept of what has been poured into your glass. It’s a story. It’s all that romanticized, stuff-of-legend that you imagine and a little bit more. You just have to start at the beginning, with the idea of what whisky is. If you can grasp the idea of it, you’re ready to drink almost any malt you find yourself in possession of.
Whisky is elemental; it is earth, fire, water and air each playing its part in telling you the story of a place. And it is soul, the spirit of the people who made it that finds its way into the glass as well. Eventually you’ll taste the alcohol volume, the sweetness, the salt, the floral notes – but first, know what you’re tasting.
Earth
The grain grown and harvested under utmost care. Like grapes for wine, if it gets too wet, too cold, too hot it can ruin the flavor profile. But barley carries the unique properties of the region it was grown in, as well as the very type of grain itself. Not all barley is suitable for malting, not all barley is of the right quality.
Fire
The heat of the mash and the malting of the grain over peat, or the scorching of those virgin oak barrels for bourbon with blistering heat. Temperature, its presence or lack of is a vital component of the story that ends up in your glass.
Water
Crystal clear from a Highland spring or silky from a limestone acquifer, water is unique as grain in its particular mineral composition and will make this whisky claim some geography too. The better the water, the better the whisky – after all, whisky is uisge beatha, the water of life.
Air
Invisible like the wind but you can taste the change the air makes. The heating and cooling of the air will expand and contract the barrels, pushing and pulling flavor from the wood to the whisky. Just as trees collect their stories in growth rings, barrels collect flavor in their reuse journey. Bourbon first, or sometimes sherry, a variety of red wines, port – each leaves a distinct impression in the wood and that is then passed to the whisky too. Where the air is particularly salty in a warehouse set against the sea, like on Islay – you can smell and taste the saline quality of that ocean storm.
Whisky is about its place and its people – where the earth, fire, water and air of that whisky can be found and the people who gathered it, tended it, turned it and blended it. Their stories, hardships and triumphs turned into the taste of sweet victory and the bitterness of a cold winter. A whisky takes on a spirit in the same way it gives away the Angel’s Share and you can taste it, if you just try. There’s a story in the glass, an expression of something.
Which is why you can’t argue that Scotch whisky is better than bourbon or rye, Japanese, Indian or even New Zealand whisky. Whisky is all the elements of wherever you are. Japanese whisky tells me a different story, about different mountains, grain and different water. And whisky drinkers should be lovers of story, first and foremost.
Now, there are plenty of people who will try telling you that story is about the alcohol percentage or the cask finish or whether or not it is a single malt, a blend, a non-age-statement whisky… but those are just signposts and markers that the story leaves behind.
A whisky tells its story by the paradoxes and complexities it can hold in amber suspension. A little savory while also sweet, a touch of bitterness that follows sweet floral roses. Umami notes of seaweed darting in and out of coffee and chocolate sherry notes that tease the tongue and that is just the beginning. When you begin, you might taste alcohol burn and nothing but peat even in the most delicate drops – but give it a little time and you’ll taste ocean currents, mountain passes, long summer days and winter storms.
So why should you drink whisky?
Because whisky can be as simple or as complex as you like. It can tell you a different story at any time of the day. It can be sweet and soothing when you want something simple, or as complex as a degustation when you feel like a challenge. Because whisky will demand your attention, quietly and persistently once it’s in the glass. Whisky will make you think and the more you think about it, the more it will reveal itself to you. Because whisky will share a story with you and invite you to tell one of your own – I have whisky for heartbreak, for triumph, for funerals and for lovers.
I was once told my love of whisky wasn’t particularly feminine. It seemed strange coming from a tattooist who draws half-naked women for a living, but apparently that makes you an expert on femininity. I was offended at the time (I was drinking a very reasonable Auchentoshan Three Wood that I nearly gulped) and perturbed for much longer.
Whisky has something to teach even smart women (people). You can tell a smart woman (person) by if she knows that, or sees whisky as just another thing to be mastered.
You see, this is where I will digress to romanticism for a moment. Of course whisky is a woman’s drink – if for no other reason than women make it and I, being all woman, drink it with passion and respect. I believe whisky itself is more feminine than masculine. It can be like a woman – warm and approachable one moment, artic the next. Complicated but still simple. Can be beautiful to look at but too sharp on the tongue to be savoured. But for a good one – a whisky or a woman, you go to the ends of the earth.
I drink whisky because I’m not afraid of complexity, of a challenge in the glass. In fact, too sweet or too simple and I might soon be bored. A woman who drinks whisky isn’t drinking to pass the time or just to escalate a party, because she’s very comfortable with the drink in her glass demanding some attention.
And yes, a woman who drinks whisky can be assured she can sit alone at a bar with confidence and conversation will find her if she wants it, or leave her well alone if she chooses. A woman who drinks whisky is still defying a needless stereotype and redefining her own rules of engagement.
A woman (or anyone) who drinks whisky isn’t afraid to go the distance and learn something new along the way. Not every whisky I taste for the first time wins me over, sometimes I have to work through layers of spice, heat, salt and fruit before I find the story the glass is trying to tell me – but I have patience and endurance, because women who drink whisky know that sometimes it just takes time. Whisky has something to teach even smart women (people). You can tell a smart woman (person) by if she knows that, or sees whisky as just another thing to be mastered.
Sometimes you have to learn something new. Too many people start drinking whisky in a sweet Jack’n’Coke or a Woodstock and Cola. Worse, they took shots of moonshine equivalent and haven’t touched it since. But just a little knowledge is dangerous; whisky is the drink of a life-long learner. You simply need a new story to go with your whisky.
When you learn to drink whisky properly, you learn to smell, then taste and taste again. You learn to know the story before you lift your glass and how you really can, cut it anyway you like with ice or water. You’ll cut it too far in order to pull out every drop of flavour for your tastebuds and olfactory to savour. You will learn the delight of a whisky sour, a Sazerac, the Manhattan, the Julep and that you most definitely do not require Coca-Cola. Whisky will teach you patience, to listen to more than words, to seek out new paradigms.
You will travel around the world and taste the earth, fire, air and water from far-flung corners of the world. From a glass of whisky, you can explore countless new territories without boarding a plane or catching a boat. Maybe that’s why you should drink more whisky, to see the world through different eyes and to learn stories other than your own. Stuck? I’ll take you for a drink and tell you a story or two.
