by tashmcgill | May 8, 2016 | Tasting Notes
There are many women without whom, the world of whisky as we know it, would not be the same. Bessie Williamson from Laphroaig, Elizabeth Cumming from Cardhu and one of my personal heroes, Margie Samuels of Markers Mark.
But there’s one you may not be so familiar with, whose story crosses oceans and social norms of the time and endures through a surprising but lasting legacy. Her name is Jessie Roberta Cowan, but everybody calls her Rita.
Masataka and Rita, father and mother of Japanese whisky
There’s a little more history and future history you need to know. Just after the end of the First World War, there was a young Japanese man who want to make whisky. Masataka Taketsuru would make his way to Scotland, where he would study chemistry in Glasgow and apprentice under the master distillers at Longmorn (Speyside) and eventually Hazelburn (now closed, in Campbeltown) distilleries. Eventually, the work that Masataka did in establishing Japan’s first true whisky distillery at Yamazaki would result in the Taketsuru Pure Malt (aged 17 years and named for Masataka) winning the World’s Best Blended Malt award at the World Whiskies Awards in 2015. The Yamazaki 18 year old won the Best Japanese Whisky award that year.
But what happened in between? In 1918, the Cowan family took Taketsuru in as a lodger and their daughter Jessie (known as Rita) fell in love with him. They formed a deep, strong bond and married just two years later. It was shortly after they married, Masataka was ready to return to Japan, with his English bride in tow.
As most things do, the dream of opening his own distillery took another decade to come to life. As Masataka was getting ready to start his distillery in Yoichi, the earliest beginnings of what would become Nikka, Rita’s role became vital. She provided not only emotional support but also financial during the hardest times. It’s said that through the networks she established teaching English and piano lessons, she helped find the investors that would form the company with Masataka. And throughout, even during the Second World War she embraced Japanese culture, speaking only Japanese and remained with Masataka, despite some hostility. Many Japanese people and the authorities made life challenging during that time, but Rita persevered. Even the distillery workers spoke on her behalf and defended her to those questioning whether or not she may have been a British spy.
Rita stayed and so did Nikka. The import ban of the War meant a boom for Japanese whisky and the distillery became very successful. Now, Japanese whisky has a well-earned place at the table for whisky lovers and shares a certain sense of determinedness with it’s Scottish ancestry. There is a shared story between these places and it centers on shared love – of malt and between a man and a woman.
Rita died in 1961 at the age of 63. Masataka lived another 18 years before he was buried beside his wife in August, 1979. But the mother and father of Japanese whisky live on in memory. The Japanese whisky business continues to boom and worldwide demand for their spirit is greater than ever.
So this is it. The Taketsuru Pure Malt (a non-age statement version). And here’s to drinking to a legend and a woman behind the bottle who loved and persevered. Happy Mother’s Day, Rita. Thanks for the malt.
There is a portion of this blend aged in sherry casks for richness, which comes through on the nose
Nose: There is a portion of this blend aged in sherry casks for richness, which comes through on the nose immediately. Then fruit – those typical sherry characteristics of plum and raisin, with the lighter notes of green apple, honey, cereal. There’s a hint of charcoal.
Palate: Sherry fruit, of course, that develops into chocolate, coffee and a hint of light cream and smoke at the end.
Finish: Smoky, grainy (the barley appears) and with a hint of that coffee bean.
by tashmcgill | May 4, 2016 | Tasting Notes
When I first started drinking whisky, it was simpler. I wanted to try everything I could lay my hands on but that wasn’t a vast range. Most of it was major brands that were instantly recognisable. As with most things though, over time your understanding deepens and you start to see with better eyes. I began to see labels that were nearly written in code, with colours, maps and distillery names I’d barely heard of. I started to see Douglas Laing & Co labels and I gazed at Cadenhead’s Small Batch with glee. Then I went to a tasting with one of my favourite independent bottlers, Sir Alex Bruce from Adelphi. It was the first Charles MacLean tasting I’d ever been to and probably the experience that cemented a deep appreciation of what the independent bottlers of the world do for whisky.
There are various types of distilleries: those that distill under contract for other brands, those that only make spirit for other blends or malts under a different brand or brands, those that make spirit for their own brand or brands. And any distillery might do any combination of these things. The more progressive distilleries will be experimenting with casks, fermentation, time and finishing treatments, the tried and true still to what they know. But almost all distilleries have this in common – a dedication to the profile of the whisky they make. So there are always casks that don’t make the cut; not for the sake of quality but because for whatever reason the Angel’s Share only knows, the cask simply doesn’t fit the profile or required flavour. These barrels inevitably make their way to independent bottlers. There are also rare, old and discontinued lines that produce casks sitting around. There is bargaining and trading that has gone on since before Prohibition when it comes to where whisky casks end up. But an independent bottler comes by a cask and releases it under their label, with varying degrees of information about where, what, how, when and why the whisky came to be.
There are secret bottlings too: usually a well-named and fanciful label that might give only a single clue as to the whisky’s origin. My favourite example was a outlandish monikered bottle that was made on the Isle of Skye. Well, truth be told it had to be a Talisker because there is only one distillery on the Isle of Skye. A bold trick for young players. For the most part the independent bottlers can be relied upon to find interesting and rare expressions of whisky at each part of the spectrum and not just clever marketing. Adelphi Selection, for example, only accepts 4% of what is offered to them – their standards so high for what they put under the brand.
Working on independent bottles is a wonderful way to try an interesting range of whiskies. Remember, that the iconic names you know and love are made to flavour profiles which leaves the world wide open for these other variant, divergent and fascinating casks to shine in their own way. There is more than one independent that relies on MacLean’s master nose and there are some larger companies that maintain their own independent bottling line also – Edradour Distillery and Signatory Vintage share an owner, largely because bottling was a good way to make money and pass time while they were waiting for their distillery license to come through. So when looking – know these are just a few of the major independents in addition to those not yet mentioned – Wemyss Malts, AD Rattray, Hunter Laing, Duncan Taylor, Gordon & MacPhail. Then there are the retailers that release their own bottles – The Whisky Exchange, Master of Malt and Berry Brothers and Rudd to name a few.
Now to the independently bottled whisky in question – this is a tasty and interesting number bottled by Gordon & MacPhail Whisky – a 1993 Glendullan. You may never have heard of Glendullan, but suffice to say it’s a Speyside distillery. It’s one of the distilleries that produces all its malt for a brand called “The Singleton” and it’s primarily aimed at the US market of whisky drinkers. Glendullan releases nothing under it’s own name and they don’t even have a visitors centre. They are all but silent, owned by Diageo. I’ve tried The Singleton and it’s a very acceptable Speyside drop. This bottle however, was much more fascinating. For starters, it was aged in a refilled Sherry Hogshead. Again, sherry cask and Speyside on my radar but this went in a very different direction than last week’s GlenDronach 1972. Nicely though, it was first opening on this bottle too.
Colour: Light gold, really light in the glass for something that old.
Nose: Super light and delicate nose, pears and hints of banana.
Palate: Immediately hot in the palate before getting very sweet and malty. Almost a warm baked bread element in a very medium body drop.
Finish: The pepper and spice adds to a long drawn out finish, with the hint of creaminess at the very end you’d expect from a Sherry Hogshead.
by tashmcgill | Apr 29, 2016 | Tasting Notes
There are several types of whisky drinkers you will encounter on your whisky adventure. A dozen variations on each, but there are a few core characteristics that emerge again and again. The Big Man, The Brand-lover, The Brand-geek, The Booze Head, The Booze Bargainer, and The Big Spender. You can read more about those later, but not a one of these stereotypes was worthy this week.
But by chance or orchestration, I was.
By many definitions (most of them humanitarian), I am a wealthy woman. But not in the world of whisky. I choose my bottles for home carefully, I drink to a budget – most of the time. Some of the most extravagant and delicious treats I’ve enjoyed through the generosity of a kind friend. But sometimes, you know something precious is within your grasp so you make a plan to have it. I am the determined type of girl that usually finds a way to achieve the goal. So since I learned there was a bottle in the hands of my local bar, I’ve been making a plan to taste a once-in-a-lifetime whisky and hoped to be … worthy of it.
The Once In A Lifetime Unicorn Whiskies.
Not everyone has the same definition of once in a lifetime. Nor do they have the same requirements for a unicorn (so rare or hard to find it may not exist or come close to your hand during your lifetime) whisky. You probably know by now, how much I love the sherry cask. And the PX sherry cask is the favourite of them all. I’m drawn to those initials like a child in starlight, eyes wide and hopeful. I also love Speyside whiskies and I especially love unusual techniques and experiments. So drinking from the cask at Bruichladdich or tasting a rare, old malt in a hotel pub with the proprietor, these are experiences I treasure. My unicorn experiences and then, there are the unicorn bottles.
A Port Ellen 1979.
An original Octomore.
A Mortlach 25 year old single malt.
And a GlenDronach 1972.
The Facts.
GlenDronach is on the edge of the Speyside and Highlands region. Distilled on the 28th of February, 1972 and put to bed in a Pedro Ximenez Sherry Butt for 43 years, before being bottled in August 2015. Bottle 171 of 414. The oldest bottling in the 12th batch of single cask releases. It was bottled at 51.1% ABV.
Until Wednesday, GlenDronach was part of the BenRiach Distillery Company, which also owns Glengassaugh. Under the watchful eye of Billy Walker, they have produced fascinating wine finishes and explored new territories. Wednesday night, it was announced that BenRiach will be purchased for a large sum by Brown-Forman. You may not know Brown-Forman by name, but you will know it’s cornerstone brands; Jack Daniel’s and Woodford Reserve.
This whisky by virtue of its heritage, age, cask and region was always going to be delicious. I’ve read of previous cask releases and it was going to push up my vertical understanding of what GlenDronach is all about.
There is plenty of chat in the whisky world right now about what will happen to these distilleries. Of course I’m curious about the old remaining stock – but for now, here’s what I tasted, on the night GlenDronach’s future changed again.
Nose: Tobacco, herbs, spice and warm chocolate, on a base of soft plum and raisins.
Palate: Buttery fruit cake with deep, rich raisins, graced with smoky orange notes and gentle round hazelnuts with that chocolate hint again.
Finish: The oak emerges from a deep, sweet cream finish and the tobacco returns gently.
The Story.
The Jefferson announced the bottle was ready to be sold, so then it was just a matter of timing. This cask is sold out worldwide, at a regular bottle price of £780 thereabouts. You can imagine the dram price and enquire at the bar if you need t0.
To indulge, I needed to find myself worthy of it first, so achieving a wee personal milestone was an internal mark. Then the moment needed to be right – I, at peace, and the price set aside having earned it literally and figuratively. In the end, all it took was a little provocation. The right set of witnesses (I do love an audience) and the appropriate mood.
What is worthy? To understand the value of this whisky is not the price. Not the admiration or disbelief of the observers, or the approval of the owner, who had to retrieve it from safe-keeping. Although, momentarily I wondered if he would allow me the pleasure. ‘Are you sure?’, he asked several times.
Yes, I’m sure. Certain that the small, slow rotation of opening that bottle will stay with me like every other small triumph. I had hoped the fates would align that I could claim my taste of the GlenDronach before it sold out. Turns out, I was the first and then in quick succession they sold four more pours.
I want to say ‘Of course, because I made magic in the air with my desire and knowing of it. Of course, they were drawn to taste it too.’
It was probably coincidence.
Those tasting notes are just flavours. To me, it was magic under the guise of a regular Wednesday night. My secret desire of that molten paradise, taste of indulgence, the thrill of earning this pleasure and having it mine alone for a moment. The certainty and cementing of a recent lesson learnt with the aroma and taste of something magical on my tongue. That is worthy. The realisation of my intention and sheer celebration of something beautiful, fleeting and momentarily mine.
The bottle is now open at The Jefferson. Go be worthy and enjoy some magic, too. It won’t last long.
by tashmcgill | Apr 27, 2016 | Tasting Notes
The sun is shining out of a brilliant blue sky as I wind through the curves of lower west Scotland. I have driven north and west from Glasgow, through the towns my forefathers and mothers came from and now I am heading down the Kintyre Peninsula. Already I have crossed a high pass and seen mountain lakes glistening in the light, which is cool and warm at once. Eventually, I’ll arrive at Kennacraig to catch the ferry to Islay, but first I have an appointment with history.
My soul is leaping, dancing with recognition – my ancestors have left their sight of this place in my DNA and bloodstream. I have come home to the place we departed from and my body recognizes the land from which it came, both sides of my family from this Scottish soil. When I first began my independent journey into whisky, no longer guided by patriarchs, I encountered a Campeltown whisky that I was too inexperienced to deserve but I enjoyed it nonetheless. It was a rare bottle of the Springbank 175, an anniversary bottling from 2003. The family-owned stalwart and remnant of the once vibrant distillery community. Now one of three that remain of some 28 or so distilleries, Springbank produces three distinct malts; Spingbank, Hazelburn and Longrow. Glen Scotia remains also, with Glengyle reopened and producing Kilkerran malts.
I visit Springbank and Glen Scotia on that day, driving hours through shared one-way roads to reach the harbour of Campbeltown and the vestiges of Skipness Castle. The coast is isolated, the grass is green. The land is slowly waking up after a long, cold and wet winter but the landscape is achingly beautiful. I dip my hands in the salty, brittle ocean and smell the sea. With my eyes, I see what I imagined when I first tasted that remarkable Springbank malt. A hard place, touched by economic struggle but with a strong spirit. A place that makes beautiful things from what they have in their hand.
A few weeks later, I’ve crossed over that ocean west-ward even further and returned to the land my forefathers finally called home. They sailed, I flew but we land in New Zealand all the same. I still smell the ocean in the morning when I walk to work and as the skies darken on winter’s approach, I taste the sweet persistence of Campbeltown malts again; at the monthly House of Whiskey tasting.
There are the usual suspects gathered and a few new faces but the evening is full of laughter and stories. Sam and Nigel have trod the same path to visit these remarkable places.
#1 – Glen Scotia 10 year old, 46% abv: It’s the colour of a heavy, oily chardonnay with a nose of salted caramel, taffy and creamed honey with a hint of white pepper and rose. The palate opens up with pears and apples, green juicy fruits, light smoke and green grass. Finishes with a peaty grain on the back of the tongue.
#2 – Kilkerran WIP Sherry finish, 46% abv: Light amber in colour, the nose is initially smokey, giving way to instantly recognisable cream and butterscotch over rich fruit. It’s a sherry cask after all. On tasting, it becomes much spicier – but more confusing with less distinguishable fruit characteristics. I couldn’t pick berries from cherries, but it was rich and dry before becoming nutty on the finish.
#3 – Kilkerran WIP #7 11 year old, 46% abv: Delivers a big bourbon nose with vanilla, honey and orange peel. I’m imagining old-fashioneds already, but this probably wouldn’t stand up to it. The palate is a brief dance of light cinnamon, caramelising sugar before racing to a grainy finish and almost evaporating in the mouth. It promised so much more on the nose than it delivered on the tongue.
#4 – Glen Scotia 1992/2011, 43% abv: First nosing is perplexing with the high contrast of oils and floral notes but on the tongue it gives so much complexity. Crisp pastry (high butter content) with toasted oats and the grain coming through. There’s a faint creamy sweet note around the edges but this is a decidedly savoury-sweet whisky, It finishes toasty and warm. I would drink it all night long for it’s uniqueness.
#5 – Springbank 18, 46% abv: We’re at the gritty end of the tasting and my memories come flooding back. This is made using the Springbank 2.5 distillation method and it’s peated to around 22-25ppm. The nose is smoked cheddar (I’m not joking), followed with subtle toffee and creaminess. Into the mouth and it explodes with nuttiness, butterscotch, dried fruits – raisins on the deep end and then the re-emergence of pears and green grapes. This whisky finishes with its big peaty profile and it feels like a bridge between the Highland style and Islay. And that’s Campbeltown, in so many ways for me.
#6 – Longrow 18, 46% abv: The Longrow is still a relatively new romance for me, but we’re getting closer. 100% Oloroso casks so it was easy to predict my attraction. The nose is vanilla and a hint of spice, which delivers on the palate with spiced stewed pears and apples, raisins soaked in rum and a honeyed sweetness. The finish is all Oloroso – long, smooth, creamy til the last moment.
by tashmcgill | Apr 26, 2016 | Tasting Notes
It’s a Thursday night and I’ve just finished my first day back in the office after a month overseas. I’ve been landed for just over 24 hours. If you don’t need a whisky then, I don’t know when you do. Except tonight, I’m not drinking whisky, I’m drinking whiskey.
Whisky Girl Fact #17: I’m not precious, I treat all spirits equally. In fact a fair portion of the time, I reach for bourbon or rye before Scotch. I go on Bourbocation with my friends that live in the South of the US. I’ve been to a decent chunk of the Bourbon trail. Whisky or whiskey, with or without an E, whisky by any measure is just fine with me.
Where was I? Oh, yes. At The Jefferson, getting reacquainted with a favourite watering hole and sitting down to taste a selection of Jack Daniel’s finest. Tennessee Whisky holds a special place in my heart, after all, Nashville is a home away from home.
The joy of doing a vertical tasting like this is getting to experience several of the expressions side by side. I always think of Jack Daniel’s as the sweeter, more mellow and rounded than other bourbons. That probably comes from the unique charcoal filtering method they use. Sometimes they even use it twice. Despite the insane 1980s and 90s product placement that saw ‘Jack’n’Coke’ reach iconic popularity as beverage of choice, Jack has always had a little more story than that. The legends are numerous and that’s my other favourite thing about tastings. You get to hear the stories, not just from the hosts but often the punters too.
I was not disappointed – people talked about old buddies who traded for bargains during the war, speculated on where Old No.7 got it’s name and passed conjecture on the smaller details of Jack’s life. He was an interesting character for sure, essentially inheriting the business and way of life as a boy, never marrying and working his way around regulations and restrictions. Jack Daniel’s still resides in a dry county today. America can sure be weird sometimes.
To tasting; brief notes this time.
Gentleman Jack: From time to time in winter, I’ve been known to keep a bottle of bedside bourbon. This boy has made the cut a few times. Sweet, mellow and smooth, it benefits from double charcoal filtering but carries a rich complexity with fruit and spice notes.
Single Barrel Select: One of my favourites of the night, these barrels are individually selected as the name suggests, usually for their pronounced and distinctive notes. Vanilla, toasty oak, caramel. These are achieved at such depth because the selected barrels are aged in the highest heights of the warehouse, where more extreme temperatures pull every micron of flavour out of the wood and into the spirit.
Old No. 7: The traditional Jack. Sweet vanilla and a hint of oak coming through that first fill. Lighter and less rich than the previous two examples but still smooth. Not a go-to whiskey for me, but when tasted in the line-up you can start to see the distinctive Jack Daniel’s flavour profile pulling through.
Rested Tennessee Rye: (Whisky Girl Fact #18: I love rye. With a passion. Could drink rye and only rye for months at a time.) This was my other favourite of the night. The traditional Jack Daniel’s notes are there – vanilla and caramel. But the rye gives a nutty spice to it. This release follows an earlier 2012 release of unaged rye. It caused quite a stir at the time, but these barrels have aged for two years to unarguably qualify as straight rye. It was delicious. Lighter in colour than you’d expect, but very sumptuous. It’s made it to my ‘buy it if you see it’ list.
Jack Daniel’s Sinatra Select: Possibly one of the greatest brand partnerships to ever be created from the age of Mad Men, Frank Sinatra was rarely seen without Jack Daniel’s to hand. The Sinatra Select is a special release. To be honest, it didn’t wow me – because it stood out as so different from the flavour profiles we’d been seeing elements of the whole night. Big, robust and spicy in parts – it did feel like kissing Sinatra on one of his bad days.
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by tashmcgill | Apr 26, 2016 | Tasting Notes
Edradour is one of those whiskies for me. From first taste of their Natural Cask Strength bottling, I fell in love with what was once the smallest distillery in Scotland, until it was outshrunk by Strathearn. That expression is an Oloroso-cask aged for about 13 years, leaving a sweet, creamy and delicious dram with caramel and dried fruit notes. Hits you with orange peel and Christmas cake.
Edradour also happens to be the oldest working farm distillery and there are some that say being a smaller distillery is actually an advantage. No matter how the economy turns or what challenges you face, you can adapt and move with the market quickly. That certainly seems to be the case for Edradour. She has passed from owner to owner with a fair amount of history and intrigue, but now is shepherded by Andrew Symington, a Master of the Quaich. Edradour continues to make traditional ‘farm whisky’, in addition to some innovative and interesting malts.
One of which is this, the Ballechin 10 year old. Edradour is a typically unpeated malt, so interesting things always happen when you take something standard and mess around with it. The name ‘Ballechin’ is from another distillery from the same area as Edradour, Pitlochry in Perthshire. It’s nice to not lose these names entirely to history.
Colour: Light, pale gold.
Nose: Smoky. Edradour are not just waving the malt over the peat fire, they’ve given it some time and love. It moves to something green and herbal on the nose too.
Palate: Hello grain and smoke. Then it rounds out around the edges, the sweet sugars kick in. At one point, it was almost like tasting a tequila, the sense of agave sugars so present. Then a little sweet almond until the grain comes in. Chewy, like a good sourdough. Nutty and toasty and oaty.
Finish: Long, smoky grains. Like cracking barley between your teeth.
