Proof reading: Springbank 100 and Glenfarclas 105 Proof

My source of true happiness

I am someone who enjoys a certain robust-ness (if I can coin the word) about life. I've always trekked, climbed and crawled through the Great Outdoors, I like hearty rustic meals and I drink whisky (cue nodding approval). Of course, this is not to say I don't enjoy the finer things in life, like fine cuisine; wines of the Loire valley; and newsnight, but nothing brings me home like rain; bangers and mash; and a glass of cask-strength whisky. The immediate assumption that can and maybe should be made is that I am over-compensating. A scrawny lad inclined towards trivia and unable to drive testosterone enhancing cars needs something to bolster his faltering masculinity. Hanging from ropes and swigging Scotch might seem like a pathetic attempt at a fetish lifestyle, but it is my hook. The thing I hang my somewhat bookish and overly-curious lifestyle on. The thing is if you tell someone over a massive pub lunch that you throw your life to the hands of Fate as a hobby whilst simultaneously chucking back Scotch like the tomorrow you implore you will never experience you can just about compensate for a failure to understand what Manchester United is.

The problem with this mindset is that I become more and more inclined to do stupid things for the sake of respect from men who can place a spherical object at the back of a net, whilst drinking stronger and stronger whisky whenever possible to show off my liver's ab muscles. The day when I finally combine the two could be quite interesting. So... what is it about cask-strength whiskies that appeal so much aside from their testosterone enhancing properties? Well for me they add weight to a whisky, if you drink a cask strength whisky you tend to know about it. The flavour hammers you like a mallet made of lead. Better still that higher ABV pulls the flavour through with a rabid intensity. But I think what is most appealing is attempting to identify flavours through a haze of spirit. Today's review is the Springbank 100 proof and the Glenfarclas 105 proof. Two 10 year old cask strength whiskies offering very different things. Now pass the toad-in-the-hole and that kayak.

Springbank 100 Proof
57% - 10 Years Old
Nose: Butterscotch and marzipan accompany the rhubarb and grape I get from all Springbank whiskies, with a dash of dried apricot and a whiff of tobacco to finish.
Palate: Dried apricots, peat and spice layer on top of burnt toffee notes.
Finish: Robust and going down fighting, a hot mix of toffee and smoked chili.
Overall: This whisky tastes like Springbank invaded. Every thing I could want from Springbank with a fierce heat to match. Now I just need to get some of the 12 year cask strength...

Glenfarclas 105 Proof
60% - 10 Year Old
Nose: Elderflower and caramel give way to chocolate raison and then to fruit bowl notes with an organic freshness present throughout.
Palate: Very alcoholic, honey and malt with a clear sherry presence, takes to water very well.
Finish: A blend of sherry and mead, becoming silky when water is added bringing out lemony notes.
Overall: Big, fresh and fruity, I think this high ABC beast actually benefits from plenty of water, does my manhood hang in the balance because of this dastardly confession?

Blogger to Blender...

A little while back I let my arrogance get the better of me. I foolishly thought that blending whisky must be easy and could be done in an afternoon. Buoyed up with thoughts of being the next Richard Paterson I set about my vain work. The concept was simple, make a blend combining the flavour profiles of three of my favourite (apologies for the f-word) distilleries: Talisker, Highland Park and Springbank. I set up my tools; an array of pipettes, Glencairns and some tongue stretches to get my palate loosened up. Having never attempted blending whisky before and caught up in the excitement of the moment I didn’t really think through the intricacies of making a blend, my foresight went as far as to record quantities used (that I later lost) and to include a grain whisky, as a blend would of course be a combination of both single malts and grain whisky. What I hadn’t considered was firstly that most bottles of whiskies are already an optimum blend of different casks, secondly that alcohol is a volatile substance and therefore some whiskies would not combine and thirdly that blends are usually allowed time to vat to become a whole. Okay, technically there was a fourth element I had completely forgotten in my fervour to become the next blending giant and that is that I don’t know what I’m doing. Having forgotten all of this I set about my task.

For all of my glaringly obvious mistakes I did have myself a very fun afternoon. I used Cameron Brig and another single grain whisky for the grain element of my blend then I went in heavy on the Talisker 10 year old. After tasting it later it became apparent that I should have held back on the Talisker as it clashed the most with the other flavours. I waded on adding equal quantities of the Springbank 15 year old and the Highland Park 12 year old. This is when it started to go wrong. In an effort to combat the increasingly bitter flavour the blend was taking on I began adding a variety of different malts to balance out the flavour, including Glenfarclas 30 year old and MacAllan 12 year old. The idea behind the Glenfarclas was to add some age and depth to the blend, whereas the MacAllan was supposed to soften out the bitterness; instead it overpowered the constituent parts. In a moment of inspiration I added Longrow C.V. that actually married quite nicely giving the blend a touch of smoke and I reckon complimented the Springbank quite well. After adding a few more bits and bobs and tinkering with the quantities I was forced to admit defeat. Dr. Jekyll had morphed into Mr. Hyde. So below I provide the tasting notes for my humbling blending attempt.

Peatreek Blend 1.0
Blend – No Age Statement
Nose: The nose was surprisingly wholesome and was the only part of the blend that actually worked. A lovely maltiness arrives first with waves of sea breeze and light fruits, with apple wood smoke drifting behind. Underneath is a touch of caramel and vanilla that plays quite nicely with the malty foreground. This blend has a nose of two parts: Coastal malt and sherried Speyside.
Palate: Bitter, Talisker dominated and fought a bloody battle with a squabbling opposing army. Truly horrid.
Finish: The bitterness now comes in waves, reminding me of my own idiocy. On the other hand a slight toffee-ness allows for a brief respite.
Overall: A sharp learning curve and a lot of fun. This is by no means my last attempt and next time I will bear in mind what I forgot this time. I will probably use single cask whiskies so that I am working with purer ingredients. I won’t be quite so selfish as to include all of my top whiskies and next time I will let it marry for a time to give the flavours a chance to settle in. Watch this space for future updates…

Out with the old, in with the new? Glenfarclas 1961 Family Cask and Great King Street: Artist’s Blend

My monoprint of my
ever suffering girlfriend.

Last weekend I braved the caterpillar slow trawl along the Southbank in the Thameside heat, dressed in shirt and tie, to experience the extravaganza that is the Vintage Show at the Royal Festival Hall; a hotpot of style, fashion and bad hair. After braving a queue for my determined girlfriend to get made up 1950s stylee (we managed two hours before she gave up), we experienced a myriad of decades under one roof. From 40s Lindy Hop to a 80s warehouse rave with dry ice and strobe lighting in ecstatic abundance. From Emin inspired monoprinting to ration-era upcycling. However amongst this fashion show come jumble sale, ‘we’re in a recession lets turn this jacket into a bag’ excitement, I began to question myself. Is there too much concentration on the retro, the old school and the past, and does this apply to whisky?

We all find comfort in the certainty of the past and revel in nostalgia. That’s what makes old whisky great. It isn’t just the depth of flavour that a 30, 40 year whisky can have, it’s the knowledge that it has sat slowly minding its own business whilst the world has changed and rocketed about it. One such whisky I had the pleasure of tasting, courtesy of the ever entertaining and interesting George Grant of Glenfarclas, is the 1961 Glenfarclas Family Cask. Bottled in 2010 this 49 year old whisky was immense, and all the better for knowing it had seen out the Cold War, the Winter of Discontent and 90s breakdown rap. Here’s what I thought:

Glenfarclas 1961 Family Cask:
46% - Bottled 2010
Nose: Rich dried fruit notes balanced with the presence of sherry wood with overtones of varnish and a cherry/oak hybrid.
Palate: Full and oaky, but perhaps a tad tired from the time spent in the barrel.
Finish: Long with that classic sherry presence emerging again, but also a little shorter than I expected for such an aged whisky.
Overall: Despite being ever so slightly over oaked, this is an incredible whisky. Big in flavour, beautiful mahogany in colour and steeped in history, this is a whisky that deserves respect for its age alone if not for it massive punchy flavour.

However. This is not to say that there isn’t too much emphasis placed on highly aged whisky, and too much on the old and pure. Compass Box have released their inaugural blend of their new Artisan Range: Great King Street, named after the location of their Edinburgh premises. It aims to provide something that will attract new people to whisky and having tried it I can see why.

Great King Street: Artist’s Blend:
43% - No Age Statement - Bottled by Compass Box
Nose: Banana and marshmallows create a soft aroma that is borne upwards with a citric twang of lemon that insures that this whisky has plenty to offer.
Palate: Very light with bananas doused in single cream with a touch of lemon zest.
Finish: Unsurprisingly with its soft attributes and lightness on the tongue it has a fairly short but not abrupt finish but in no way is this a criticism.
Overall: Light remaining the word here, this is a whisky that has potential to entice new people into the haven of whiskydom, but regardless of this I may still get a bottle as it has something pleasantly enjoyable about it that is unpretentious and new. A whisky that looks forward can only be a good thing for fans of the spirit, and Compass Box, as always, are blazing a trail for us all to follow.