What Women Want... Inverleven 1991

Living with girls is always a challenge, scratch that, it’s a war. That’s why I didn’t write: ‘Living with the fairer sex,’ because that implies there is balance. Those of us who abide with them will know that it is a battle hard fought. I have drawn my battle lines carefully: I have a one-cushion-on-the-sofa-only policy; I have set fire to two throws; and I have a blanket ban on pink bed sheets (no pun intended). However these trenches that I have dug have easily been flanked, I have had discussions on the technical differences between a cushion and a pillow, skirmishes on the distinction between a throw and a quilt and I have engaged in heavy artillery fire over the similarity of pink and magenta. Furthermore there is a calculated campaign of psychological warfare being launched simultaneously. I start to doubt myself, is the smell of beer, dust and trench foot really better than flowers and cleanliness? I tell myself it is yet I still put the loo seat down.

This is not to suggest that the war is lost, I have made noticeable gains. Notably at the Battle of Tea-Pot Pass (I refuse to drink tea, it all tastes like stale water, even if my girlfriend has two dozen boxes of so-called different flavours) and again victory at the Fall of the Vindaloo Embargo. Of course I have been to the UN over these human rights atrocities and over the others; such as being forced to put things back in their place at gunpoint (okay not gunpoint but her eye was twitching) and worst of all being coerced into the ‘girly day’ where my face was plastered with a clay-and-pumice mask, and my nails varnished.

So where does this leave me? With one final bastion. Whisky remains the source of my power it is with whisky that I can fortify my troops, while drinking it plan my advances and I have even got my girlfriend drinking it. Whisky represents the dugout from which I will launch my retaliation. Except for one problem, I have found a whisky that is taking on the characteristics of the bath bombs that fall about my position… and I like it.

Inverleven 1991
40% - Bottled in 2010 by Gordon & MacPhail
Nose: Heather and flowers combine with caramel and summer fruits to create a potpourri essence with further notes of biscuit and lavender and a touch of orange.
Palate: Intense parma violet sweets with a light mouth feel and just a smidgeon of sherry.
Finish: A burst of red fruits with that parma violet character coming through again and maybe a touch too short?
Overall: A very floral Lowland whisky from a closed distillery. The nose was fascinating reminding me of floral heather in the summertime and the flavour was immensely drinkable. If the battle of the sexes is leading us here then I am willing to admit defeat. I might even get Ellen to review this whisky tomorrow (although bizarrely she likes big smoky whiskies defying any notion of effeminate drams).

Sláinte!

The Subjectivity of Tasting… Glendronach Revival

Do you see faces or a glass?

Subjectivity is something that makes the world a more vivid and vibrant place. It is a force that drives discussion and debate and forms the context of the world we live in. A concept both flawed and personal, we wouldn't be human if we didn't form our own opinion of the world around us. For me, the most interesting facet of subjectivity is our perception of what we sense. Green Blob Theory is something that sums this up quite nicely: How do we know what you see as a dog and we both call a dog, doesn't look like a green blob if you looked through my eyes. Or put more simply, is what we both call orange the same colour?

I think this is very interesting and after some thought I came to the realisation that I could test this. Writing tasting notes for alcohol demonstrates it quite nicely. The reason for this is because what we taste in whisky and wine are esters and acids that form the flavour profile. For example, if you taste lemon in a dram then it is probably the citric acid content of the drink that is giving you that flavour. Of course tasting high alcohol beverages isn't as clean cut as that. There are so many chemicals knocking around in a glass of whisky that it is quite difficult to differentiate between them. This is the reason why tasting notes can differ so much. Some flavours are obvious; an Ardbeg tastes smoky to everyone, except those with the most warped palates, because of its high phenol content. So in essence, tasting notes become buzzwords that remind us of a particular flavour. Some aren't particularly pleasant, cat's piss is a common one for some sauvignon blancs, and it isn't even a critical tasting note. Conventions do occur, this is why you'll see similarities across tasting notes until you get occasions such as a conversation I had recently when one person got a complex leathery quality and the other (me) got car tyre.

So back to my test…

On hearing that the irrepressible Robert Manning who judged my tasting competition a few blogs back (see here), had tried the Glendronach 15 year old a couple of nights back, I went out to get a sample for myself. We then both wrote our tasting notes down ready for comparison. The idea being to see what similarities and differences there would be. Clearly there isn't much experimental control going on here but for the sake of whimsy we persevered. Here are our notes, starting with my own:

Glendronach Revival
46% - 15 Years Old - Sherry Cask 
Nose: A fruit driven nose of raisins and sultanas with raspberry and blackcurrants. Cabernet sauvignon is also present giving this woody whisky a stern backdrop.
Palate: The sherry wood is very apparent with dark fruits, dry leaves and a hint of ash adding to the Revival's rich intensity.
Finish: Port is the flavour that jumps to mind with that cabernet sauvignon appearing again with a dose of red currants.
Overall: Richer and more overpowering than the 'Dronach 12 year old. Maybe a touch too much wood for my liking although I'd say that is personal preference only. A masterclass in whisky making.

Rob's:
Nose: Dry sherry, and the bitter sweet aroma of cherries and summer fruits complimented by a biscuit-like maltiness.
Palate: Fruit cake, dried fruits with fresh citrus undertones and sweet toffee abide alongside a small hint of oak.
Finish: Fresh summer fruits and chewy toffee accompanied by a crescendo of malty liveliness.
Overall: Unlike any other whiskey in my tasting arsenal to date. Probably the smoothest dram I've had in a long while. Very fruity and sweet with a nice malty flavour. Christmas cake is the analogy of choice when describing this particularly morish dram.

Us camping above Dalwhinnie
with a cigar (midgie repellent!)

So in conclusion you can see some obvious differences: I got dry fruits whereas Rob got summer fruits on the nose; and on the palate I got that very dry woody quality whereas Rob was gathering citrus undertones and lots of toffee. Despite this there are some clear similarities; the dried fruits I got on the nose appear on Rob’s palate. Also, those summer fruits that keep recurring for Rob do pop up in mine in the form of raspberries and red currants. The unambiguous sherry presence was identified by the pair of us. What is most interesting is that Rob got a much sweeter flavour profile than mine. For me there are a few interesting factors that can be deduced from this. Firstly, the similarities didn’t necessarily occur to us at the same time, where one of us got a note on the nose the other would get it on the palate. Secondly, the sweet to dry ratio of the tasting notes clearly is subject to individual perception. Although I would say I was comparing quite to the 12 year old, which is sweeter still, so maybe this explains part of the difference. Finally, what is most interesting for me is the different language we both use to describe the whisky. Rob and I discovered whisky together so I assumed we would have picked up the same buzzwords for the same flavours, this clearly wasn’t the case. Then again perhaps all that is important is that we both enjoyed it. The Glendronach 15 year old is a fantastic whisky as indeed all the Glendronachs are. So, where to go from here? Clearly one whisky isn’t enough to draw absolute conclusions from so in the interests of science I have posted Rob a Glendronach 18 year old, so watch this space for the next chapter of this experiment! I would also be interested if anyone has any conflicting tasting notes and welcome them to comment below.

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…

The Prince or the Pauper? Dalmore King Alexander III

Monarchy is something that divides people. There are those who see the divine appointment of a despot as a sword in the side of the people; a system of oppression and feudal poverty to be overthrown by a popular (and smelly) movement of the peasants ahem… people. To others monarchy is something magical, they see it as a world of chivalry, glamour and Prince Harry’s glorious red cheeks. Whatever your views are on monarchy it is hard to get away from the connotations of knights in armour and gallant kings riding into battle or pulling swords out of standing stones. If anything the ideas of monarchy are an escape from reality, an escape to a world of wealth and adventure, and this is exciting. Furthermore the tales of damsels in distress and dragons with heartburn become part of the rich tapestry of our history, albeit mythical.

The whisky world is also rife with the tales of kings, notably the Highland Park Earl Magnus series, which traces the story of Earl Magnus and his canonization followed by his murder at the hands of his dastardly cousin Earl Haakon the bloodthirsty Viking. Another whisky that has royal pedigree is the Dalmore, in particular the King Alexander III bottling, and it’s story is quite impressive. In 1263 an ancestor of the Mackenzie Clan saved Alexander III from being gored to death by a mighty stag with a single arrow. It was because of this courageous act that the Mackenzie’s were given permission to use the stag’s head on their coat of arms forever more. In turn, the Mackenzie’s affiliation with the Dalmore has led to the stag’s head adorning their sturdy bottles. However the question is, how regal are their whiskies? Well the King Alexander III expression certainly has a lot to say for itself having been matured in six types of wood: Wine, Madeira, Bourbon, Marsala and Port, plus two types of Sherry wood. In addition, it comes in suitably ornate packaging, so does it live up to its ancestry?

King Alexander III 
40% - No Age Statement – Dalmore
Nose: Incredibly rich stewed red berries, spiced rum, classic Dalmore orange, dark chocolate, and a hint of pinot noir.
Palate: Very spicy with nutmeg and cinnamon, orange zest and Christmas cake, with a surprisingly light mouth feel.
Finish: Oak is clearly present on the finish but having been matured in six types of wood is this surprising? The finish is also fairly creamy with a liqueur quality and a tannic vinous edge, with pepper playing out to the end.
Overall: A regal malt indeed. However I found the nose to be more majestic than the light palate, which I found disappointing. It wasn’t that the palate was in any way poor just light in comparison to the big spicy nose, like the nose is the prince and the palate the pauper. A whisky for further consideration certainly.

Battle of the Sexes: Ardbeg Uigeadail

Me contemplating Uigedail

There's only one way to end a night spent drinking great quantities in great company, and that is to continue drinking great quantities in great company and then finish with an impromptu whisky tasting competition. We had everything we needed: Two Glencairn glasses, a bottle of whisky and three people, two to taste, one to adjudicate. The tasters would be myself and my girlfriend, Ellen (apparently competition is our thing). The judge would be my friend Rob, who we deemed impartial enough fulfil this crucial role. I should say he was impartial in that his urge to embarrass me should equal out any loyalty to me over Ellen... Oh and he has a fantastic knowledge of whisky so was in a perfect position to judge our notes. The whisky would be the behemoth that is the Ardbeg Uigeadail. A caskstrength Ardbeg named after the loch that feeds this reputable Islay distillery. It consistently gets rave reviews and seemed like a great whisky to finish the night with.

Ellen posing

We took our places, whisky poured, pencils sharpened, and not without some trepidation. The tasting took place in silence, a lot was at stake here. Firstly I don't particularly enjoy losing and secondly I take some pride in teaching Ellen to taste whisky, so was looking for a close win. Eventually our notes were complete and in turn we read them out to Rob who sat magnanimously with a tumbler of Uigeadail waiting to judge. Here are our notes:

Ellen:
Nose: A salted caramel, heavy smoke with hints of the leathery, metallic tang you get with a new car.
Palate: Smooth, with the flavour of Nori (the seaweed that wraps sushi) intertwined with the smoke.
Finish: The smoke increased on the finish, with a definite sweetness present and undertones of a light spice, perhaps cumin and coriander.

And here are mine:

Ardbeg Uigeadail
54.2% - No Age Statement
Nose: Oak smoke galore with a strong combination of grapefruit and butterfudge. Past this heavyweight combo there is heather, stewed cherries and marshmallow with a charcoal character closing the nose.
Palate: Chlorine jumps to the fore followed by grapes and raisins. There is an underlying toffee sweetness and an essence of an alcoholic trifle.
Finish: A burst of creamy toffee chased by smokey embers. With that heather from the nose transforming into damp peaty undergrowth.
Overall: A massively smokey, take no prisoners whisky. As delicate and complex as it is immense. Deserving of the plaudits it has gathered. A clear winner of a dram.

Our judge

Rob spent much time considering our notes. He loved Ellen's new car metaphor and, like me, was shocked I missed out on the spiciness Ellen got on the finish. After even more umm-ing and ahh-ing he made his decision and awarded me the prize of champion for my identification of the citrus notes. For me this was more of a joint victory. I am pleased with my win, but I am happier that Ellen could now taste a whisky and make accurate notes. It's not every lad who can convince his girlfriend to enjoy whisky also... Although this does mean next time I will be much more competitive. I can't be beaten a girl now can I?

Glenfiddich - The Guilty Pleasure

We all have guilty pleasures. Some are quite standard such as liking the X-Factor, the Spice Girls and Lambrini. Whereas others are down-right weird, like making a culinary cocktail of baked beans, pickle and spray-on cheese. Guilty pleasures are those secrets we keep to ourselves and it is this secrecy that makes the object of our pleasure all the more delicious. They are something that clashes with the image we project to others. They are dark, dirty and dangerous. Yet somehow, no matter how much we may try to ignore them, to strive to watch BBC4 and not E4, they always come back to haunt us, and we crumble before them. I have a few, and I cannot forgive myself for them. They include Waterloo Road, Ronan Keating and Glenfiddich. Waterloo Road just captivates me with its plot holes and poor story planning. I can’t help but enjoy Ronan Keating’s songs, and as much as I want to reject Glenfiddich’s big brand image, I can’t help it, I love this accessible pub whisky. So when I got the chance to taste the limited release of the Snow Phoenix I was very excited indeed.

The Glenfiddich Snow Phoenix has a story I quite like, and if you have read my Shackleton Whisky review you will know by now that I am partial to a good story. These whiskies could easily be described as gimmicky or simply a marketing ploy, and don't get me wrong I am well aware that these whiskies are largely a sales push. But I don't think that has to be a negative point. A story gives the whisky a sense of place and time. It helps make the whisky more than just a drink. The key is to match a good story with a good whisky. Having tried the Shackleton again, the glow has worn off somewhat. So when I tried the Snow Phoenix I was much more wary. So anyway back to the story...

In January 2010 after extremely heavy snowfall, the roof of a warehouse at Glenfiddich collapsed showering the casks waiting in sombre maturation in snow and ice, leaving a phoenix shaped (although I think angel-like) hole in the roof. Glenfiddich, not one to miss an opportunity, bottled a selection of the casks (aged between thirteen and thirty years) to create the Snow Phoenix, a commemoration of an event in Glenfiddich's rich history that could have been a disaster. I genuinely love this whisky and find it incredibly hard to stop drinking.

Glenfiddich Snow Phoenix
47.6% - No Age Statement (13-30 years) - Bottled 2010
Nose: Toffee and pear instantly grapple with the nose with cherries and dry sherry lend a more complex charm, offset wit soft notes of cox apples and rosewater.
Palate: A busy mix of blackcurrants, caramel and apple with an underlying spiciness. Full-bodied and mouth coating it has an almost grainy dry texture that is somewhat moreish.
Finish: Apple pie with cream drizzled on top that doesn't rush to end.
Overall: Weirdly reminds me of the Shackleton despite their obvious differences, maybe it's the snow-laden story of the two. An absolutely brilliant whisky, I think I may be too smitten to offer a more impartial summary. Normal service resumed next time!

Of Moors and Mountains - The Bowmore Tempest

Me with long hair and a map

I'm squinting at a map with the wind launching itself like an RPG at my jacket and the rain machine-gunning my head, my kit and a bloke with borderline hypothermia sitting on a rock a few feet away. My mate comes running out of the mountain mist with a status report of the terrain ahead. We were having to run ahead of the dense fog to try and get our bearings and to get off this mountain and get the casualty to safety. For some, this may not seem like a whole barrel of laughs, but for me handling the outdoors is as fun as whisky. Stumbling across ridges, potholing, kayaking and climbing are my idea of a good time. Furthermore they largely result in drinking in great pubs serving fantastic beer and an array of whiskies. This is partly the reason why I associate the smell of whiskies with an environment before I have to scribble out my tasting notes and write something involving fruit and toffee rather than "the nose of Crib Goch in the rain", otherwise no one would be able to interpret them. I think the main reason I associate whisky with the outdoors is that my first tour of some of Scotland's distilleries was with a heavy backpack and public transport. This trip also taught me it is sadistic to attempt to reach the majority of distilleries by public transport. Indeed I would rather attempt to outrun a tiger with an empty stomach and a healthy dose of rabies than try and get to certain distilleries by bus again. Despite this and the midgies, one of my best memories was lugging six and a half stone of kit, nine miles in two hours to get back from Talisker to where there was a pub and a small square of

The Leeds Uni Caving Soc. int' pub

moderately un-boggy ground to pitch our tent for the night. My friend and I stumbled into the pub throwing our bags down and rather stupidly asking, "Do you serve Talisker?" Before ordering a dram each of the Talisker 18 year old to recover with. No whisky has ever tasted as good, nor has any combination of curry super noodles and pork scratchings (we were running rather low on supplies). So this is the reason, along with my obsession with the outdoors, why I associate whisky with mountains and fresh air, and being trapped in London any reminder of moors and mountains is gladly welcomed.

Bowmore Tempest
56% - 10 Years Old - Second Release
Nose: Chlorine and sea breeze jump to the fore followed by sea spray against the cliff face. A powerful nose.
Palate: Intense smoke, peat bog and maritime flavours.
Finish: Campfire smoke is the word here with an unusual hint of kiwi.
Overall: Stormy is the word, a whisky that would be best appreciated in a tent being hit by gale force winds as you crouch inside planning the next day's adventure. Top Bowmore!