Rogue Voodoo Doughnut...

... is the kind of name that could easily embarrass a person placing a drinks order. And when this, ahem, interesting bottle shows up, well, it ain't going to be easy to hide. The liquid, however, turns out to be remarkably drinkable.

The full name of this beer is Rogue Voodoo Doughnut Pretzel, Raspberry & Chocolate Ale, but when I smelled it, the dominant aroma wasn't Pretzel, but chocolate - the kind of cheap chocolate used in Easter eggs, I think. There's also a decent backbone of malt somewhere in the background.

The palate is very sweet - perhaps a little too sweet for a 5.4% beer - with plenty more of the cheap chocolate notes, along with a very enjoyable malt flavour. The raspberries provide some tartness rather than any flavour, and I couldn't pick out any pretzel at all. None at all.

In conclusion, I'd have to say the packaging is something of a sleight of hand. This beer is much more sensible and beer-like than I had expected, and really rather enjoyable.

It Is To Disappoint

So I finally managed to obtain some Casa Lluch Verdil 2014, long after my precious few bottles of a previous vintage were finished. Of course, I failed to check all the details, and - dammit - they've switched to stelvin closures.

Now this is definitely carping on my part, because I do think the current vintage is a pretty decent drop, but it's not as good as it was before. I'm going to have to keep the rest of this case for years before it evolves to where I want it.

Anyway, here's what's good about the wine:

• It's organic
• It has a pretty label
• It's a very obscure grape variety
• It's really rather tasty, like so:-

The nose is fresh, light, and lively, with tart citric notes and a (very little) something mealy or creamy. The palate is tangy - grapefruit and lime, but also mouth coating and slightly oily. The lime note is almost coconutty (which ties in, I think, with the mealy note on the nose). The finish is refreshingly sour.

Overall, it's a direct, refreshing summer white (with enough weight to handle salads and other light dishes, I reckon). Just not as good as the previous vintage, that's all.

Billecart-Salmon Cuvée Nicolas François Billecart 2002

By a stroke of good fortune, Small Fierce Glasses and I were able to attend a lunch at Prestonfield House in Edinburgh, hosted by Billecart-Salmon, which served to introduce the recently released Cuvée Nicolas François Billecart 2002.

Arriving rather early, we sat on a rooftop terrace in the shadow of Arthur's Seat, sipping the excellent and bracing Vintage 2006 (a polyglot and slightly unhelpful name, omitting to mention, as it does, that this is an Extra Brut champagne, with a dosage of only 1.5g/l). The Vintage is a fairly new venture for Billecart, this being only the second release, but as we sit enjoying the sun and the fizz it is definitely my favourite Billy.

Some indeterminate time later we are ushered into a room which has never knowingly had any item of decor removed, ever, and are there presented with the Blanc de Blancs Grand Cru 2004. Immediately, this is my favourite Billy. It's honeyed, with a glorious perfume of white flowers and biscuit dough, and it is even a little buttery. The palate matches the nose perfectly, and the mousse is billowingly soft (all of today's champagnes were decanted, which allows the wine to breathe and lessens the rasping initial carbonic acid bite of a freshly popped bottle). Over time, as the fizz lessens, the wine becomes ever more vinous. Not in an obvious, Burgundian Chardonnay¹ sort of way, mind you. Vinous, but still Champenois.

Production of the Blanc de Blancs is 30,000 bottles, using grapes sourced from five villages in the Côte des Blancs - I wonder which of the six Grands Crus was snubbed?

After a slightly embarrassing interlude (the food was distinctly fleshy, and I had foolishly assumed that in 2015 an establishment so prestigious would automatically be acreophage-friendly) the raison de déjeuner is poured. The Cuvée Nicolas François Billecart 2002 is intense, complex, interesting, and distinctly youthful. Aromas of white and yellow flowers vie with fresh blonde wood and, oddly, malt. There's honey as well, but an older, spicier honey. The palate is balanced and rounded, salt and honey and lemon pith all complementing each other. As with the Blanc de Blancs there's a vinous quality which champagne rarely shows. Whilst I'm enjoying this fine fizz immensely, the Blanc de Blancs remains my favourite.

The Nicolas François is produced using Pinot Noir from Aÿ and Mareuil-sur-Aÿ along with Chardonnay from Avize and Chouilly.

Billecart-Salmon is arguably the best of all the champagne houses. It gets my vote for its ability to produce wines that manage to fuse delicacy and intensity, finesse and sheer unadulterated hedonistic joy. Long may it thrive.

(Oh. We may well have drunk some Gevry-Chambertin and 30 year old Coteaux de Layon too. I wasn't really paying attention to the other wines)

1: I love Burgundy. But who can resist the opportunity to use 'Burgundian' as a put-down?

Waulkmill Mooseheid Perry

Perry seems to come in two varieties. There's the delicate, elderflower and fresh pear juice variety, and there's the more full bodied, tannic, occasionally funky type. The latter is much closer to cider, and can be very enjoyable, but the former, rarer version is, in my opinion, the more exciting drink. Mooseheid is very definitely at the cider-y end of the spectrum.

nose: initially very good in a brisk way, then rather sulphurous for a few minutes. With time and air, a proper woody (or tannic?), cidery funk develops.

palate: there's a light spritz. It's dry and fruity, with a light tannic note. Over time the pear flavours come through; very white pears, rather than green or yellow (I wonder if I'm actually picking up some stone fruit notes?). Overall it's well balanced, with pleasant tannins, and I reckon it's better than last year's bottling too,

Chris Harrison of Waulkmill brews a variety of drinks from apples and pears. Some, like the Irn Bru flavoured Clan McFannie, are alcopops. Mooseheid, despite the jokey label, is a proper perry. Waulkmill Mooseheid Perry: Very Good

Glen Garioch 1998 Vintage

At a tasting of the Glen Garioch range last night Phil Nickson of Morrison Bowmore Distillers (MBD) treated us to a preview of the latest vintage release, a 1998 distillation matured in ex wine casks, specifically Saint-Julien, a Bordeaux red wine appellation.

We started with the core expressions, the Founder's Reserve and 12 Year Old. These are drams of which I think highly, in part at least because they taste just right at 48%. This is not a common bottling strength, suggesting that it has been chosen for reasons of taste (easier to do if you only shift 19,000 cases a year rather than say 120,000 like Bowmore). Two sweet and spicy drams, good to very good.

Next was the cask strength 1999 Sherry vintage, first released last year. Very much in the bold spicy Glen Garioch style of the first two whiskies, it also showed loads of somewhat rubbery sherry, and a pile of sweet red fruits; tinned strawberries perhaps. The finish was treacly and spicy. Excellent.

Glen Garioch 1991, released in 2010, is an ex bourbon expression, dating from when Glen Garioch malted its own barley with a bit of peat in the mix.  A very elegant dram (most Glen Garioch is what I'd call powerful rather than elegant), with smoky honey and coconut notes and a milky waxy finish. Very Good.

And so to the drum roll dram, the new 1998 vintage. I have to declare an interest here. I am a claret fanboy, specifically the Northern Médoc, so I may be a little biased towards this dram. It's worth noting that Saint-Julien is best known for Cabernet Sauvignon, a cask type which is also used in the assemblage for Dalmore King Alexander, a superb whisky, albeit overpriced, and in the cracking Longrow Red from Springbank.

The spice notes I found in other expressions this evening were much rounder and softer in the '98. There was a qualitative difference in the fruit character too, with definite fruit-yoghurt notes, where the other whiskies showed dried fruits and lacked the creamy, buttery note. On the other hand, there is a bit of spirit burn, which the other drams didn't have. The palate is complex, with typical Garioch spice, soft buttery-treacle notes, and a wee touch - hard to pin down - of something savoury. Most decidedly excellent.

The one caveat I have regards the price. This release, 15 years old, bottled at 48%, costs about £100. The 1991, at cask strength and 19 years old, can be had for £70. It seems to me that MBD are cashing in on the current whisky bubble.

Or perhaps I just didn't like the whisky enough. Certainly, after the tasting, three people thought it was good enough to pre-order and pay for.

By way of a bonus, Phil then treated us to a wee taster of two other expressions, the Virgin Oak and the 1986. The Virgin Oak is delicious, although it perhaps ought to be called Bourbsky or Whisbon, since white oak is such a dominant flavour (irrelevant aside: naturalists say that a typical oak tree is home to some three hundred species of other plants and animals. Is it unreasonable to call humans the three hundred and first, since the flavour of oak is so important in so many human beverages??).

The 1986 was a fine, fine drop, and made all the finer by the subtle thread of smoke running through it. Since closing their floor maltings in 1994, Glen Garioch has been made with unpeated barley. On the basis of the '86, I would call that a big fat mistake.

Create:Eat:Whisky

To Edinburgh for the opening session of Create:Eat:Whisky, which I'd been looking forward to ever since the anCnoc #LightOnDark event in March, because the food/whisky pairings at that event, by Jelly & Gin, were so very fine.

The venue was hidden behind a very unassuming frontage, through a wicket in a battered old yard entrance near the bottom of Leith Walk in Edinburgh. I stepped through into a dark, peat filled space, beyond which I could see smoke drifting from the dimly glowing interior.

Inside, the old Nestle factory had been equipped for fine dining, with linen table cloths and little wooden boxes containing canapés.

After a very atmospheric introductory video featuring, Wizard of Oz style, the disembodied voice of Richard Patterson doing his "Hello, How are you" schtick we tucked into said canapés, including some very fine Ayrshire Bonnet cheese, paired with Jura Elixir, a twelve year old expression. The whisky cheese combination really worked very well, especially in terms of texture (I think because Jura is a soft/mild whisky), and the fruit flavours in the pineapple chutney definitely enhanced the malt.

Jura, to me, is a decent malt, but not more than that. It's soft and easy going, and seems to suit palates not used to whisky. Perhaps this softness makes it easier to match to food. Or perhaps Jelly and Gin are geniuses. There were some outstanding flavours going on here.

Next was a wholly carnivorous serving, which looked ace but did not pass my lips. The whisky was Jura Prophecy, the heavily peated one. This is a super sweet toffee-ish dram with a goodly hit of mellow rounded smoke. Decent enough. Prophecy always reminds me that Jura likes to position itself as the whisky for every occasion. Every bottle of Jura has a kind of flavour wheel printed on the box with - would you believe it! - a Jura in every quadrant.

Pudding!

Third up was Origin with a pear compote. This was just delicious. The texture was right, the cooked pear brought out a similar note in the whisky, the cream I could have eaten by itself. Never before has Jura 10 Year Old tasted so good.

We finished with the Diurach's Own (a 16 Year Old) and some artisanal chocolates, which I didn't eat, preferring to take them home as tiny bribes for my family. However, I do know from other tastings I've done that Jura is the right kind of whisky for chocolates - if it were woodier the oak would seem bitter, and it's sweet enough too.

An aside: Jura emphasise (on this page) that the Diurach's Own is matured in ex Amoroso Oloroso sherry barrels. But that's just cheap Oloroso which has been sweetened, which is perhaps not the greatest recommendation.

The music (see below), subtle lighting, and props never intruded on the organoleptic experience, and the food pairings definitely made Jura taste much more interesting than it normally does. Well done to Jelly & Gin.

A Bruichladdich Tasting with Jim McEwan

Since 2001 Bruichladdich tins have carried the tag line "Progressive Hebridean Distillers". The 'Laddie has built a reputation as a distillery willing to experiment - Octomore, Black Arts, and the quadruple distilled X4 come to mind - and certainly the packaging is very modern.

Bruichladdich (like many an Islay malt) has also acquired a fanatical following, at least in part because of the work that Head Distiller Jim McEwan has done over the last thirteen years. So when Glasgow's Whisky Club invited him to host a tasting, there was a rush to sign up - I've never seen so many club members gathered in one place before.

Mr McEwan is a compelling and passionate speaker, and we were treated to a fiery defense of the Way of the Laddie, along with some great anecdotes of how distilleries worked in the 1960s. And of course, some very fine whiskies.

The first three were from the latest iteration of the Bruichladdich range. Bruichladdich Classic is a no age statement malt bottled at 50%, which replaces the Laddie Classic 10 Year Old (which was bottled at 46% and cost rather less). It has the pure, clean, malty character which, along with the lactic or sour note, defines Bruichladdich. Sadly, the new Classic isn't as elegant as the Ten. It's a fine dram, but the quality has dropped a notch. Here's hoping the distillery can manage to build up stocks to the point where the Ten can be reintroduced.

Bruichladdich Islay Barley 2007 is one of the products which justifies the "Progressive" tag. I wish more producers were exploring this kind of ultra local provenance, but at the moment there's just Bruichladdich, Kilchoman, and the not yet released Daftmill. Comparing it with the Classic, this whisky seems sweeter and creamier, and also more elegant. A very fine drop indeed.

The third "standard" was Port Charlotte. Again, no age statement (although peaty whiskies - for me anyway - seem to taste better at a young age). Really rather smoky, but also very very fruity, it still manages to show some of the Bruichladdich elegance.

The other three drams were (I think) cask samples. In the past you could be sure they would be released, but the latest Bruichladdich range is minimalist, so these may never be commercialised.

A 22 year old which has spent four years in a Haut Brion cask was my dram of the night. I have a real weakness for wine cask flavours, and this had everything I love. Elegance, vinosity, fruit (strawberry jam on buttered toast into raspberry balsamic vinegar), a slightly dirty note (faint struck match, plus very faint mushroom), it was truly complex. Superb whisky.

Don't even ask

A 28 year old from an Oloroso butt was perhaps not the best example of Bruichladdich character, but it was an outstanding example of sherry cask character. Rounded, sweet (but with big drying, grippy oak spice in the finish), nutty, treacle-y, I really enjoyed it. On reflection, there was some 'Laddie character to be found, in the balance and elegance of the finish. Another superb whisky.

We finished with some 2008 Octomore from a virgin oak cask. Of all the Octomore releases, I've only ever really enjoyed the Comus, which had some sweet wine cask influence. My first taste of this left my palate anaesthetised (64.7% ABV you see), but once I got over that the combination of ultra-peat and ultra-oak resolved into a rather tasty barbeque sauce effect. I'd still call Octomore a concept whisky rather than a drinker's dram, but this one was better than most.

At the end of his presentation Mr McEwan got us all to stand on our chairs with a foot on the table, so that we could toast each other properly (that is, by roaring at each other in Gaelic). All tastings should finish thus. A very fine evening. Here's hoping that 22 Year Old Haut Brion cask gets bottled sometime soon...

Glenglassaugh Torfa

Newly arrived this week is a no-age-statement peated whisky from Glenglassaugh distillery, Torfa (which means turf in Old Norse. I spent an entertaining twenty minutes trying to look this up. The closest I could get was torf).

Glenglassaugh, since the change of ownership in 2008 have been pursuing a strategy of releasing very old and very young whiskies - a necessity after twenty two years silent. There were a series of three new make spirit drinks, alongside such beautifully aged drams as the 26 Year Old and the 30 Year Old. The current core dram is the Evolution, which was initially released at cask strength but is now bottled at 50%.

Torfa is, like the Evolution, bottled at 50%. It's a pale whisky. The nose is fairly intense and has lots of dry smoke, with lighter notes of heather and iodine or salt. I also found a suggestion of honey.

The palate is soft and slightly oily, with honey and plenty of dry smoke, shading into a metallic warm aroma (like heating a cast iron pan with nothing in it). The palate doesn't have any of the iodic notes from the nose, which is a definite difference from Islay style peated whiskies.

With water this is a very easy drinking dram, nicely smoky, although perhaps a little simple in the finish. Best to drink it at full strength I think.

Overall I'd say this is a pretty decent whisky from Glenglassaugh. Onwards & upwards!

Indeterminate Validity

Germana Cachaça Caetano's
This is the kind of drink I just love - and that's even before the bottle is open. The bottle (which is surely just a re-purposed beer bottle) is too big for the 60cl it contains, so it only looks three-quarters full. It's sealed with a crown cap, for goodness' sake, as if you are meant to drink it all in one sitting. The label proudly declares the contents to be of "indeterminate validity", whatever the heck that means. Frankly, I find all these eccentricities very appealing.

The liquid does not disappoint. It smells and tastes like nothing else I have ever experienced. The nose has three distinct and very different phases. Initially is is very green, vegetal and herbal, with sour-sweet notes of dill and fermentation aromas. Then there's a much sweeter phase, with buttery honey, chalk, and cherry. The third phase is savoury, oscillating between olive brine, dill balsamic vinegar, and olive honey. And that's just the nose.

The palate is sweet, and very new-make spirit or grappa-like. It's a little hot or peppery initially, then there's a very strange flavour which I can best describe as something like an olive and honey tapenade on buttered bread.

This is a deeply interesting and unusual spirit which got me quite excited - I'd rate it as most excellent.


About Cachaça
Cachaça is a kind of rum - unique to Brazil - made from sugar cane juice. This makes it roughly comparable to rhum agricole, such as is produced in Martinique or Guadeloupe. It's probably best know as the spirit ingredient in a caipirinha. Most cachaça is unaged, and according to David Wondrich it "looks like vodka and tastes like it was aged in old truck tyres".

Tasting the new Arran 17 Year Old

I'm rather fond of Arran. The 10 Year Old is a good every day dram (and the bottle goes down mighty fast in my house). Some of the limited releases have been superb, such as the Peacock, and the Sleeping Warrior. I'm not so keen on the Machrie Moor  - it needs more peat - but overall I like their whiskies.

I recently tasted a single cask bottling of whisky distilled in 1996 which was outstanding, and left me thinking that Arran's plan to have an 18 Year Old as part of the core range was A Good Thing, because the mellow, rounded nature of that limited release 17 Year Old really suited the sweet toffee apple house style.

So, to this 17 Year Old, which is a limited release on the way to the Eighteen due out at some point in 2015.

The nose is sweet toffee, but with much less of the green apple note Arran usually gives me. There's a really attractive marzipan-nutty aroma. It seems a little more spirity than usual for Arran.

The palate is very rounded and mellow. Sweet syrupy apple juice, musty-dusty wood, and a little bit of the almond I found on the nose.

With water the nose opens up. Still nutty, but more macaroon or coconut, and biscuity. Not apple-y. The palate is now mouth coating and silky, very sweet and not so apple. The finish is really satisfying - lipsmacking even.

Overall, I'd rate it as Very Good Indeed.

#LightOnDark

Ah, product launches, how we love you. The elaborate set dressing, the canapés, the free booze, the goodie bag, the celebrity presenter, the hash tag...

To the Arches for the release of AnCnoc's peated whiskies, Rutter, Flaughter, and Tushkar. Even before I entered the launch space I could smell the smoke. Dimly and dramatically lit, it was hardly the best environment to taste anything for the first time (especially from the big mouthed tumblers the whiskies were served in), so I bravely resolved to stuff my face with nibbles, drink whisky, and network.

AnCnoc is a sweet, light dram. It calls itself Highland, although if you ask me it's a fine example of the Speyside style. There are peated Speysiders to be found, but not many of them. AnCnoc have chosen to go for a light smoking, with the added twist that the peatiness is defined according to the level in the new make spirit, rather than, as everyone else does, by reference to the barley. Clever marketing, or merely thrawn?

I tried the Rutter with a tiny blue cheese topped biscuit served from a smoke filled glass dome. It was

delicious. I've no idea what fraction of the deliciousness was whisky-based, but delicious it was.

The Flaughter didn't seem to go so well with some chestnut cream filled macarons, but on the other hand the mini edible peat bogs complemented it superbly. I ate at least five.

The Tushkar? Well, it's a bit thicker or oilier than the other two, I think. And somewhat smoky.

I left, clutching my loot, having failed to network, and reflecting on the whiskies. I like the Rutter best, because it retains most AnCnoc character, combining sweet barley notes with light, dry smoke. The other two are good, but they could be from any number of distilleries.

My ratings:

• Rutter - Very Good
• Flaughter - Good
• Tushkar - Good
• #LightOnDark - Excellent
• Edible Mini Peat Bogs - Can I Have A Full Size One Please?

  

  Mmmmm, edible peat bogs

  
  

The Liberator: The Pie Chart

A delicious Sauv-Sem blend from South Africa. I'm posting it here, not as a recommendation, because it was a one-off limited release of less than 5000 bottles, but by way of saying that if you see something else by the Liberator, you should probably grab it.

It was a rich, nutty-into-grapefruity wine, with a wee bit of frangipane about it too. Excellent.

Details here, and background on The Liberator here.

Rosy Wine

Rather than writing about the more famous wines in the picture above, this evening's post is about the Grüss Gewürztraminer 2012.

Grüss is a family-run domaine founded in 1962 at Eguisheim which these days extends to 15ha spread over 42 parcels. The vineyards are managed using the lutte raisonné approach. They don't have a website; my information comes from this page on alsace-vintage.com.

This is a very fresh, youthful Gewürz, with plenty of floral notes, citrus, and not much spiciness. There is also some aroma which reminds me of chalk. The common comparison of Gewürztraminer to roses seems very apt here, since the lemony-chalk smell is something I often find in roses.

The palate is off-dry (or perhaps medium-dry), mid bodied and not very acidic. Also quite fat, although not quite oily in texture. There's a lovely richness and a hard to pin down woody spiciness, perhaps cloves, reminiscent too of edinburgh rock.

This is a very straightforward, decent wine. Less prestigious than its fellows in the line-up above, but a good typical example of Alsace Gewürz.

White Horse, bottled 1942

This is as close as I'm ever likely to get to Malt Mill. Pathetic, I know, but part of being obsessive about tasting everything the best of the best is the train-spotter tendency. And at the moment, with The Angel's Share still fairly fresh in the public consciousness, there's a chance folk might know what I'm on about.

I'm told that at this date the malt component of White Horse would have included both Malt Mill and Lagavulin, and it seems, going by the taste, that the malt content was much higher than today's bottlings, and that the whisky was peatier too.

For a whisky that has been in bottle for seventy years, this is really very smoky. Peat smoke, not wood char or coal smoke, and with some sweetness and a slight floral perfume. Very soft, of course.

The palate is silky smooth, with a big initial hit of peat, shading into cigar smoke and fruit syrup. It is light bodied except in the finish, when it gets slightly grippy, before shading into a long salt/char/sandy aftertaste.

It was a privilege to taste this fine drop, and be reminded that blends can - or could, in the past - be as good as or better than self whiskies. Excellent.

3D Whisky

I tasted the Cask Strength and Carry On 3D whisky the other day, and rather to my chagrin, it was very tasty.

I say that because I've always held to the old whisky maxim "Dufftown by name, duff by nature"*, but this whisky rather disproves the rule (although to be fair to my prejudice it's only partly Dufftown - the 3D refers to Dailuaine and Dalwhinnie as well).

This particular vatting of malt came about because bloggers Joel Harrison & Neil Ridley of caskstrength.net somehow persuaded The Borg Diageo to let them have access to some casks for the latest release in their Whisky Abecediary. For that achievement alone they deserve kudos.

So to the dram itself. (I was provided with a handy 3D tasting note sheet, but after filling it in I felt compelled to return to my notebook and write at rather more length. Perhaps you prefer the fuzzy floating 3D words.)

It's a light and floral and sweet whisky. Floral to the point of soapiness, but for me that ain't a fail. There is also a grassy note, and overall the nose is very fresh. The palate is in keeping with the nose, being light and soft. It is gently malty, and has a very tasty brown sugar note. And it's sweet, of course, thanks to the Dalwhinnie, or so it seemed to me. Altogether a very tasty vatting.

*Old whisky maxim: in other words, newly coined by me.

Abbey Whisky Bunnahabhain 23 Year Old

In a twitter tasting organised by the tireless Steve Rush and Abbey Whisky, my favourite dram was a Ben Nevis 16 Year Old. Rather than talk about that whisky, this post is about Bunnahabhain.

I've a soft spot for Bunna. It's rarely superb, although of course there are some limited bottlings which shine. But it soldiers on, offering a gentle, creamline toffee dram, sometimes with a touch of salt, sometimes with a little more sherry. Of course there are plenty of whiskies doing just that. Jura, Arran, Tomatin spring to mind. What sets Bunnahabhain apart is a lightness of touch, a citric, lemony note which keeps it from being bland or uninteresting.

This particular Bunnahabain is a very fine example of the style. The nose isn't intense. Rather, it is elusive, with hints of citrus, hints of salt, hints of milk or cream, in a way which draws me in rather than boring me by their faintness. The palate is a bit of a surprise at first, with a huge hit of chilli astride the honey notes, but then the salty touch and the mustiness of old casks distracts me. Water calms the chilli, leaving a light sweet fudge flavour with a warming, albeit short, finish. A nearly excellent whisky.

And that's the point, I think. If Bunna was really excellent, one would need to be a bit reverential about drinking it. But because of that nearly, you can pay attention and find something to interest you, or you can simply be dog tired and in need of a dram without having to think about it, dammit, and either way Bunnahabhain will do the job nicely.

Some recent Glen Elgins, and a Small Lament

Selling Whisky for a living is fun, and mostly pretty straightforward. "What do you like? Oh, well this and this are pretty similar, or this is pretty special".

But when I talk to whisky enthusiasts, fellow malt heads, I often find myself pursuing a gloomier line. "You had better grab this indie Mortlach while you can. The new official releases mean all future bottles will cost twice as much"; "Of course, it's all been matured on the mainland since the early 2000s so the taste is bound to change in a year or two".

And so it is with Glen Elgin, perhaps the fruitiest of Speysiders (or at least up there in the top three with Mortlach and Glenrothes). Until 2012, according to the Malt Whisky Yearbook 2013, Glen Elgin ran two different fermentations. During the week at 76 hours, and 120 hours over the weekend.

Following the addition of three new washbacks, so as to increase capacity by 50%, this approach has been dropped, and replaced with a standard 90 hour fermentation.

The result can only be a loss of complexity, which will become apparent in the malt in a decade or so. See this article at Chemistry of the Cocktail for an excellent and detailed explanation. You heard the moaning here first.

All of this is by way of a preamble to the following Glen Elgin tasting notes. It's a Speysider I particularly like, and I do hope my prefatory grumble will maker these expressions seem all the tastier.

Gordon & Macphail Connoisseurs Choice Glen Elgin 1996, 46%
nose: fruity, like fresh chopped apples. Light lactic notes, then light woody spice, then more fruit; chocolate banana sweets.
palate: rounded & fruity. Thick fruity syrup. Adding water brings out a tangy apple note.
(tasted 2013-10-08: not rated)

Blackadder Raw Cask Glen Elgin 17yo, 57.3%
nose: spicey (ginger), malty, slightly lactic, apple-y
palate: Quite light and dry and fruity. Water sweetens it and brings out a waxy toffee apple flavour, then sweet burnt toffee with a touch of smoke.
(tasted 2013-10-28: excellent)

Milroy's Glen Elgin 17yo 1995/2013, 46%
nose: airy, fresh, sappy and sweet. Grassy, then malt loaf
palate: sweet banana malt. Woody, then bananas and oranges. Fruity, thick and sweet. Malty
(tasted 2013-10-30 as part of a tweet tasting: not rated)

Ridgeview Pimlico

English sparkling wine is a very fine thing indeed, if not yet the equal of champagne, but I wouldn't say the same of such English still red wines as I've tasted (although that's no great sample size - not even a handful).

Hence, via some unconscious calculus of likely quality, I had no great expectations of a bottle of Ridgeview Pimlico. And so I was very pleasantly surprised - it's delicious.

It pours a dark, dark red, with properly pink froth, sending my mind on Austral paths, but of course the cepage is the Pinots Noir & Meunier, so it is light in body, despite the dark colour.

The nose is a very attractive mix of bitter cherry and dark chocolate. The palate matches the nose precisely, and adds a mature, gamey note - although I was reminded more of Chianti and Sangiovese than Burgundy and Pinot Noir.

The finish, alas, is short and abrupt, but nevertheless, for the colours and flavours, I would rate it as mostly excellent.

There didn't appear to be a vintage marked on the bottle, but it seems that this was made in 2003  because it was such a hot year that the grapes were supremely ripe. So don't be looking for this in your local wine merchant any time soon.

Shacketon's Whisky, sort of.

I've been reading Shackleton's Whisky by Neville Peat, which seemed like a good enough excuse to drink some Glen Mhor - the Gordon & Macphail 1980 vintage, bottled in 2006. (Glen Mhor was the Inverness malt whisky distillery built in 1894 to help fulfill the demand for the Mackinlay's blends, so we can be fairly sure that the expedition bottles would have contained some of the Glen Mhor malt)

The short version of this review is that neither the book or the whisky are outstanding, although both are enjoyable, and of course there is an added interest in the Glen Mhor since the distillery is long silent, a victim of the downturn of the early 1980s.

The story of Shackleton's expedition to Antarctica is fascinating. On the other hand, it's clear from reading the book that the 300 bottles of whisky which travelled south from Scotland were no more or less important than the 450 tins of baked beans, and certainly less important than the 300 bottles of lime juice, which were brought along to help guard against scurvy.

I found it irritating that Peat continually speculates as to the various expedition members' thoughts about the whisky - it's about as illuminating as speculation regarding their thoughts on the beans or the lime juice.

I would also say that he gives rather too much credence to Richard Paterson's enthusiastic evaluation of the recovered bottle. And I can see no reason at all to believe that Macinlay's would have been a vatted malt or single, despite the assertion by Dr Richard Pryde of Whyte & Mackay that "there's no sign of grain whisky in it." Surely the whole point of grain whisky (at least as far as blending is concerned) is that it is neutral or dull or bland; it does not contribute flavour.

The whisky is very light for a twenty-five (or -six) year old. There are some notes which could be long wood contact, but essentially this is a delicate, lactic spirit, with some apple notes. I was reminded somewhat of Bruichladdich, albeit without the finesse which characterises the Laddie. I enjoyed it, but it doesn't really fit the profile which this book gives to Mackinley's. Perhaps the quality of the whisky had declined by 1980.

My quibbles aside, the book is a quick and interesting read, and it was definitely fun to drink the Glen Mhor while dipping into the book.

A couple of sherried Speysiders

Tamdhu 10 Year old was relaunched in May of this year, and on the day that I visited the distillery for the relaunch I also happened to open a bottle of Benriach 15 Year Old Pedro Ximinez Finish. 

Tamdhu was, until 2011, owned by Edrington Group, who rather neglected it. Given that they also own Highland Park and Macallan, this is understandable. What makes less sense is this: when new owners Ian Macleod Distillers were assessing their purchase, they found a decade's worth of Tamdhu filled into high quality sherry casks. Why did Edrington chose to make expensive malt whisky and then not really bother to try and sell it?

Who knows, but the decision was taken to continue this policy, despite the cost (I'm told good sherry

barrels are costing £750 each these days), so that Tamdhu could be relaunched as a premium brand.

The new bottle design certainly stands out, but what of the liquid? Well, it's pretty tasty. Tamdhu new make spirit is fruity, light, and smooth, and takes very well to active sherry casks. The sherry casks give a dryness which nicely balances the naturally sweet spirit, and adds complexity. Good Stuff.

The Benriach is more heavily sherried, but in a different style. The use of Pedro Ximinez casks gives a much sweeter edge to the whisky, although this is well balanced by a vinous tang which keeps the sweetness from being cloying. One gets the impression that the sherry casks here were all first fill, something which clearly isn't the case with the Tamdhu. One also gets the impression of a lack of integration; finishing rather than maturing the whisky. Despite that, it's still Very Good Indeed.

Sherry casks are something of a tender topic for Scotch distillers these days, and whiskies such as these two are definitely in the minority. Which leads me to conclude: if you like the sound of these; if you like sherried whiskies generally - then drink more sherry!