A guity pleasure…

One of my guilty pleasures is single malt whisky; I’ve enjoyed the occasional dram for decades, but a little over a year ago I began to truly understand whisky’s subtleties. It has the potential to be an unhealthy obsession, but a dram now and again is a slice of heaven; indeed, the whisky lost to evaporation during the aging process is referred to as the Angel’s share.

A fine scotch should be enjoyed slowly and completely; when I’m savouring a dram of excellent single malt it can last over an hour.

My usual favourites are the peaty varieties (though it took me a while to warm to them), but there are exceptions. I had a birthday recently and was gifted some money for the express purpose of procuring a fine bottle of single malt  (thanks Mom!) and I bought a bottle of Aberlour A’bunadh cask strength, which is aged in Oloroso sherry butts  (A’bunadh is Gaelic for of the origin. My bottle is Lot No. 44, at 59.7% alc./vol). I sampled it on my birthday, and it was a wonderful experience: the nose, flavour, and finish are exquisite.

Cask strength, for the uninitiated, means the whisky was poured straight into bottles from the cask, with no ‘distillery water’ added (it is usual procedure to add water to bring the alc/vol closer to, but not below, 40%). While sampling a dram, a few drops of water can ‘open-up’ a whisky’s hidden flavours, but I enjoyed the dram of A’bunadh at full strength, a lovely experience. My Dad, bless his soul, would have appreciated A’bunadh: I put the bottle away and will have another wee dram on his birthday, a suitable way to remember him: perhaps he’ll be enjoying a dram of the Angel’s share at the same time.

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And, to digress, it just occurred to me that the woman’s whisky market may not have been thoroughly examined. For instance, think of the potential marketing campaign for Tomintoul. The whisky can be described as a gentle Speyside dram with a zesty kick. A commercial would hinge on the pronunciation of the product, which is, I think, something like tom-in-TOWEL.  A ruggedly handsome Scotsman, a fine specimen, has just stepped out of the shower and is tucking the corner of his tartan towel in place. He walks out of the bathroom into the living room and pours two drams of Tomintoul into long-stemmed, tulip whisky glasses. He hands one to his significant other. Cut to a still of the whisky bottle with a backdrop of the Scottish countryside at sunset; the voice-over is smooth, whispered, seductive: something like… Tomintoul, a perfect start to the evening…

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Enjoying Scotch

I am by no means an expert on scotch; but, for those who know even less and would like to know a little, I offer the following.

First, start out with a decent, single malt scotch. If you’re unfamiliar with scotch, I’d sample a few varieties from friends or family to discover what type of scotch you prefer before splurging on an expensive bottle. There are many resources on the web, and hopefully your local liquor store has an in-house expert. If all else fails, at the bottom of this post I’ve listed a few brands and expressions that I’ve enjoyed (I’ve kept the price moderate: $56 – $95 per bottle in B.C. liquor stores, probably less in most other countries…).

Before I get any further, I’d like to add my thoughts on the ever-contentious argument of whether you should add ice to scotch. In my opinion: no. But it’s your scotch, so do whatever the heck you want. Adding ice to scotch cools the liquid and counters the alcohol burn (a difficult hurdle for beginning scotch drinkers), but you’ll sacrifice taste as the liquid cools. Scotch cooled slightly is, I suppose, acceptable, but it should never be cold: if you must add ice, put a large cube in the drink so it doesn’t melt too quickly (the larger the cube the slower it melts, due to a smaller surface area in contact with the liquid).  If you want to cool your scotch, there are specially designed stones that can be put in the freezer and used in your drink: the stones won’t scratch your glass and won’t water-down your scotch. If you must have a bunch o’ ice in your scotch, I wouldn’t bother buying anything expensive.

Buy a good glass (or set) for full enjoyment: the glass should be used exclusively for enjoying whisky. A tulip glass is favoured by most, but some like a small tumbler or snifter. I found a set of nicely shaped, inexpensive juice glasses that provide an enjoyable experience.

Pour a dram into your glass. There exists a specific volume (1/8 fluid ounce) associated with the term dram, but — practically speaking — a dram is a term that denotes varying volumes, which depend on personal preference and the generosity of the dispenser; I recommend anything from a half-ounce to two ounces (I’ve never gone below a half, but have occasionally been ‘guilty’ of overshooting the two-ounce specification. It depends on how much time you want to devote to drinking a dram).

Optional: some drinkers add water (anywhere from a few drops to a 1:1 mixture), claiming this unlocks flavours. I’m not a great believer in adding water; but, if you do add any, don’t use tap water because dissolved minerals and chlorine will mask the taste of the scotch.

Tilt and spin the glass so that the whisky wets the inner wall of the glass, increasing the surface area for evaporation, hence enriching the fragrance. Pay attention to the viscosity of the liquid as you gently swirl.

Nose the whisky: hold your nose several centimeters from the top of the glass and detect the subtle aromas. Dip your nose a little closer; again, pay attention to the aromas: perhaps different essences arrive. Then lower your nose closer, but not so close that alcohol burn masks the experience. If you keep your mouth open while nosing the whisky it may help in distinguishing the diverse aromas.

Gently swirl the whisky and nose again at different glass angles and distances to appreciate all the delicate aromas (note: if you added water you should wait a few minutes before the next step for a complete ‘marriage’ of the whisky and water to develop).

The mouthfeel: have a small sip, just enough to coat your mouth and swirl around your tongue. Some whiskys feel thick, oily, or grainy compared to others: coat your tongue and assess the texture.

Taste: hold the whisky in your mouth until you’ve sampled all its flavours, and then swallow.

The finish: after swallowing, keep your mouth lightly closed and breathe in through your nose to notice any flavours that arise into your sinuses (it may help detection of flavours if you let a small amount of air enter through your mouth as you breathe in through your nose). Whiskeys have different lengths of finish. When the flavours dissipate, breathe normally.

Enjoyed with full pleasure, a dram can last well over half an hour, depending on the volume dispensed.

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I’ve got a lot more sampling to do, but below are a few modestly priced (less than $100) scotches I’ve enjoyed:

Dalwhinnie, 15 yr. (Highlands region). Toffee, fruit, floral, subtle smokiness, nutty, a touch of spice ($95 in B.C. liquor stores). Easy to drink.

Glenmorangie, Nectar D’or (Northern Highlands region. Extra matured in Sauternes Casks). Citrus, honey, vanilla and nutty ($90 in B.C. liquor stores). The original, 10 yr. Glenmorangie, is also quite nice, at a price that may more easily fit the budget ($70 in B.C. liquor stores).

Balvenie Doublewood 12 yr. (Highlands region:  traditional oak, then Spanish sherry casks). Subtle, floral, fruity, vanilla and pepper ($80 in B.C. liquor stores)

Laphroaig, Quarter Cask (Islay region; transferred from large casks to age further in small oak casks). This is a hearty, full-bodied scotch. Laphroaig has a medicinal (salty, seaweed) and peat flavour with smoky, sweet fruitiness ($75 in B.C. liquor stores). This is a lovely scotch in this price-range, but the peat flavour and heartiness is not for everybody.

Glendronach, 12 yr (Speyside region: double matured; first in sherry casks, then in first-fill American Oak). Full-bodied, sweet sherry notes with creamy vanilla, nutty ($67 in B.C. liquor stores).

Arberlour 12 yr. Double Cask (Speyside region: aged in both traditional oak and sherry casks). Medium-bodied, fruity, subtle pepper and smoke ($60 in B.C. liquor stores).

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And, for the Irish blood in me, I’d like to include one whisky from the Emerald Isle:

Redbreast, 12 year (pure, single-pot Irish whiskey). Sweet with ginger; a spicy kick ($56 in B.C. liquor stores). This isn’t scotch: it’s produced in Ireland, but it’s the best Irish whisky I’ve tasted.

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