Whiskey Wednesday #9

One last set of Irish, and this one's from my trip back in March. A three-day press jaunt to the new Tullamore Distillery. We were there for the launch of the new 14 and 18 year old Tullamore Single Malts. I got to see some old friends -- Ian Buxton, Mark Gillespie, and Gavin Smith among them -- and made some new ones. We also drank a large amount of whiskeys, and got in a lock-in at the Brewery Tap in Tullamore. It was a good trip.

The new Tullamore distillery is beautiful. The outside has been done in an old style of stone and tall windows (and in 50 years will probably look old, but it's rather fresh, now), but the inside is very modern indeed: spartan, almost, until you see the rubbed copper of the stills.

Now...none of the whiskeys I'm reviewing here were made at the new distillery. Can't be: the distillery only opened last year. Tullamore's been without a distillery since the 1950s. Irish whiskey's had a really rough patch, but it's back up, and this beautiful (and large) new place is just one more piece of evidence of just how well it's doing. We were told that the Wm. Grant company made the decision to build the place here (just outside of Tullamore, where the old distillery was), even though the ground was not of the best for construction, because they realized that the Tullamore Distillery had to be in Tullamore. Good thinking, boys.

Where were they made? The blend, at Bushmills and Midleton. The single malts? It was confirmed, verbally, that they were both made at Bushmills. Moving forward, they'll be made here, but not for quite a while yet. Here's the stuff...waiting.

Tullamore Dew 12 Year Old Blended, 40%
Didn't have the standard bottling handy (must have drank it all), so we'll go with this. Like that one, this is a blend of malt, grain, and single pot still whiskeys (I remember tasting this one next to the 10 year old and thinking there wasn't enough difference to make a distinction. But it's been a while, so let's see.

Definitely Irish: the single pot still fruity grassy notes are coming through, with a warm note of stewed pear that just rings golden in the nose ("rings" and "golden", of course, being a sound and a color...in the organ of scent; just work with me, okay?). Oh, that's nice. The cereal notes are broad in the mouth, sweet and clean, and the fruit blends in, like a creamy hot breakfast. Fairly simple stuff -- I'd like some more wood character -- and just a touch of dry-oat pull at the end, but a nice glass. Does it rise above? Well, no. Mostly it's just nice.

Verdict: Okay

Tullamore Dew 14 Year Old Single Malt, 41.3%
Both the 14 and the 18 are four-wood whiskeys, aged in bourbon casks, then finished in a combination of bourbon, Madeira, port, and Oloroso sherry casks, with the whiskeys then blended in varying proportions to create a harmonious product. We got details, and I'll add that in a future post, but for now...I'm realizing that this is the first time I'm tasting this "off the premises," in the distillery bar and conference area, a nicely set-up place equipped with distiller, blender, and brand ambassador. It's also the first time I'm tasting it healthy: I was sick as a dog on the trip, and stayed sick for a couple weeks afterward. So this is, in a way, my first time tasting these.

Nicely dark gold in color, with a slight shine of green. The nose is of flowers and mixed pastilles, and high notes of rhubarb, with a darker layer of wood and anise underneath. Now, there is the complexity I was not finding in the 12 year old, and it's not simply piled on, either. Warm cereal breadth rolls with dry fruit, flashes of light caramel, and an undulating floor of solid, firmly-edged wood. The anise is a suggestion; pegs in that wooden floor. The finish is soft, with the oak receding and the dry fruit lingering. Nowhere near as sweet as the blend; not a cereal-heavy malt, either. Bushmills knows it needs wood variety to give its light malt spirit something to work with as it ages; clearly Tullamore has learned the same lesson.

Verdict: Good

Tullamore Dew 18 Year Old Single Malt, 41.3%

Distillery ambassador Jennifer Proctor demonstrates just
how much of the 18 year old Suzanne Redmond and I drank...
and then went and had dinner. Normal night.

Different ratios than the 14 year old, and finished longer in the four woods; a minimum of six months. I remember thinking that the 14 year old tasted fresher, and that I liked it more. Then the rest of the group went off to the hotel, which Suzanne Redmond and I took as an opportunity to sit down at the distillery bar with Jennifer Proctor as our willing host...and Suzi proceeded to work on changing my mind by the simple expedient of pouring more 18 year old in my glass. She's a clever one. It worked, but as noted above...now I'm here, and not sick, so let's see how it stands up!

The nose is more elegant, more restrained; the 14 is almost puppy-eager in comparison. Everything blends together in the 18, even and balanced. The cereal notes are here, but so are clear port-rich tones, and that dry fruitiness, and wood like a cradle. The whiskey spreads rapidly in the mouth, floating and pooling. The sweet fire is fruity and rich, but framed by a solid oak press; it has depth, it most certainly has weight, but it also has a freshness, almost like cool water. Much goes on here, and doesn't stop, evolving right to the final wisp on the breath. What was likely a fairly simple malt has been nourished and nurtured to become a multi-faceted gem of a whiskey. Nothing is out of balance. Finishing this sample.

Verdict: Good

[Disclosure: Wm. Grant & Son paid for my trip, lodging, and meals...well, most of them. I got lunch and a surprising number of beers in Dublin before the official tour started. You can do a lot of damage in a short time if you're determined, and Dublin certainly has the opportunities!]

(Irish) Whiskey Wednesday #8: RIP Merle Haggard

I just found out that country music icon Merle Haggard died. I still intend to continue with my backed-up Irish whiskey reviews, because hell, they're whiskey, after all; they even spell it right (though Merle was a Dickel fan, and they don't). But I am going to listen to some Merle, including his classic Okie from Muskogee.



Mad March Hare, 40%
"They still wave Old Glory down at the courthouse, and white lightnin's still the biggest thrill of all."
I'm not going to reach for Merle references in these reviews, but I'll be damned if I ignore one that's looking me right in the eye. This is poitín, Ireland's fabled "mountain dew," the white lightning of the Auld Sod. (See what I had to say about it in the sidebar at the bottom of the page here.) Mad March Hare got off to a rough start, being set for production at the Rathmooney distillery in Dublin; when that collapsed, they found digs in western Cork, an all-malt, pot stilled spirit, according to founder John Ralph. And that's about all I can tell you about it...for sure. Except how it tastes.

Well, it smells like it just came off the worm. Fruity and a bit feinty, grain, fat, and wet copper on the nose. A rare visual note: it rolls slowly in the glass, like chilled vodka. Ominous. Poitín, of course, has a reputation as a wicked strong and weird liquor, but this is at 80 proof only. Time to put that aside and taste it. It is thicker and a bit oily on the tongue, with a grainy sweetness. Not that hot, and there's an appealing mineral touch, almost like graphite from pencil leads. The sweetness is a bit much, but it's not gross. I'd want to mix this, probably with a bit of tea or light fruit juice, like apple. For all the Mad March Hare look, this is fairly tame, especially at 80 proof.

Verdict: Okay

Egan's Single Malt Irish Whiskey, 47%

Through a bus window; sorry.

Whup! 10 years old and un-chill filtered, and bottled at 47%. How 'bout that! Where's it from? Could be Cooley (not likely), could be Bushmills (could be, could be), and that's about it; nowhere else has been open that long in Ireland making single malt. Beautiful long tall bottle with a nicely embossed and detailed label. It's a grand old name, too: P&H Egan's were maltsters and bonders (buying whiskey and aging and blending it, much like was done with Green Spot) in Tullamore from 1852. I caught sight of their building when I was in Tullamore last month and snapped the picture you see here. But that's, again, about all I know about the stuff, so I have to fall back on the crutch of tasting it...

Spiced fruit and malt in the nose, with some heat and bright bark/pine hints. Quite nice on the tongue, and not clearly identifiable as one or the other...maybe Cooley, but I thought that was cut off by Beam Suntory. Okay, so it's a relatively dry and warm single malt, intensely focused in a tight spot of malt, like a Munich helles, not really wandering into the fruitiness thing. There's a fast flash of heat, then that unrelenting dry, almost dusty malt.

I'm liking that; it's not a whiskey that lets you relax, more like a sergeant of a whiskey. Come on, lad, there's drink to be had here, pay attention! None of this sweet fruit languor for us, hey? The finish is firm, without being overly oaky, but there's a touch of sweet alcohol in the middle that's not quite as happy-making as the rest of this, though it passes quickly. It's a different chapter in the Irish whiskey book, for sure, and that's a plus.

Verdict: Good

The Palace Bar Single Malt 14 year old, 46%

Now THIS little beauty is something I picked up last month in Dublin at the Celtic Whiskey Shop. I'd had it two days before at the Dingle Whiskey Bar in Dublin, and really wanted more of this. I'm glad I swallowed my usual reluctance to lay out long green on a bottle (90 Euro), because it's real good, and...it's gone. I got bottle 910 of 1000. It was blended and bottled by the folks at Teeling Whiskey Co. from casks selected by W. Aherne (owner of the Palace Bar) and Palace bar patrons. That's pretty cool.

Now, when you have a whiskey in a bar, with new friends and old, and the craic is great, and the hour is late...well, you have to wonder the next day just how good the whiskey really was. So I was a bit nervous the first time I opened it up. Sigh...no worries.

Doughy sweet malt, orange marmalade, and light baking spices, well-balanced and oh so pleasant. On the tongue, this blows away all the sophistry about "what is Irish whiskey?" Anyone familiar with whiskeys and whiskies would pick this out as Irish right away. The fresh and lively malt so high in the mouth and nose, the happy fruitiness of it, and the light hand of the oak, all come together and make merry, warming and yet cooling at the same time. Whiskey is a mystery. Whoosh, that's good stuff. I am going to draw up just short of that "Stellar" rating, though, if only because it's just a bit on the simple side. I want more depth, and a bit more rounded in the middle, where it gets a little hot. But that's very much on the high side of Good!

Verdict: Good

Well, Merle, you went out on your birthday. Kind of the way to do it. Hope I hear a lot of you this coming week. You didn't live forever, but you had your share. Cheers, fella.

(Irish) Whiskey Wednesday #7

I had good intentions ("paving the road to hell," as I like to say) of doing Irish whiskey reviews on the run-up to St. Patrick's Day, but as I've said several times, my health had other ideas. One of the worst colds I can remember laid me and my sniffer low for almost five weeks, and I'm still not completely recovered. But I'm well enough to review whiskeys, so I'm going to go ahead and do the Irish I had lined up, because they tell me that Irish whiskey isn't just about March 17th anymore.

This week it's two from Ciaran Mulgrew's new "The Quiet Man" line, blended and bottled in Derry, Northern Ireland. I talked to him back in January about his whiskeys, which are named for his father, John Mulgrew, who was a "quiet man" behind the bar he tended for 50 years: heard your stories, but kept them to himself. Ciaran's a bit of a quiet man himself when it comes to revealing the source of his whiskeys; Bushmills, given the location of his operation and the 8 year old single malt bottling? Cooley, where they've also done single malt? Neither are selling a lot of whiskey to bottlers. Nothing is confirmed or denied.

I asked Mulgrew what set his whiskeys apart from the growing flood of new entries to the category. "The Quiet Man is matured in first fill bourbon barrels," he said, "which have had bourbon in them but never any other whiskey. Most Irish whiskey and Scotch is matured in bourbon barrels, but the barrels may have had whiskey filled into them four or five times. This reduces the impact of the wood upon the spirit. In addition, the traditional blended variety has a high malt percentage, making it more premium and giving it a smoother finish."

Mulgrew's not a pro; or rather, he wasn't before he released the whiskey last year. "It has been a long time coming, but this is my first entry into the whiskey market." The Quiet Man is being distributed in the U.S. by Luxco, who should be able to supply fresh bourbon barrels. Luxco is supporting the brand with tastings both on and off-premise; keep an eye out for them.

The Quiet Man Blend, 40%
Quick grainy smell as I open and pour. Sweet grain in the glass, along with penny candies, cornmeal, and orange marshmallow. Quite sweet on the tongue, very Irish in character. Light, friendly, no overt oakiness. Sweet but not cloying, with some light golden raisin fruitiness. Pleasant and approachable; maybe a bit too sweet from the bourbon barrels, without corresponding depth, but a good whiskey for introductions and carefree drinking.

The question would be whether to have this, at a common price of about $35 a bottle, or Jameson/Tullamore/Bushmills/Paddy/Powers at anywhere from $7 to $15 less. This seems a bit pricey.

Verdict: Okay

The Quiet Man 8 Year Old Single Malt, 40%
Hoping for a bit more here. The blend, while not labeled for age, is thought to be about 4 years old. Expecting a bit more structure from an 8 year old single malt. Yup, more oak in the nose; nougat, sandalwood. A lot more oak on the tongue, more of the sandalwood, a nice warm cereal character, as well as a pleasantly oily texture. This has a lot more going on, not simply sweet and fun. If I didn't have more tasting to do today, I'd pour another full measure and just enjoy this one.

Verdict: Good

Coming up next: Egan's whiskey and poitin. 

Whiskey Wednesday #6

Yes, I'm aware I didn't do any tastings last week. Makes me wonder if anyone noticed. I didn't until Thursday. But I've got some whiskeys I want to write about, so we're going to keep this up, at least for a while longer.

Brenne Estate Cask French Single Malt Whisky, 40%

Allison Patel

I have two samples: the Brenne Estate Cask, and the Brenne Ten. I first tried Brenne several years ago at St. Andrews in Manhattan, at a table with a bunch of other whisky writers and bloggers, and Brenne founder Allison Patel. The whiskey is made from malt grown and distilled in Cognac, aged in new Limousin oak barrels, and finished in Cognac barrels. Each bottling is a single cask bottling, no blending. Neat idea. Nice packaging.

I wasn't impressed; I found it very sweet, almost gaggy sweet, but Allison was clearly very excited to be there and I didn't want to be the poop at the table. So I had a beer and kept my opinion to myself. I haven't had Brenne since, and when I was offered a sample of the two whiskeys, I thought it was time to do it properly.

The aroma is rich: fully ripe banana and root beer, but a really, really good root beer made with cane sugar, with a light but trenchant backing of soberly dry oak. Tasting it reminds me of that day at St. Andrews. Sweet tastes in a fairly heavy-bodied whiskey, with banana taffy and King syrup. There's malt there in the middle, but the banana engulfs it.. The finish is oddly hot for 40%, but the banana finally goes away, thank God.

I was right three years ago. This is really, really sweet. Too damned sweet.

Verdict: Flawed

Brenne Ten, 48%
The Brenne website says about the Estate Cask bottling: "NO AGE STATEMENT -- Because Brenne Estate Cask is bottled individually by barrel, the aging for each cask differs as it depends on how long the Cognac was in the barrel before. On average, the whisky ages for a total of about 7 years." This, on the other hand, goes to 10. And this is what I came for. These two little sample bottles have been sitting on my desk for over a month (sorry...), and now's the time. Pour the Ten.

Still banana, but nowhere near as sticky ripe, and there are other fruits -- cantaloupe, stewed apple -- and some oak. Nosed side-by-side, the difference is striking; the Estate Cask is sticky-sweet, young, almost silly, and the Ten is getting there, building a wooden framework. Wow, yeah, quite a bit more wood there, some quite pleasant floral notes, doughy malt, and the banana's much more in check on the palate. Quite hot, still, but the finish isn't burning, in fact there's a good roll of malt there with the oak.

Age helps, what a shocker! It's getting there, but I can think of better whiskies for $100.

Verdict: Okay


Elijah Craig Single Barrel 18 Year Old (Barrel 4090), 45%

This one's been sitting on my desk for a while too. I wanted to give it the attention it deserved. Given that it's selling on the shelf for anywhere between $250 and $350, I figure I owe it to you to give you my read on whether it's worth it.

Here's the thing: if you've read my writing, my reviews, and heard what I've said on a number of occasions, you know that this is a bit past my "best-by" date. I'm really a fan of younger bourbons, 12 years and under, and while I love Heaven Hill's whiskeys, generally it's the ones between 6 and 12 years old. That said, I know what you woody guys are looking for, so let's see if this baby's got it.

Oh, it's woody all right. The nose is oaky, like walking into a wall made of barrel. There's hair oil, cinnamon, maple, caramel, graham cracker, and, er, oak. The sweetness of the maple and graham makes me hopeful, so let's take a sip. That's pretty tasty, actually, with the sweet stuff all curling around: maple candy, caramel candy, cinnamon and dried mint, without the burning hot oak I was concerned about. The oak's there, but it provides structure, and balance, not palate death. The finish is civilized and pulls everything together. Nicely done.

But God above: $300? I can get two and a half cases of Heaven Hill Bonded 6 Year Old for that, and me, I'll probably like it more. This is rare, I get it. So if you really like older bourbon, you might pay that. I won't.

Verdict: Good...but pricey

Whiskey Wednesday #5: Part 2

Completely different whiskey for the second one of the day:

Jack Daniel's Single Barrel Rye, 47% 
I just got this yesterday, with a note tagging it as Jack Daniel's "first fully mature rye whiskey." It is a single barrel bottling (bottled 12/10/15 from barrel 15-7487) at 47%, and made from a mashbill of 70% rye, 18% corn, and 12% malted barley.

How old is it? They aren't saying. Now...the unaged JD Rye first went out for sampling in October of 2012, so hmmm...no, no way this is less than 4 years old. Let's have a sniff and sip.

Sweet vanilla, a bit of blackstrap molasses, fruitcake, and dry mint, all wrapped up in a basket of hot oak, Damn, it's like JD Single Barrel without the corn! Which makes it a head-turner on the tongue: you get the vanilla, and the sweet, and the little bit of woody/maple flavor, and you expect that corn, but instead you get grassy/minty rye, with a mouth-coating sweet creaminess that goes into the finish and catches with a light oak fire over the back of the throat.

Sweet rye. Weird idea, and I don't want to like it because rye's supposed to be spicy and savory, but it's growing on me. Tennessee rye is a real thing, I guess. Price is about the same as the regular Single Barrel Jack at around $50. You're going to want to try this and make up your own mind, but I really want to try this with some good ginger ale. That's gonna rock.

Verdict: Good

Whiskey Wednesday #5: Part 1

I'm going to split things today; not to boost my post count, but because I've got two new whiskeys that deserve my full attention, and the one's got a lot more story to it. That comes first.

Glenmorangie Milsean, 46%
There's a group near me that calls themselves Whisky Blasphemy. They're a good bunch of folks who don't take whisky too seriously; which is to say, they understand that it's to be enjoyed...anyway you want. So if that means Pappy Van Winkle 23 Year Old in Manhattans, or a Macallan Rare Cask Old Fashioned, well, that's what you do! With that kind of attitude, it's not very surprising that they have quickly become a large and surprisingly influential group. So much so that they managed to convince Glenmorangie let them host one of three simultaneous American telepresence events (along with ones in Chicago and San Francisco; yay, Philly for stealing that from New York!) for the prelaunch of the new Private Edition bottling, Milsean, Gaelic for "Sweet Things," we were told.

The guys at Whisky Blasphemy were good enough to extend an invitation to me to join them (thanks, Jun; thanks, Judd!), so I did, about three weeks ago. It was at Holt's Cigars in far Northeast Philadelphia, where Whisky Blasphemy has their regular Thursday night meet-ups. I got there to find that the bar had been transformed with red-and-white decorations and candy everywhere. Glenmorangie's whisky creator Dr. Bill Lumsden's stated goal with Milsean had been to create the aromas of an old-time candy store, with the red-and-white striped sacks the candies came in. Cute.

We all got stuck into some drams (Glenmorangie Original for me, never turn it down), had a cigar, and talked. Glenmorangie brand ambassador David Blackmore was there, always a fun guy to chat with (and a big fan of Tasting Whiskey, I'm happy to say; 'the one whisky book I actually use,' he told me). So we ate salmon and talked whisky, and had a great time.

The simulcast came about 45 minutes after I got there. It was Dr. Bill and his likely successor (not for a while yet!), Brendan McCarron, the "head of maturing whisky stocks," in the tasting lab at Glenmorangie. Here's what I got in my notes.

The Private Editions are experiments in methods and flavors in small production runs. And since they all start with the same light, Glenmo spirit, we were poured a sample of Original, the 10 year old, the first Glenmorangie Dr. Bill ever tasted, back in 1984. He tasted with us, and I grabbed some of it: 'Meadow freshness, rose, geranium. Vanilla reminds me of carnations. Creamy texture, apple, pear, vanilla, and honey. The finish: almond, coconut.' That's what he has to start with. "It is a fast-maturing spirit," he cautioned, so they "have to be careful with the finishes; it will pick up flavors quickly."

When he designed Milsean, he had that old-style candy shop profile in mind, and of course, he couldn't just add those flavors. Where to find them? Had to be from the cask, so he consulted with the wood wizard, Dr. Jim Swan, who's done such fantastic work at Kavalan, among others. What they came up with is nothing less than revolutionary. They took freshly dumped wine casks, wet casks and re-toasted the oak (radiant heat; open flame would have burnt the sugars) without any "de-charring" of the wood, as the careful scraping of the inner layer is called. Heat on the fresh, wet wine caramelized the sugars in the wine, giving a whole new range of flavors and aromas to the finish. Brilliant idea, really.

The wine? Nothing famous, plain Douro Valley Portuguese table wine, and that was selected because the cooperage that agreed to do the work on the casks was nearby. They originally planned to have the whisky in the casks for 5 years, but after a year and a half, "it was picking up flavors fast." Brendan made the decision to dump the 269 barriques after 2 and a half years, after which they were 'married' in a vat for six months.

Then we tasted it...which I'm not going to write about, because I'd been smoking and almost everyone in the room had a cigar of some type going. I just drank the whisky, and enjoyed it...and requested a small sample bottle, which I'm now going to try in my quiet, clean tasting area. Ah...I had thought that this was a 'shy' whisky without much aroma, and now I see that's the cigar talking. This is not shy, it's almost chatty! And yes, there's candy there: nougat, circus peanuts, some lemon drop, butter mints, and orange slices, pretty mouthwatering altogether. Taste, though, and it becomes clear that this is for adults. The candy flavors are all there, but there's also a firm malt base and some no-nonsense alcohol heat, with black pepper and bright floral notes. The longer it's in the mouth, the more the wood emerges until it's a pretty full grip on the finish. The finish is surprisingly firm, actually, after all this candy stuff. Some water opens things up: the heat's gone, and the candies come through more clearly, and it's more oily.

Now...yes, it's another No Age Statement (NAS) whisky, and I gather I'm supposed to 'tut tut' disapprovingly and note how this is just another way the whisky companies are cheating us out of value. So...it's approximately 12 to 13 years old, and they're getting just shy of $100 for it. Tut tut. Here's my "tut tut." Only one person knows if this whisky is "worth" its price, and that's you. After a certain point, the label can only tell you so much, you have to open it up and taste it and make up your own mind. I think this is pretty good, and what's more, it's pretty interesting. And I'd add something Dr. Bill said, which is a variation of something I've been saying for a while (namely, that NAS whiskies have been around forever, and the only ones people complain about are the ones that aren't that good): "It's not anything new to us. We released (Ardbeg) Uigeadail back in the early 2000s, and no one ever asks about the age because it's so good. This is a trend that's here to stay." Tut tutting complete.

Verdict: Good

Come back later for another new whiskey!

Whiskey Wednesday #4

Feeling better, but pressed for time, so no music this time. Just two recent Canadians.

Alberta Rye Dark Batch, 45%

A couple things to note right away. First, 45%. This steps up for Canadian, which was mired in an 80 proof/40% swamp for years. That's how you got Canadian, son, and if you wanted something stronger, you had to go searching. The higher proof proves that the Canadians are taking cocktails — not highballs, cocktails — seriously. Second, this whisky takes the curious 9.09% law (which says that one part in eleven (9.09%) of Canadian whisky can be...other) and uses it to a flavor advantage, rather than as a tax advantage, or a flavor stretcher, by adding 8% bourbon and 1% oloroso sherry to aged, 100% rye whisky.

To clarify, Alberta Distillers are old hands at making whisky from 100% rye grain, it's their thing (they use enzymes for conversion, not malt). The Canadian rye in this is about half "flavoring whisky" — distilled to relatively low ABV in a pot still, aged about 6 years in new barrels — and about half of it is "blending whisky" — distilled to relatively high ABV in a column still and aged 12 years in used barrels. Davin de Kergommeaux explains it in more detail in this Whisky Advocate blog post. But the key is that this is 91% Canadian whisky, 8% bourbon (guess where it comes from...Alberta Distillers is owned by Beam Suntory), and only 1% sherry. Is that weird? A little? Is it interesting? Yes. But does it work? Let's see.

The nose has wads of dried fruits — apricots, raisins, "craisins" — and a paneled woodiness of cedar and oak; very Canadian, that, as is the underlying sweetness. The whole thing smells like an enchanted forest. The 45% strides strongly into the mouth, carrying armloads of wood, baskets of fruit, and big trenchers of warm, sweet cereal, wreathed happily with the spiciness of all that rye. That's the dominant feature of the finish, too, that spiciness.

I can tell you this: pleasant as it is to sip this stuff (which it is, despite what I'll be telling you next month...wait for it!), it's also the basis for a Manhattan variant that has been my go-to for the past few months. This has been the darling of Canadian mixologists since it came out (it's labeled "Dark Horse" in Canada, and whether that's the only difference or not depends on who you ask, but the bottle of Dark Horse I have sure smells and tastes a LOT like this one).

Seriously Canadian, but in a way that takes advantage of everything the Canadian whisky category offers...including the very reasonable price. Get a bottle and start playing around with it and some cocktail ingredients. You'll find it's quite fun.

Verdict: Good


Canadian Club Chairman's Select 100% Rye, 40%
I've been drinking a lot more Canadian Club recently. Mainly because I've been going to a lot more dive bars, and cash bars at events. When you're at places like that, the beer selection often sucks, and the whiskey selection ain't much better. But you can almost always count on a bottle of CC, and a supply of club soda, and that's my dive bar go-to.

But this is a big change for CC, going 100% rye. Is it worth it? Let's find out. Nose is sweet, spicy, minty, with a hint of cedar/pencil in the background. Smells like a good young craft-distilled rye: sweet, spicy, simple, not overwhelmed by wood. Hmmm...not goopy sweet at all. Balance of rye and sweet grain, some of that rye oiliness, but a nice light finish that hangs on and flavors things. I'd take that in my club soda, and it's nice...but I think I'd rather have the Crown Royal Northern Harvest.

Verdict: Okay

Whiskey Wednesday #3

Wandering a bit off the path this week: I have two store special selections from Gordon's Fine Wines & Liquors in Waltham, Mass. One of them is the bottle of Dad's Hat Rye that was selected by Gordon's liquor guy Nick Taylor and his boss, Dave Gordon, last year when I was in the distillery (check that out here); the other is a Barrell Bourbon Private Barrel Nick selected. I also have a non-whiskey spirit; hope you enjoy that. I did. Let me know if you'd like more of that. I'm looking to learn.

Dad's Hat Rye Gordon's Private Barrel, 45%
Despite what's been mentioned several places on the Internet, I didn't actually help pick this bottling. I was at the distillery, I tasted all the barrels (as did Nick and Dave, and my friend and whiskey enthusiast Sam Komlenic, and the distillery owners Herman and John), and made comments as we tasted (as did everyone), but when it came down to the actual final selection, we all stepped aside and left that to Nick and Dave, which is as it should be. They chose to blend two barrels, so this is the first time I'm tasting the selection.

Nose of rye grain, oak, and mint, with some sugary sweetness and some of that fresh-cut jalapeno character Nick noted in one of the barrels. Active, fresh, and clearly young, but not unruly. Hot and busy up front — jalapeno, alcohol, rye whack — then it settles down into rye and oak, then the peppery heat returns in the finish to wrap itself around a rye-centered slow-burning oak fire. Impressive stuff for 7-9 months old.

Verdict: Good

Barrell Bourbon #13 Gordon's Private Barrel, 62.35%
Bottled at 8 years, 6 months of age: cask strength Tennessee whisky (yes, and there's your tip on the source), unfiltered, uncut. As with the other Barrell bourbons...that's all you know. They're sourced whiskeys, and Joe Beatrice ain't talkin'. But...Tennessee. Whisky. Get it?

Mint, warehouse reek, sugary booze, cornbread, berry cobbler (heavy on the cobbler, but the berry's still there) all play happily in the nose, and it's a beauty. Wowzer of an entry, too, as the heat you'd expect from a Booker's-strength bottling is all there, but the mint blows up as it hits the tongue — not all sweet, almost like lightly-burnt mint — followed by the corn, but it's sweet, fresh-ground meal; then the oak sweeps in for the finish, a lushly-paneled hallway leading off into the distance where, hopefully, there's another sip.

There is, of course, but let's try it with water. A good dousing proves that everything's still in place after the fire's put out, and the mint is fine, and there's that berry cobbler in a corner of the kitchen that didn't get burned...and now I can taste that the baker sprinkled cinnamon sugar on top. Excellent. These Barrell selections are setting a high mark on consistent excellence; the Barrell Whiskey I reviewed last year in Whisky Advocate was one of my favorites of the year, and this is a kicker as well. Wise up, stop chasing the hype, and start grabbing some of these instead. But don't flip 'em!

If it weren't totally frigid outside, I'd get a glass of this and drop a big cube of ice in it and hit the deck. As it is, I'm going to settle in by the fire and warm up.

Verdict: Stellar

Germain-Robin Old & Rare Barrel 351, 45.3%
I've been fortunate enough to correspond with Ansley Coale occasionally over the years, thanks to John Hansell at Whisky Advocate having met him; Ansley would occasionally send samples to the magazine, knowing that we likely wouldn't review them. Then last year, things changed. Not only did he send a copy of Hubert Germain-Robin's excellent small treatise on alembic distillation (Traditional Distillation Art and Passion) and some samples of Craft Distilling's very good young whiskeys,  I got a chance to interview him for a Wine Spectator piece I did on artisanal distillers (which Germain-Robin absolutely qualifies as). Great interview, and I hope you can find a copy (it's not online, I'm afraid). He also sent me some samples of brandy for the piece; I needed tasting notes from each distillery. Having never done tasting notes on brandy before, I can only tell you, this was like trying to write your first whisky tasting notes on something like a Brora 35 year old: 0-60 in 30 words or less.

Bless his soul, even after seeing that, he sent more. and I'm going to try to do a couple of them justice. The Barrel 351 is from the vintage Ansley calls "perhaps our finest distillate, a 1987 pinot noir from the Welch vineyard in Potter Valley, 26 years old." This is what makes these brandies different; rather than distilling from wine made from the Ugni Blanc grape (which, apparently, makes so-so wine), Hubert Germain-Robin decided to make brandy from the best grapes, real wine grapes. It shows.

Fruit essence on the nose: quick, bright, intense, sweet but not insipid, and just a bare hint of oaky spice and earthy chalk underneath. Initial entry is delicate and vinous, more wine than fruit now, and you can feel the vaporous heat. Suddenly a warmth spreads over the tongue: creamy fruit, oak, and a gentle hint of vanilla. It's an eye-opener: the brandy seems to gain body as it spreads on the tongue, and fruit blossoms high in the mouth: grape, lushly ripe apricot, and a tricksy bit of anise. The finish is by way of a gentle closing of the day, as slow and beautiful as a sunset as one thing after another shuts down: the big fruits, then the grape, then the vanilla, then the wood, and finally, just the warming heat is left. There's not much of this left (only 120 bottles, from one cask), and prices are headed north of $600, making it the most expensive bottle I've ever reviewed at length. But if you like brandy, I can promise you: you will very much like this.

Verdict: Stellar

Whiskey Wednesday #2

I've reviewed bourbon, rye, Canadian, craft craziness, and flavors...time to take a swing at some Scotch. I've got two relatively similar ones here, both malty Speysiders aged (mostly) in sherry casks, and so, so friendly. Good stuff. I just got something else in the mail this afternoon, may pop back on later tonight and add it; or maybe wait till next week. (Next week; and it's worth the wait, I think.)

The Macallan Edition No. 1, 48%
The Macallan, like some other Scotch whisky brands, is somewhat a victim of its success. The demanding grabbers, the people who just want to know what "the best" is (so they can buy it and tell everyone that what they have is the best), flocked to The Macallan, and bought it, and supply and demanded it through the roof. Classic example of one of the whiskies we knew about, and then everyone found out about, and now we can't afford it anymore.

But them folks by the Spey know we love 'em, and they came up with this new release, priced at a more affordable — for Macallan — $90 (although I see stores are already jacking you for it at $130 and up!). Okay, it's an NAS bottling, like the 'color' Macallans. But let's give it a fair chance, hey? It's a lot less than the $300 Rare Cask, also an NAS.

No surprise: sherry wood on the nose, like plum honey, wine brittle, buzzy fruity beeswax. This is blended from seven sherry casks and one bourbon cask, so the sherry sings. As it should: that's what we love about Macallan. I could damn near sit here and sniff this for another half hour, but work demands that I keep it moving. Trembles on the tongue, as if hesitant, and then thins and explodes into first that shimmeringly sweet sherry, followed by pepper and spices and soothing malt. The finish doesn't let up, either; it stays quite warming and sprightly, right on down the throat. I'm really wishing they'd sent more than a 50 ml sample; this is tasty stuff.

Is it amazing? No. Is it Macallan? Most definitely. Is it worth $90? Depends on what you want. If you want Macallan, it's worth it.

Verdict: Good




The GlenDronach Revival 15 Year Old, 46%
GlenDronach's been around for a long time (190 years), but it's the recent history that is most important, for two reasons. First, that's what we've got to drink! Second, it's because Billy Walker's group from BenRiach has bought them and is running things properly. Which means this stuff is simply awesome. I've already had it, used it in several whiskey dinners, and bought myself this bottle as a farewell gift from my job at Whisky Advocate. Yeah, really: I bought a bottle of whiskey. Look, it's from some of the last coal-fired distillation of Scotch whiskey anywhere (GlenDronach converted to steam heat in 2005, do the math), aged in Oloroso sherry butts, 15 years old, and just beautiful. So strap in, here we go.

Nose is deep and rich: fruit and chocolate candy, deeply sweet orange marmalade, vanilla and fleeting hints of sulfur. The sensation on the tongue is just about the opposite of The Macallan Edition No.1: it detonates on the tongue with hot white pepper and stinging orange, then dumps soothing toffee and chocolate-orange sweetness to snuff the fire. There's more pepper at the end, with some tightening from wood, but mostly it leaves your mouth suffused with fruit and chocolate and sherry wonder, but in a beautifully restrained way, not beating you over the head with it. The body is oily and supple, a real tactile whiskey. It is as the supplied tasting notes suggest: dynamic. From the moment it's poured in the glass to the last whisper as it finally fades, this one's never at rest, because there's so much here.

Now...I'm told that there's not a large supply of this, at least not for a few years. I'm seriously considering snapping up another bottle myself. If you like lushly sherried Scotch, and the price doesn't get nuts, you should get some yourself.

Verdict: Stellar

Whiskey Wednesday #1

No theme today, just a few whiskeys that I've put aside for this first round of reviews.

Here's how I'm going to do this. Unless otherwise noted, these are all samples provided by the distiller/importer/bottler. I'll be sampling them from a Glencairn glass.

Maker's 46 Cask Strength, 54.45%
I've been drinking more Maker's lately; never really took to it much in earlier days, but I have found that I really do like it in an Old Fashioned. I liked the Maker's Cask Strength, as did a lot of folks, which I suppose led to the decision to release a cask strength version of the stave-soaked Maker's 46. Overproof bourbons have more punch, but not just in alcohol strength; there's more flavor, too. Most times that's good, and there aren't many 80 proof whiskeys I'm really nuts about. Let's see how it works here.

Lots of caramel, corn pudding, and sweet orange/candy in the nose, and plenty of heat, too. It's not crisping my nose hairs, but you know it's got some crack to it. The heat's there on the tongue, too, spreading tree-wise across the surface and waking up the flesh as it goes. The extra alcohol is doing weird things with the soaked-up stave content, though: it's emphasizing it, giving it the mike, amping it up. As the whiskey warms, the extra wood hammers at the roof of my mouth. The finish is hot, and a bit bitter, almost astringent. The wood's won, and it's not a great victory. This doesn't taste like the big wood in a nicely aged 18 year old bourbon; it's like an over-oaked 7 year old. Tain't right, tain't fitting.

I like this one much better as Maker's 46. This is unbalanced, and at $40 for 375 ml, overpriced.

Verdict: Flawed. 


Collingwood, 40%
I reviewed Collingwood about five years ago, when it first came out. Since then I've learned a lot about Canadian whisky, and I've honed my tasting skills, so I thought I'd give it another run.

The nose is brightly sweet, with strawberries, red raspberries, taffy, and — with some vigorous swirling — caramel and some maple. Interesting flip of the switch as it enters my mouth: there's definitely a caramel sticky richness here, but then flick I'm getting those berry and candy notes. It all dances around, then swirls together in the finish, where it finally gets a bit woody. The bright bits lift this up out of the ordinary, but there's so much berry, I'm almost suspicious.

Canadian that's clearly worth sipping. Not mired in sweet glop, not begging for ginger ale, and cheerfully bright. But am I going to reach for it? Well...if it's poured for me, sure. But if I have to reach past a whole bunch of other whiskeys I can think of? Not really.

Verdict: Okay.


Hochstadter's Slow & Low Rock & Rye (Limited Release), 50%
Now that caught my eye right away: 100 proof, 8 year old Rock & Rye. Straight rye, honey and orange peel, "and a pinch of rock candy." Now...speaking as a Pennsylvanian, "Rock & Rye" means that glass-brick Jacquin's bottle, with the sugar-encrusted fruit slices inside and a plastic pouring spout inside the neck. North Philly Cough Syrup, and almost all of us have seen Uncle Jimmy working that spout with a knife, trying to get the fruit out and suck the last sweet drops of questionable booze from it. Well, one of the neat little things about the craft distilling and cocktail movements is that little niche bottlings like rock & rye are getting a serious look, and let me tell you: 100 proof and 8 years old is serious!

Let's give it a try. The nose seems to be all honeyed orange, until you realize that the bitterness isn't orange pith, it's rye oil. Keep in mind that Hochstadter's also released a "vatted" rye whiskey, with good stuff from all over (including, maybe...some rye from Jacquin's), and I suspect some of that wound up in here. Mmm...sweet, but not syrupy, and that 100 proof kick grabs your attention. It's all honey and orange and grain sweetness up front, pretty much tamed only by the alcohol, but the rye starts to have a say toward the back of the mouth, and by the time we're sliding into home, it's standing bitter rye and orange, like somehow someone mixed a cocktail in your mouth while you were taking a swallow.

Flavored whiskey: let's not mince any words. But exceptional flavors, and pretty damned good whiskey. I'm already thinking about how good this would be while shoveling out my drive (body-warm from the flask, warming my cold nose), or with a cube of ice and a pipe, or the next time I have a sore throat and Nyquil just sounds yucky. I'm going to be reaching for this solid, square bottle.

Verdict: Good.