bottle

Dalwhinnie Lizzie’s Dram

Reviewed by: Ted

Mama, just killed a dram,
Put a glencairn against its neck,
Poured it out, now the bottle’s dead…

Avid Whisky Waffle followers may remember that I was recently musing about how I needed to bite the bullet and finish off a bottle of Dalwhinnie that I’d had sitting around for far too long. Well, you’ll be pleased to know that the world is now minus one bottle of Highland single malt. Just not my bottle…

So, I was visiting friends last night and at the end of the evening the host whipped out a bottle of Dalwhinnie he bought in Scotland recently-ish and declared an intent to finish it off between the group. Naturally, everyone declined (you’ll need to install a sarcasm filter to read that properly).

The bottle in question was the interestingly named Lizzie’s Dram, a limited edition distillery exclusive non age statement release. No, the Lizzie in question is not the Queen, but instead one Elizabeth Stewart. Working at Dalwhinnie for over 30 years, she was apparently a trailblazer for women in an historically male-dominated industry as one of the first female Scottish malt distillery operators. After her retirement in 2018, Diageo, owners of Dalwhinnie, chose to honour her contributions to the whisky industry by creating a special release in her name.

Lizzie’s Dram is aged exclusively in selected refill American white oak bourbon cask and released at 48% as a limited run of 7500 bottles. The colour is darker than you’d perhaps expect for refill bourbon casks, but then this is Diageo we’re talking about, who are quite fond of going to town with the E150a caramel colouring.

The nose is pure Dalwhinnie – very first thing I detected was that classic smell of apples. My companions at the table, more casual whisky drinkers than me, were quite effusive in their agreement and thankfully I was backed up by the bottle notes. See? We don’t always talk rubbish (mostly). Also to be found are lemons, straw, vanilla and green sapwood. The addition of a couple of drops of water also draws out some caramel. All in all quite a pleasant olfactory experience.

The mouth is a different kettle of fish. It’s very sharp for some reason, with a metallic, Myer lemon body going on. The whole effect is very bright across the palate, with a lingering finish. I think it’s kind of like sword swallowing – it’s pretty difficult and can impress your friends who don’t know the trick, but in reality it’s uncomfortable in the mouth and you’re glad when it’s over. A couple of drops of water soften the blow, but then annoyingly a bit of the pizzaz and drama disappears. A difficult dram indeed.

Look, this is a NAS we’re talking about, so it’s likely that a good chunk of the release is made with relatively young whisky. I suspect that some of the jaggy edges on the mouth would have been smoothed out if the barrels had been allowed to work their magic for a bit longer. It’s a shame really, because I enjoyed what was going on with the nose and wish it could have translated across the entire experience.

Thumbs up to Diageo and Dalwhinnie for celebrating the undeniable achievements of one of their own, thumbs down for not backing it up with an entirely worthy dram. Of course, this is just me grouching with my Whisky Waffle hat on. In the moment, with good company and a dram in hand, we killed that bottle like a cadre of smiling assassins. When it’s someone else’s bottle and they’re pouring generously, one should not protest too hard.

Any way the whisky flows…

On killing bottles

Posted by: Ted

There’s a bottle I need to kill. Actually, there’s a number of them, but this particular one is an old bottle of Dalwhinnie 15. It’s been sitting around on the shelf with about a good dram’s worth left in the bottom for at least a couple of years now. I have a suspicion this may turn out to be a problem.

Killin’ me slowly with his dram…

People tend to think of whisky as being very durable. When it’s aging in the barrel all sorts of funky interactions are happening of course, but stick it in glass, that delightfully chemically stable substance, and it’ll stay unchanged forever. Maybe… although that theory does seem to have been challenged recently by the number of very old, rare whiskies that have been tested and found to have somehow magically changed themselves into much, much younger, inferior whisky that is most definitely not (‘we are so sorry to have to break this news to you sir’) that phenomenally expensive 1880’s Ardbeg you bought as a sure-fire investment. Hmm, quite.

Getting back to the point though, nearly-empty bottles left to their own devices just never seem to taste as good (or at least not the same). The flavours are diminished and changed somehow. Oxidation, causing changes to the molecules through increased oxygen interaction, gets bandied around a bit, but sources on the repository-of-all-knowledge indicate that this may not actually play as much of a role as I previously thought. Another theory that I quite like is that because alcohol and other molecules in the whisky are volatile, evaporation and dissipation occurs every time the whisky is poured, meaning some of the flavours are lost and the balance of components is changed (a more detailed explanation here care of the excellently anorak-y Whisky Science blog).

That being the case, why don’t we just finish of all those damn dregs and move on to pastures new? The thing is, psychologically it can be quite hard to bring yourself to kill the bottle. Back when it was full, we splashed the contents around with great abandon, sharing it generously with friends and pouring stoaters without care. Once the level drops below the plimsol line though, you start to think ‘gosh, that’s getting low. Better go easy… maybe I’ll save it for a special occasion’. It can be even worse when you’re a somewhat slack whisky writer: ‘Oh man, I should really get around to reviewing this. Sometime. Hmm, I better leave some in there… I’ll definitely get around to it soon’.

To kill or not to kill…

Sentiment plays a part in prolonging the life of a bottle as well. The attachment of a particular memory to a particular bottle means that we can cling even harder to the remains, fighting against our natural urges as top predator in the whisky food web. For example, I bought that bottle of Dalwhinnie as a present for my dad over six years ago. When he died in 2013, I inherited it. The stupid thing in this case is that there isn’t any particular sentimental value attached to it. It wasn’t his favourite whisky, we didn’t spend a magical night bonding over it, or a wild night getting shit-faced on it.

Yet for some reason I haven’t been able to force myself to do the dirty deed and finish it off. It just sits there gathering dust and, stupidly on my part, potentially diminishing in quality and strength. Look, if I’m forced to dig deep for an honest reason for my reticence, I think I’ve just been using the tenuous sentimental value to put off having to write a review about it. Which come to think of it, is definitely the reason that I’ve been hoarding the last slick of my Nikka Yoichi 15 for too many years. Ugh, motivation, why are you such an indolent mistress?

Pity it’s not a full bottle these days…

Perhaps it’s just an excuse to keep buying new bottles?

So what is the point of this rambling musing? I think we need to be brave, to step up to the crease and face down that last dram before it’s too late. Sometime you’ve got to kill the things you love. It’s the kindest thing to do.

Just, some other time maybe…

Scotland 2018: The Ultimate Whisky Adventure – Part Three

Posted by: Nick

In July 2018 I realised the ultimate Waffler’s dream and spent nine days travelling whisky’s motherland. I did not waste a moment.

9 days: 20 distilleries.

PART THREE: Islay – the western half

I had been through sunny Speyside and the spectacular Highlands (and Islands) and my whisky journey was nearly at an end. Of course, there was one crucial destination I had not yet covered. In fact, you could argue I’d left the best until last.

It is almost compulsory for any whisky fanatic to make the pilgrimage to the Isle of Islay. Nowhere in the world is there a higher concentration of top-quality distilleries within a short drive (or, in some cases, a short walk). I could not contain my excitement. The ferry took us into the beautiful seaside town of Port Ellen, sailing past some limewashed buildings where I could just make out the giant letters painted on their side, spelling Ardbeg, Lagavulin and finally Laphroaig.

However, the Port Ellen big three would have to wait. I had only two and a half days in this whisky-wonderland and not a moment to lose.

I began with the oldest distillery on the Island, Bowmore. I’ve been impressed with several bottles from this distillery but more often than not have been left underwhelmed and slightly confused. The tour satisfied the latter complaint – revealing the future core range to consist of a NAS, a 12 Year Old, a 15 and an 18 (don’t panic fellow ‘Darkest’ fans – this particular favourite is simply becoming THE 15 Year Old). The highlight of the visit however was the special release, the Warehouseman’s 17 Year Old. 51.3%, matured in bourbon, sherry and red wine, it was balanced and oozed sophistication like anyone wearing a pearl necklace, including David Bowie. In fact, like Bowie it was a bit psychedelic, a bit folky, a bit glam and a bit disco. It was the real star… man.

Breakfast whisky out of the way it was time for the next course. And lunch was the one and only Bruichladdich. If there was just one distillery I could recommend to visit for tastings it would be this one – if only for of the variety… and quantity! Their self-titled range is full of vibrant spicy malted barley notes, the Port Charlotte releases are smoky and bacony and the Octomores… Don’t expect them to smash you around the face with peat, peat and more peat. They are nuanced, balanced and complex – and packing enough fire to make Arthur Brown happy. They’re Audrey Hepburn with her cigarette holder in one hand… and a cigar in the other… at a bbq… under a volcano. Bruichladdich are such an exciting, progressive distillery. They have absolutely struck the right balance between NAS and integrity. You’ll find no mention of “flavour-led” here”, just bloody good drops – and plenty of them.

Remarkably, the destination I was most excited for was yet to come. Being a Tassie boy, there was one distillery that appealed above all others. Small-scale, paddock to bottle, on a working farm? It was like coming home. My final stop of the day was Kilchoman Distillery.

It was everything I’d hoped for: a tour that felt more like being shown around than hearing a rehearsed script, a peek at the entire production process from malting right through to bottling and a tasting packed with vibrant youthful whiskies that satisfied and intrigued me in equal measure. I had a chat with founder Anthony Wills and we bonded over how his own distillery’s paddock-to-bottle ethos compared to one back in my home state of Tasmania.

A trip to Islay’s west wouldn’t be complete without a visit to the beautiful Port Nahaven

I returned to my tiny eco-hut in Port Ellen pleased as punch. It had been an amazing start to my Islay visit and I was still buzzing… yet I retired to bed (reasonably) early. You see, there was one day I had been waiting the whole trip for. And that was tomorrow…

Home sweet home

The Ultimate Top Three Introductory Whiskies

Posted by: Nick

z back up 2

One of the most commonly asked questions I see around the whisky-scented part of the internet is “I’m new to whisky – which Scotch should I buy?” (It’s always Scotch – never which ‘Lark limited-release’ should I buy. But I digress).

We Wafflers rarely get asked this question – I assume because our frivolity and general tongue-in-cheek nature voids us from such serious inquiries – but regardless, I wanted to share my own two cents worth. Why? Because I am unequivocally and without a doubt correct.

It is a big call I know, but I challenge any other objective-minded whisky fan out there to name a better collection of widely available single malts for a newbie. To be clear, one whisky alone is insufficient to demonstrate the depth and breadth of flavours available so I have naturally selected the smallest possible number of bottles: three.

So here they are, in a particular order (that is, the order in which they should be drunk): my top three introductory whiskies:

Number one: Balvenie DoubleWood 12 Year Old

Balvenie Doublewood 12 Year Old Whisky Waffle

This is the gateway drug. Balvenie produce a smooth and yet interesting drop which is one of the tastiest going around. It is fruity and vanillary, and packed full of the sweet caramel that we associate with Speyside. It introduces the elegance that typifies Scotland’s largest whisky region while also touching upon cask types and maturation. Is there a more perfect first drop? No, I can safely say there is not.

Number two: Highland Park 12 Year Old

Highland Park 12

Speyside is not entirely what Scottish whisky is all about. There is a vast array of flavours to be discovered from south to north and the Highland Park 12 Year Old showcases pretty much all of them! It is a proper all-rounder of a whisky, with a little bit of sweetness, a little bit of salty sea air and a little bit of smoke lingering in the background. Even though it is technically from the Islands region, it represents the Scottish Highlands better than most mainland distilleries and it an obvious choice for this list simply for its wide reaching flavour profile.

Number three: Lagavulin 16 Year Old

Lagavulin 16

Some people may claim it is unwise to include a heavily peated Islay malt among the top three introductory drams. Those people are of course wrong. Because upon taking one sip of the Lagavulin, the individual partaking in the tasting will either fall instantly in love – or decide very quickly that peated whisky is not for them and the Balvenie wasn’t so bad after all.

For m’colleague and I it was option number one – there is something truly special about peated whisky – and the Lagavulin 16 is the ideal selection. It is more than just a peated whisky – there are hidden flavours to be discovered due to a small amount of sherry maturation – and there are Nick Offerman videos to quote endlessly.

It may be divisive – but it may also be the key to truly ‘getting’ single malts. Plus this will give the opportunity for someone new to whisky to learn to pronounce ‘Islay’ correctly from the outset.

So there you have it: the ultimate top three introductory whiskies. Obviously it cannot be topped, but if you’d like to try, leave a reply in the comments and tell me your own top three. Or we could start a pointless twitter debate about it if that’s more your style.

If you are a whisky-newbie: you’re welcome. Check back in a couple of weeks when you’re a full convert and enjoy our other reviews!

Commence/keep on waffling!

Jameson Irish Whiskey

Reviewed by: Ted

Jamesons

Like all countries, Ireland has certain things that it is known for. Old guys in flat caps sitting at the end of the bar, four-leafed clovers (5000:1 odds of finding one), improbably placed containers of gold, rocks that you have to kiss upside down, a lack of spuds, complicated socio-religious interplay (although granted that one is pretty common in most countries). In terms of beer it’s Guinness – of course there are other brands, but everyone associates Ireland with the famous ebony nectar, the black custard of Dublin. So what about whiskey? Well, like Guinness, there’s one brand that people associate with the Emerald Isle above all others:

Jameson Irish Whiskey (or Jamoes to its friends) is the best selling Irish whiskey in the world, with around 78 million bottles purchased across the globe in 2017. There’s something iconic about that bright green bottle – I mean, there are other green whisk(e)y bottles around of course (here’s looking at you Laphroaig), but when you walk into a bottle shop and see that bright emerald colour, you instantly associate it with Irish whiskey.

The bottle claims that Jameson has been established since 1780, however the truth is a little more convoluted. The Bow Street Distillery in Dublin was actually originally founded by a family called the Steins in 1780. John Jameson, a lawyer from Alloa in Clackmannanshire, married Margaret Haig (the Haigs were a notable distilling family) in 1786, before moving to Dublin to manage the Bow Street Distillery for the Steins (who were relatives of Margaret). In 1810 John and his son, also John, took over the company and officially renamed it to the John Jameson & Son Irish Whiskey Company.

In its heyday, the Bow Street Distillery was the second largest in the country and one of the largest in the world. However, during the 20th century the Irish whiskey industry went into sharp decline, thanks a combination of factors including a devastating trade war with the British Empire and the rise of prohibition in the USA, locking Irish distillers out of their major markets. In 1966, John Jameson & Son merged with John Power & Son and the Cork Distilleries Company to form the Irish Distillers Group, basing themselves out of a new purpose-built facility at Midleton.

The modern Jameson Irish Whiskey is made using a blend of grain spirit and triple distilled single pot still spirit, all produced in-house on New Midleton Distillery’s massive pot stills and column stills. The spirit is then allowed to age between 4 and 7 years in a combination of ex-bourbon and ex-oloroso sherry casks before being bottled at 40% ABV. The use of triple distillation, which is an iconic trait of Irish distilling (Scotland generally only distills twice), means that Jameson has a reputation for being incredibly smooth and easy drinking.

The nose is light and floral, with honey, beeswax, hazelnut, peach, apple, musk, mandarin and marmalade. There’s also a dash of sultanas lurking in the background from the Olorosso influence.

The mouth feel is extremely smooth for such a young whiskey, which can be attributed to the triple distillation ironing out some of the kinks as well as the neutral base provided by the grain spirit. The flavour is nutty through the mid palate before opening up to a spicy finish and a sweet aftertaste that lingers solidly at the back of the tongue.

The easy going flavours and smooth-as-a-baby’s-bum palate means that the Jamoes is not only an excellent introduction to Irish whiskey, but also to whisk(e)y drinking in general. Even the most novice of dram slayers should be able to find something pleasing to the senses in the contents of the green bottle. The voice of the great unwashed agrees too, with a pretty much universally high rating across online sellers. If you’re looking for an easy drinking whiskey that definitely won’t break the budget and tastes half decent to boot, then the Jameson Irish Whiskey has your back.

As the Jameson motto says, buy this one Sine Metu, or ‘Without Fear’.

★★★

#IrishWhiskeyWeek

Return to Redlands

Posted by: Nick and Ted

They grow up so fast, don’t they? When we last visited paddock-to-bottle distillery Redlands in 2014, their spirit was still too young to be released and head distiller Dean Jackson was only just filling barrel number 42.

Fast forward two years and the shelves are stocked with elegant (cuboid) bottles of Redlands paddock-to-bottle Tasmanian single malt and Dean is busy filling bottle number 271. Oh, and did we mention that the distillery has moved 50km up the road to a new site?

Knock knock! Wafflers at the door.

After the sale of the Redlands Estate property in late 2015, the distillery was faced with the challenge of finding a new home in just 21 days. After several weeks of stress-filled searching, they eventually settled on what they hoped would be the perfect venue: the heritage listed Dysart House in the small southern-midlands town of Kempton.

From the moment you push open the (heavy) front door you can tell that Redlands has fallen on its feet. The main house is built from beautiful sandstone blocks and the dark timbered interior houses the cellar door, kitchen, a sitting room with high backed leather chesterfields (careful not to slide off – Brigitte likes to keep them well polished) and a glorious blackwood table (which only made its way inside with help from Whisky Waffle’s muscle).

The sitting (and drinking whisky) room

The distillery and bond store can be found in a red-bricked outbuilding off the side of the main house. Redlands’ continued growth is evidenced by the addition of a new still, with the (now) wash still, Heather, joined by new spirit still, affectionately known as the Mad Hatter. The bond store continues to expand, now housing hundreds of 20 and 100 litre barrels that once contained pinot noir, port, sherry and even Tokay.

Heather and the Hatter

These days if you visit Redlands, you will be able to try some of the most elegant, drinkable and delicious whisky Tasmania has to offer. Redlands’ signature release is aged in Tasmanian ex-pinot noir barrels and is like drinking apricot jam. The unusual ex-tokay barrel release is broad and full across the palate, oozing with dark berries, while the ex-port barrel, which we tried at cask strength, offers marmalade, honey and vanilla.

A wonderful room to drink wonderful whisky

Redlands has changed so much in the last two years, but they have even grander plans afoot for the near future. While the old brick outbuildings are charming and old-worldy, they simply don’t have any space for expansion as the distillery scales up production. The solution to this problem is the construction of a facility in the adjacent field, with work scheduled to begin in 2017. The new distillery will allow for a greater output, allowing the Redlands single malt to be enjoyed by a much larger audience.

The sale of the old Redlands estate could have easily spelled the doom of the distillery; instead it luckily seems to have made it stronger. Who knows what the future will bring, but you can be certain that Whisky Waffle will be back to find out.

…and next time we’ll bring Dean a box to stand on in the photo!

The Arran Malt Amarone Cask Finish

Reviewed by: Nick

Traditionally, the world of Scottish whisky is very – well – traditional. When popping champagne for Ardbeg’s two hundredth year, we somewhat neglected the rather less impressive twentieth birthday of the Arran Distillery. But distilleries are only as good as the products they are currently creating, and there is a lot to like about the bottles presently leaving the Isle of Arran.

As well as a range of age statement whiskies they have a variety of cask finish expressions, and the one I happened to get my grubby little mitts on was finished in Amarone barrels. For the uneducated, which I will freely admit to being one of before buying the bottle, Amarone is a dry Italian red wine made from grapes such as Corvina, Rondinella and Molinara. Yup, me neither.

I’ve had an up and down relationship with wine-matured whiskies, though one aspect I universally love is their amazing colours. The Arran is no exception – this whisky is the coppery orange of traditional creaming soda. The nose is alluring, giving the impression of alcohol soaked fruits eaten at Christmas time. There are cherries and strawberries as well as honey and syrupy cola.

The palate is rich and spicy, aided immensely by the higher bottling strength of 50%. It is delightfully creamy with large dollops of toffee, oranges and Turkish delight. The finish is dry with notes of oak and dark chocolate, and is pleasingly long and warming.

While the Arran Malt does not boast the long history of many distilleries, this should not in any way be held against it. A glorious Scottish past does not always equal quality in the present. Just ask Rangers Football Club.

★★★★

Glendronach 12 Year Old

Reviewed by: Nick

Now, be honest with me. Raise your right hand if you have bought, with your own money, in the last six months, a bottle of sherry? Anyone? I thought as much.

The once proud sherry industry is declining slowly, but surely. While on the surface this may not seem to really affect we drinkers of distilled barley, there is, in fact, much cause for concern. Because without sherry, specifically, without the barrels that once contained the stuff, many of the most wonderful whiskies in the world would not exist.

Case in point: the Glendronach 12 Year Old. And it is a great little drop. Vibrant, spicy, balanced and heavily sherried. The latter is not a subjective tasting note. The whisky does indeed possess a highly sherried character because it has been matured in a mixture of Pedro Ximinez and Oloroso sherry barrels.

The flavour this imparts is obvious on the nose in the form of sweet creamy raisin aromas. There is a golden syrup-like quality, too, alongside dried figs and orange peel.

On the palate the flavours are, surprisingly, not as sweet as the nose suggests. However it has a smooth mouth feel and the creaminess is still present. There is a nuttiness about it as well, and more dried fruit with perhaps a touch of glace cherries. Little wonder sherry-matured whiskies are regularly likened to fruitcake.

The finish is short, disappointingly, as up to this point I was immensely enjoying the ride. Wait – there it is, ever so subtly lingering at the back of the throat with the remnants of the grape flavours. I had to go searching for this one, but I found once discovered it glows faintly, like the last few embers of a campfire.

The sweetness of this whisky is nice, although it would probably discourage me from having too many drams of this in the one night. Instead, this is the perfect choice to directly follow a bourbon-aged malt at a tasting, to really show just how radically different sherry matured whisky is.

We may as well enjoy it for the time being. Because as time rolls on there will be fewer and fewer sherry barrels around to put whisky in.

★★★