waffler

Green Spot Single Pot Still Irish Whiskey

Reviewed by: Ted

Maker:S,Date:2017-9-13,Ver:6,Lens:Kan03,Act:Lar02,E-Y

The history of life on Earth is patterned with extinction. Ever since the first cells formed from the primordial soup some 4 billion years ago, countless species have risen, only to be swept away by the tides of history. Some extinctions are so devastating that they shake the tree of life to its very roots; for example the Permian-Triassic Extinction Event approx. 252 million years ago is estimated to have wiped out around 90% of all species living at that time.

The rise of modern humans (Homo sapiens) some 200000 years ago certainly hasn’t helped matters. While perhaps lacking the immediate punch of an asteroid impact, humans have both directly and indirectly had a hand in wiping out hundreds of species during our time on Earth. Hunting pressure is hypothesised to have played a role in the disappearance of a whole bunch of megafauna species 10000-50000 years ago, while we know that was definitely what killed off species such as the Thylacine (Thylacinus cynocephalus), the Western Black Rhino (Dioceros bicornis longipes) and the Passenger Pigeon (Ectopistes migratorius) which, thanks to a merciless hunting campaign, went from an incredible estimated population of 3 billion to be completely wiped out in the space of the 19th century. Other factors influenced by human activity also play their hand, such as habitat destruction, pollution, disease and anthropogenic driven climate change.

Yet hope springs eternal and many species that look doomed to go the way of the Dodo (Raphus cucullatus) somehow continue to cling tenaciously to the brink, sometimes even managing to claw their way back a bit: The Orange-Bellied Parrot (Neophema chrysogaster) from Tasmania, the Merendón Mountains Snaileater (Sibon merendonensis) from Guatemala, the Wollemi Pine (Wollemia nobilis) from Australia, the Volcan Tajumulco Bromeliad Salamander (Dendrotriton bromeliacius) from Mexico, Eisentraut’s Mouse Shrew (Mysorex eisentrauti) from Equatorial Guinea, Green Spot Whiskey (Maculatum viridialis) from Ireland.

From its origins sometime between 1000AD -1400AD (although the fossil record is still unclear whether the common ancestor of whisk(e)y initially arose in Ireland or Scotland), by the mid 1800’s Irish whiskey (Phylum Hibernica) had ascended to become the dominant grain-based spirit on Earth, with Dublin alone producing around 45.5 million litres of whiskey per annum. The most popular style was Single (or Pure) Pot Still Whiskey (Order Bihordeales), made using a mixture of malted and unmalted barley (Hordeum vulgare) (sometimes also utilising a small amount of other cereals such as wheat (Triticum sp.) or oats (Avena sativa)) and usually triple distilled (Class Trinephela) as per the Irish tradition. The style had initially started as a way of dodging a 1785 tax on malted barley, but quickly came to surpass single malt whiskey (Order Monohordeales) due to its popularity.

By the early 20th Century however, the Irish whiskey industry was in massive decline due to a combination of factors. War (the Irish War of Independence, followed by a civil war and then a trade war where the British Empire, Ireland’s biggest market, banned import of Irish whiskey), prohibition in the US (cutting out Ireland’s second biggest market) and questionable political and management decisions all left the Irish industry hurting. In addition, the wide scale uptake of the Coffey still (Subclass Semperfluida), ironically an Irish invention, by the Scottish distilling industry led to the meteoric (pun intended) rise of blended Scotch whisky (Phylum Caledonica, Order Mígmales), which by the turn of the century had overtaken the Irish market. The population of Irish distilleries went into free fall, the hundreds of distilleries that had once operated during the 18th and 19th centuries gradually vanishing until by the 1970’s only two were left, themselves amalgamations of a handful of survivors who had banded together for survival and mainly focused on blends.

What then of the the king of the Emerald Isles, the Single Pot Still Whiskey, the keystone style in the Irish ecosystem? By the time the 80’s rolled around, only two lonely members of this once great lineage were left, one being Redbreast (Rubus pectales) and the other Green Spot (Maculatum viridialis), a curious beastie in it’s own right. Mitchell & Son est. 1887, wine and spirit merchants based in Kildare St, Dublin, would purchase single pot still-style spirit from the nearby Jameson’s Bow Street Distillery and then age it in their own bond store. For the first five years of maturation, half the spirit was kept in casks that had contained darker styles such as oloroso and PX, while the other half spent its time in casks that had been used for lighter finos. After this initial aging period the casks were vatted together and then put under oak again for a further five years before bottling.

Maker:S,Date:2017-9-13,Ver:6,Lens:Kan03,Act:Lar02,E-Y

Originally known as Pat Whiskey, it was rebranded as John Jameson & Son Green Seal in the 30’s, before becoming simply known as Green Spot. Due to its popularity, other Spot variants soon emerged, with the 10yo Green Spot joined by a 7yo Blue Spot (Maculatum caerulea), 12yo Yellow Spot (Maculatum flaveolens) and a 15yo Red Spot (Maculatum rubrum), the names apparently deriving from the practise of marking barrels with a daub of paint to differentiate between the various age statements. The plight of the Irish whiskey industry soon took its toll however, with only the Green Spot surviving of its relatives. Matters became particularly grim when John Jameson & Son, the source of single pot still spirit for Green Spot, merged with John Power & Son and the Cork Distilleries Co. to form Irish Distillers, basing themselves at the New Midleton Distillery. Fortunately Mitchell & Son were able to strike a deal with Irish Distillers to allowed continued production of single pot still spirit at New Midleton (where Redbreast is also made), saving the brand from extinction. A slightly controversial stipulation of the deal was that the spirit had to be aged on-site in Midleton’s own casks, but Mitchell & Son still retained exclusive rights to the brand and its distribution.

Modern Green Spot has evolved to become a non-age statement release containing 7-10yo single pot still whiskeys aged in a combination of new and second fill american oak ex-bourbon cask and the brand’s traditional sherry cask. The colour is probably significantly lighter than its original ancestor, but still has a burnished red-gold hue thanks to the continued presence of sherry casking.

The nose is warm and fruity, abounding with peach, banana, pineapple, lemon and coconut, as well as polished timber, grape seed oil, crushed grass and grains.

The mouth is moderately sharp, yielding honeycomb, apricot, salt, aromatic herbs, pinot and oak, as well as a curious smokiness that briefly appears in the first few sips. The finish is relatively dry and leaves a pleasant citrus tang with undertones of cinnamon, cloves and cassia.

Lovers of Irish whiskey should be grateful that careful conservation efforts have prevented Green Spot and the Single Pot Still style from dying out in the wild completely. In fact, the famed whisk(e)y naturalist Jim Murray has been noted as stating that Green Spot is “…to the true Irish whiskey drinker what the Irish Round Tower is to the archaeologist…Unquestionably one of the world’s great whiskies.” In even better news, the style is now starting to make a resurgence, with a small population of the rare Malaga-matured Yellow Spot 12yo (Maculatum flaveolens malagaensis) being rediscovered, as well as new producers such as Dingle (Family Parvosonitaceae) emerging.

In summary, everything comes to an end eventually right? Luckily on occasion the inevitable can be staved off for a while and second chances granted. As such, I highly recommend that you make it a goal to sample the Green Spot before your own personal extinction comes upon you.

★★★★

BONUS – Alcohol Taxonomic Hierarchy

Ex. Green Spot

Domain – Alcohol – Spirita

Kingdom – Type – Whisk(e)y

Phylum – Origin – Hibernica

Class – Distillations – Trinephela

Order – Style – Bihordeales

Family – Distillery – Novaemidletonaceae

(Tribe – Independant bottler – Mitchellfileae)

Genus & species – Variety – Maculatum viridialis

#IrishWhiskeyWeek

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Glen Grant The Major’s Reserve

Reviewed by: Nick

Glen Grant Majors Reserve

I freely admit, as I begin this review, that my primary motivation when purchasing this bottle was the fact that it was cheap. In fact, I recall as a broke uni student I had bought it for exactly the same reason. I also remember not being overly impressed. However, these days, with a more… ahem… experienced palate, surely I would find something to enjoy in Glen Grant’s entry level release. Surely there was more to this whisky than simply being cheap.

Upon opening the plain packaging I discovered a rarity in the single malt world: a screw top lid. Now, I can forgive them this because, after all, they’re indirectly saving the planet with such an approach, however this fact did nothing to shake the ‘cheap’ tag. Only one thing could: the flavour… and it let me down.

The nose has that cloying red-label-esque sweetness of lemon dish detergent alongside toffee-apple and honey notes. It is passable but not memorable. The palate is pretty rough, though offers some nice barley notes set against oak and vanilla. It is typical Speyside fare, though far from one of my favourites. The finish is spicy, malty and a little buttery. Again, nothing offensive but equally, nothing special.

The Glen Grant Major’s reserve is a whisky that epitomises its price point. It doesn’t punch above its weight but it also remains fairly quaffable. It is a cheap single malt and tastes as such. But hey, on the plus side, at least it doesn’t cost much!

★★

Mendis Old Arrack

Reviewed by: Mum’s the Word

Mendis Old Arrack

Foreword by Ted:

Long-time readers of Whisky Waffle will know that I occasionally mention my mother on the blog, usually after she’s sourced something for me while travelling. Behind the scenes I usually run articles by her just to make sure the grammar is correct and there are no spelling mistakes.

Well, in a surprise move, Catherine has jumped down the rabbit hole and submitted a review all of her own after a visit to Sri Lanka. Arrack (not to be confused with Arak) is a South-East Asian spirit distilled from fermented coconut flower sap, although the precise methods and ingredients vary from place to place. The Sri Lankan version reviewed here is actually made rather like whisky, with the sap fermented in wooden washbacks before being twice distilled and finally aged in halmilla-wood vats for up to 15 years.

Now, Whisky Waffle purists will note that Arrack doesn’t contain a grain as its base and therefore is outside the usual remit of our blog. I on the other hand suspect it is rather poor form to turn your mother down when she has gone to the effort of writing you an article, so we’re more than happy to make the exception. And Arrack is sometimes known as Sri Lankan whisky, so there! So, sit back and enjoy this fresh article by Mum’s the Word:

Sri Lanka

When I have occasionally had a sniff of whisky, and a bit of a taste, my sinuses are generally cleared instantly and my taste buds and palate set on fire.

Not so on this occasion. In the spectacular setting of Ella in Sri Lanka I tasted Arrack – a Sri Lankan spirit made from the fermented juice of coconut flowers. The particular version I tried was the Mendis Old Arrack 100% Pure Coconut Arrack, naturally aged in halmilla (wood from the Tricomalee tree) vats.

The nose was mild (did not offend the sinuses) and faintly perfumed – coconut flowers? The first sip was sweetish with subtle flavours of … coconut? [Ed. Are you surprised?] The general flavours were reminiscent of Mum’s rice pudding or a delicate crème caramel (the WW boys would find many more descriptive words, but they have the ‘experience’ AKA the gift of the gab!) but there certainly was an alcoholic kick – especially after the third slug.

I think the subtle flavours would have been lost if diluted with ice/coke/soda as some of the group had, but served neat for me was delicious. It paired very well with a home-cooked Sri Lankan curry meal, the flavour being savoury, mildly spicy and certainly not sweet.

A certain Whisky Waffler son admitted a sneaking suspicion that he had tried Arrack before … “I say sneaking because I’m pretty sure I was kinda wasted at the time,” so anything he may be able to contribute on the subject may not count [Ed. Oh, and may I enquire just how much you had to drink, eh?]. I was planning to buy some Arrack in Sri Lanka duty free for further tasting with the expert advice of said son, but they didn’t have any!! Weird and disappointing.

Arrack would be a great start for the novice whisky/spirit drinker who did not want to be knocked off their seats.

★★★★  (but who am I to say?).

Queries from a first time Waffler

Posted by: Chris C aka The Geriatric Newbie, with a foreword by Nick

We waffle boys like to consider ourselves experts in the field of whisky simply because we drink a fair bit of the stuff. In truth we are merely charlatans in matching shirts. However, across several years and countless drams we do seem to have picked up a fact or two about the water of life, which is brilliant when like minded whisky fans write to us with a question or two. We recently received a piece of such correspondence from a Western Australian by the name of Chris that we found so brilliantly entertaining and so… waffle-like – that we had to share it with the wider whisky community. After all, a fair few fellow-bloggers check out our little site so the more answers we can compile the better. So without further ado, may I introduce our latest guest writer: Chris, the first time Waffler.

Wafflers with waffles

Not that sort of waffles. Though the shirt thing is spot on…

I hope you’ll forgive me for firing a few newbie questions at you. I am in need of guidance, as a whisky drinking veteran of some 6 days standing. Well, mostly standing.  Having been a virtual teetotaller for quite some years (sadly, most drinks give me a headache after just one glass) I recently decided to give whisky a chance as, miraculously,  it doesn’t seem to upset the remaining brain cells.

A little over a week ago I passed one of those age milestones that makes you realise that your use-by date is fast approaching.  Even if I haven’t completely lost my marbles, I have to admit that I do seem to misplace them fairly regularly now.  A new, fresh and invigorating hobby and interest was called for. Something that didn’t require me to lie under machinery getting hot, cross and oily or involve painting, repairing, cleaning, or fixing things up.  Anything involving rules, teams or vigorous physical exertion was also out.  So putting aside my historical aversion to whisky and giving it another chance seemed a reasonable punt. And there was a modest pile of ‘birthday money’ that I clearly had a moral duty to use to help stimulate the flagging local retail sector.

So six days ago I ventured into Mundaring (a small town in the hills outside Perth in West Australia) and bought a bottle of Chivas Regal Extra (which a friend who claims to know about these things assured me was at the better end of blended whisky) and a bottle of Glenfiddich 12yr old (on the basis that everybody has heard of it and my younger brother used to drink it many years ago).  So far so good.  I also bought a bottle of dry ginger to use in an emergency (i.e. if I couldn’t hack the whisky on its own).

That night my wife (who fortuitously already owned three Glencairn glasses, which she uses for drinking  white wine. Don’t ask.) and I cracked open the bottles. Hey, not bad!  No headache, no embarrassing collapses. No major cries of pain. We successfully worked out what a 30mil nip looked like but had no idea how to drink it – other  than the basic understanding that you stick it in your mouth and swallow. My ‘palate’ must be fairly robust because I could instantly detect the taste of firewater with notes of rocket fuel and hints of paint stripper. The Chivas was particularly bold in that department.

Some swift Googling soon provided the handy tip to give a glass from a brand new bottle a minute or two to breathe, then to add a wee splash of water and to start with small sips, hold on the tongue for a while, etc.  This gave much better results. The resident expert in alcohol related matters declared herself a more or less instant fan of the Glenfiddich.

The plan was to spend the next few weeks or months slowly developing our whisky drinking skills using the contents of those two bottles. But a curious thing happened.

The next day I awoke not only feeling particularly cheerful, but also feeling an entirely unexpected urge to add to “The Collection”.  After owning a mere two bottles for less than 24hrs, they had mysteriously, and without warning, morphed into the basis for a “Collection”. Odd.  Is that normal?

Later that day I added a bottle of Dalwhinnie 15yr and one of Auchentoshan 3 wood – neither of which I had previously heard of – purely on the basis that some guy on the internet had recommended them as fairly smooth and easy for a novice to tackle without getting too put off.  He was right.

Two days later it somehow seemed essential to broaden “The Collection” by adding a Glenmorangie Quinta Ruban and a Lagavulin 16yr (friends had started offering ‘helpful’ suggestions by this point). These have, temporarily, been left unopened.  And yesterday the compulsion to add “just two more, and then that’s it…” led to the addition of an Aberlour A’bunadh and an intriguing sounding Welsh malt called Penderyn Myth. Birthday money now all gone… starting to eye off the savings account…   Will this strange compulsion ease off any time soon?

chriss-collection

Sir Henry Wood conducting the orchestra in a spirited rendition of ‘Symphony for Throat and Nostrils’ by Pete Hintz (with apologies to Ted’s resident wooden figure)

So far we’ve only opened the first 4 bottles and have been trying to stick to the Dalwhinnie and the Chivas – for now. But last night I decided it was time for the Auchentoshan. I waited until after 4.00pm (new self imposed rule – although I’ve never needed to time alcohol intake before…) and then poured a generous nip, added a small dash of water and stuck my nose in the glass.

Now, I have a fairly decent sized hooter, one that makes quite a comfortable stopper for a Gencairn glass and once plugged in there seemed absolutely no hurry to remove it. Beautiful aromas rose up, reminiscent of the wonderfully rich fruit cakes that my wife has been making this week. Marvellous. Marvellous turning into Magnificent with each fresh inhalation.

Now, nobody had said anything about how long this ‘nosing’ business should take, so surely a few minutes was called for in this case. Keep inhaling – it must surely be good practice? As I breathed slowly and rhythmically, the small amount of air that was able to squeeze past the nose began making a sound very much like Darth Vader. Clearly, The Force was with me now….

Was there a hint of smoke amongst the fruitcake or was it just that the sound reminded me very much of times spent wearing Breathing Apparatus in our local Volunteer Bushfire Brigade? Ah, the nostalgia…drifting gently along on a swirl of memories… the steady pulse of breath going in and out was mesmerising. Hypnotic even.  I may have started purring.

I finally dragged the glass away, intending to fire a finely worded and informative eulogy in my wife’s direction, but quickly realised that that there was now a serious risk that I would just giggle. Or perhaps start watering the whisky down with a few emotional tears.   Is this sort of behaviour common among whisky drinkers???  I can hardly claim to have discovered the Elixir of Youth but, at age 70, it certainly feels like I may have stumbled upon the Elixir of old Age….

How do you pace your enthusiasm?  It feels like I’ve gone from being a virtual teetotaller to a budding dipsomaniac in less than a week!  How many helpings per week seem reasonably sustainable?

And will this new-found desire to waffle on at some length about my new interest to anybody who’ll listen start to fade in a while?

Happy tasting.

Chris.