Scarabus!

  Kapow!

Sometimes when we are tasting a new scotch, whatever conversation had been going on continues. There'll be a few murmurs of appreciation for what we are tasting. Someone might remark on an element of its mouthfeel or taste. Someone else might note that they don't like it as much as what we had before. And then someone will say something unrelated about Donald Trump.

But sometimes when we are tasting a new scotch, all conversation ceases and we look at each other, eyes wide. "Wow!" "Holy crap!" "Kapow!"

Scarabus was the latter. One sip, and our mouths were filled with such an intensity of flavour that we were all taken aback. This is a whisky you taste not only on your tongue, but on the roof of your mouth, the insides of your cheeks, and the back of your throat. And you keep on tasting it for five, ten, maybe fifteen minutes after. 

We loved it. The irony was that we approached it with a higher than normal level of skepticism and cynicism, which is saying a lot for us (we can be a crusty bunch). This is because it is labeled as Islay, but it's an independent bottling by Hunter Laing, who refuses to divulge which of the nine Islay distilleries they sourced it from. In fact, they take pride in the "mystery" element. Scotch reviewers have variously guessed Caol Isla, Bunnahabhain Toiteach A Dha, and Bruichladdich Port Charlotte 10. We happen to have the latter two in our stocks, so the idea was to line them up and unmask Hunter Laing's silly deception. Silly us. There was no way to make a rational comparison. Maybe the Bunnahabhain, but only maybe? This is a completely different beast. At first we thought that perhaps the hefty 57% abv was distorting the picture, but even watered down, the Scarabus retained an intensity that the others, albeit lovely whiskies in their own right, did not have.

Oh well. When it's good, it's good, so we're happy to set our prejudices aside. It's perhaps interesting to note that the other whisky that made a similarly big impression this year was also an independent bottling, the Chorlton Ardmore 12 year old. Two doesn't make a trend, but it is at the very least a happy coincidence. A very happy coincidence.

Slainte!

Refighting the American War of Independence

It wasn't a fair fight. It wasn't even a good idea. On the eve of the celebration of the 248th anniversary of the American Declaration of Independence, the Cabinet decided to pitch bourbon against scotch. American whiskey against British whisky. Appalachia against Caledonia. And may the best dram, or snort if you prefer, claim a momentary reaffirmation of history or a rewriting of it. Not that the War of Independence had anything to do with whisky. In fact, America's first military engagement after its victory over the redcoats was in 1794 against its own people in the Whiskey Rebellion wherein federal troops violently asserted the right of Washington to tax whiskey production. Ironic, eh?

But nevermind. This is not about history. This is about the fact that once a year the Cabinet Secretary is inexplicably seized with the optimism that all the chatter about how much better bourbon is becoming has finally developed a basis in fact. Let's jump to the chase and not leave you contorted in suspense. It has not. Bourbon is still... bourbon. Shocking.

Before I go on and stoke a flood of hate mail, let me be clear that I fully recognize that this is completely subjective. Some people love bourbon. Some people love vodka. Some people love water. Everybody has their own preferences. We, at the Cabinet, love scotch. So scotch has an automatic and deep advantage in any contest against any other beverage. But we did try to level the field as much as possible by pitting one of the best reviewed and most expensive bourbons available locally against a middling scotch in the same price range and roughly similar style. Nothing peated. That would be putting Conor McGregor in the ring with... me. 

So it was the Michter's Small Batch Kentucky Straight Whiskey against the Auchentoshan Three Wood. The Michter's was fine, but dull. Malt and alcohol. No finish to speak of. Nice colour though. The Auchentoshan Three Wood was also "fine" and also dull, but less dull. Some other stuff was going on in there. We like the other stuff. An easy win. God Save the King.

We also tried the Basil Hayden's Kentucky Bourbon which has a pedigree extending back to just after the Whiskey Rebellion. Also fine but dull.

It was turning into a bit of dud of an evening. Not socially or conversationally, mind you, but with the tasting. Fortunately we had a clever guest that night who brought along a special bottling of a "Secret Speyside" by Glenkeir Treasures, which I understand to be a housebrand for the Whisky Shop. Leif brought it from Edinburgh many years ago. Marvelous. Light in colour and body, but feinty and sharp on the palate with a lovely long finish.

Had George III plied the colonists with something like this, history would have taken a different course. I'm sure of it.

Slainte!

B-List Redux

The Cabinet met last week to once again enjoy whiskies whose names begin with the letter B. We did this before, in September of 2021. The fact that the three selections this time were all different than last time is a testament to how many distilleries have B names. Since you asked, there are 19 in total. G is, however, the clear winner with 27 distilleries, and A is a close third at 17. No other letters come anywhere near to the top three.

Oh, you didn't ask? My apologies. But now you know. And arcane trivia such as this can become useful at the most unexpected of times. I hope that is the case here.

This is of course one of the most arbitrary ways to line up a tasting, but as I noted in the last "Life Is Random" post, there is a charm and deeper logic to arbitrariness. And to be honest, the embedded joke in calling something "b-list" is hard to resist. Especially when, metaphorically speaking, they were all actually "A-list". It helped that all three were from Islay. We love our Islay whiskies, we do.

The first selection was the Bunnahabhain Toiteach a Dha. That's a Gaelic mouthful, but the cylinder helpfully provides a pronunciation guide, and a translation. Toiteach a Dha means "smokey two". The "two" because it is a follow-up to the original Toiteach. This one differs by having been aged in a sherry cask. We pronounced it delicious.

Next was the much loved Bowmore 15. I say much loved, because we've always praised it. It reliably ticks all the boxes we look for: complexity, intensity, full-mouth experience, long finish. Yet, immediately following the Bunnahabhain, it seemed to pale slightly. Nonetheless, we also pronounced it delicious.

And finally, a newcomer to Manitoba and to The Cabinet: the Bruichladdich Port Charlotte 10. Wow. This also ticked the boxes and then some. We instantly pronounced it delicious. A polite debate ensued regarding the merits of this versus the Bunnahabhain. Subjective, of course. And an exercise in picking a favourite among favourites. Consequently, in a departure from our fourth and final pour tradition, the group split on the selection. Each to his own. Everyone was happy.

Slainte!

Life Is Random

You know this, right? You know that life is so full of random forces, encounters, and events that we may as well just summarize the situation by stating plainly that "life is random". Starting right from when a specific random sperm met a specific random egg. Oh, we do try to exert free will, but if you are strong believer in the impact of these exertions, I encourage you to read the neuroscientist, Robert Sapolsky.

You pause a moment and double-check the blog URL. 

Yes, you're still on https://whiskycabinet.blogspot.com/, not https://philosophywanker.blogspot.com/.

Patience, grasshopper.

But whisky selection is surely not random, you say. The tasting themes The Cabinet so artfully crafts six times a year are clearly the product of deepest thought and learned consideration, are they not? I'm glad you think so. I'm glad that you are comforted by this illusion. But the truth is - sensitive readers may wish to skip ahead to the next paragraph - most of the time it's a last minute inspiration pulled out of the air. A whim. And what is a whim but the random sparking of a neuron. I apologize if I have disappointed anyone with this revelation.

So we decided to celebrate the true nature of life and strip the artifice away from the process. Our many whiskies were written on slips of paper and placed in a hat. A Laphroaig hat, no less. (Although, as you'll see, this had no impact on the outcome.) The hat was given a shake. The slips were given a stir. Random drinking began.

1: Bruichladdich Organic 2010.

2: The King's Inch.

3: Ardbeg An Oa

4: Deveron 12 year old.

We were delighted. These are not all stellar malts (for the record, the favourite was the Ardbeg, and the least favourite, the Deveron - no surprises there), but the process of serendipity and surprise was very enjoyable.

Those of you with sharp memories will have noticed that two of these random selections appeared at the last meeting, despite there being about 40 to choose from. This, dear reader, is what is known as Poisson Clumping. No, it has nothing to do with fish. It is named for the French mathematician who first described how random events will tend to cluster. An even distribution is the opposite of random. That's how you can get heads on six coin tosses and it's still random. Or pick An Oa and King's Inch just a couple months after they were last sampled. 

So that's 60% philosophy, 25% mathematics, and only 15% whisky description. I hope the photographs make up for it. And if not, just think of the blog as random too. 

Slainte!

Since you made this far, I have a bonus quiz question for you. Which photo in this post was not taken by the Official Photographer to The Cabinet?

Tak' The Low Road

O ye'll tak' the high road, and I'll tak' the low road,

And I'll be in Scotland afore ye,

But me and my true love will never meet again,

On the bonnie, bonnie banks o' Loch Lomond.

So goes the chorus of the classic Scottish song, "The Bonnie Banks 'o Loch Lomond". The Cabinet met last week to take a version of the low road. But before I get into that, a bit of trivia for you: the low road referred to in the song is death, the road the spirits take. The singer has been killed in the Jacobite wars and is returning to Scotland via that lowest of roads. That's why he and his true love will never meet again. A bit dark. But marvelous.

We did not take that low road. Obviously. Rather we took the Lowland road, and sampled the output of two distilleries near Glasgow. And the reason for that was that our first meeting of the year is always held as close as possible to Robbie Burns Day. Those of us who have kilts wear them. Burns lived in Dumfries, as low as you can get in the Lowlands, so these whisky choices seemed a fitting way to mark the occasion.

The Lowlands have very few distilleries, and even less are available here, so we had to satisfy ourselves with two Auchentoshans, the 12 year old and the Three Wood, and the new(ish) King's Inch from the Courageous Spirits distillery. These were all fine, but none were spectacular. The King's Inch, with it's green apple nose, and fruity flavours was the most interesting, and the Three Wood was enjoyable, with its dominant rich caramel. The 12 year old, however, was thin and dull. None had much of a finish. The Lowlands indeed. 

We wrapped up the evening with a detour to our favoured isle and the Ardbeg An Oa. Even though it didn't exist 230 years ago, Burns would have approved. Actually, probably not. He probably would have hated it. But he took the low road long ago, so we can safely put words in his mouth. 

"Ye're brilliant gentlemen, enjoy yer peaty Islay dram!" - Robbie Burns posthumous quote, January 26, 2024.

Slainte Robbie!

Member's Choice Night, 2023

Our annual tradition of long standing is to have a rotation of members select the whiskies for the last meeting of the year. This most recent edition of "Member's Choice Night" could be called "From The Vaults". The three members assigned to make the selections asked the Secretary to submit a list of the bottles that had sat the longest since last being tasted. 

Capital idea! 

From this list they chose: 

Benriach 12 year old (last tasted in 2016)

Arran Cognac Cask (last tasted in 2012)

Aberfeldy 21 year old (last tastes in 2016)

The first thing we noticed was the dust. Nothing says "this bottle has been neglected in the cellar for years" like a good encrustation of dust. And so it was. 

In these pages we've previously discussed our fears regarding the effects of oxidation. All of these bottles were more than half empty and had a lot of oxygen rich head space to interact with during those many long dark lonely years, yet all of them were still delightful. Perhaps not as delightful as they once were (but then who among us is?) but delightful enough that it made for a very jolly evening of tasting.

To our surprise, the most delightful was the Benriach. At 46% abv, it's not cask strength, but it is more potent than the average scotch, and it packs a wallop of flavour. This is a full mouth experience with a long slow, marvelously astringent, finish. Somewhat bizarrely, the Arran was quite similar. I say bizarrely as it's an Island malt, whereas the Benriach is a Speyside, and it's a cognac cask finish, as opposed to sherry cask, and it is fully cask strength at 59.5%. Yet, there was a commonality in flavour profile. In a good way.

Trailing the pack was the thinner, lighter Aberfeldy 21. Still delightful, but just not as delightful. It's all relative.

To round the night off, we returned to the exceptional cask strength Chorlton bottling of the Ardmore 12 year old that appeared at our last meeting. This was our favourite whisky of 2023 and thus a fitting way to finish the year.

Slainte!

Alt Islay

The Cabinet assembled last week to, in theory, explore a few alternative malts from Islay. In other words, some of the recent bottlings that have moved away from traditional age statements. I write "in theory" because in actuality, the star of the evening came from somewhere else entirely. It came from near Kennethmont in the Highlands, some 370 km northeast of Islay, and it came via Manchester and Nurnberg.

I will explain.

The Cabinet has a firm membership of seven, but guests are welcome to join us (one at a time please). On the evening in question we enjoyed the company of a guest who has been with us twice before. This might be a record. In the past she has come from Mumbai, but now she is based in Nurnberg, Germany. And now (and of much greater interest to our members and readers), she has source in the UK who supplies her with the special bottlings of Chorlton Whiskies in Manchester:  https://chorltonwhisky.co.uk/uncategorized/chorlton-whisky-bottlings/  (Take note of the beautiful labels. They're all medieval in origin not only because of the aesthetics, but because they are public domain and royalty free.)

This is how the non-Islay 60.7% abv Ardmore 12 year old (bottled in December 2022) came to dominate our Alt Islay night. And dominate in the happiest possible way. There was some sentiment in the room that this was the best whisky we have tasted this year. It is a beast. A beautiful, glorious beast that punches you in the mouth. Also in the happiest possible way. We are not masochists. From nose to finish, there is so much going on here that descriptors were piled on top of descriptors. But here on The Cabinet Blog we do not list "hint of this, whiff of that, note of the other". We simply tell you what we like, and how much we like it. We like the Chorlton Ardmore. And we like it a lot.

The guest's other gifts did, however, fit the putative theme. She brought another Chorlton, a Staoisha 8 year old (59.9%, December 2021 bottling), which was also marvelous but in an entirely different, fresher, livelier way. And she presented us with a North Star bottling, the Caol Ila 12 year (2006) at 54.6%. This was very fine too. But very fine sadly stands in the shadows of exceptional.

Joining the Caol Ila in the shadows was a new Bruichladdich "The Organic" 10 year old (50.0%), which was even better than very fine, but still suffered by comparison. It will get its own night to shine at some point in the new year.

And finally the perplexing and infuriating Arbeg "Ardcore" (46.0%). We disliked it before. We tolerate it now. It's difficult to get past the absurd punk theming and the ridiculous price point - double the Bruichladdich. Presented blind it would fair better. It would be fine. Probably not very fine, but fine. But context is important. Context is where half the fun is.

What a night.

Slainte!