Approaching The Bard

A week ago tonight The Cabinet met for what would normally be the February meeting but which had to be moved forward, fortuitously coinciding with what we are pleased to call "Robbie Burns Week". This then provided the rough framework for the evening's tasting, with an emphasis on the rough. You see, the whisky landscape two hundred plus years ago was very different and nothing that we can assume Robbie enjoyed is available anymore today. Apparently his favorite tipple was Ferintosh, distilled on Black Isle (perversely a peninsula, not an island, but anyway) near Inverness. This preference may however have been more due to ready availability than anything else as Ferintosh was unavoidable in the late 18th century, having been granted a monopoly by the Crown in thanks for its owner's loyalty during the Jacobite Rebellion (Culloden and all that). It was in any case a Highland whisky, so we selected two Highlands from near Black Isle - Tomatin, 25 miles to the southeast, and Glenmorangie, 25 miles to the northeast - to stand in for the long departed Ferintosh. And then to round things out we tossed in an Auchentoshan to represent the Lowlands as Burns was actually a Lowlander, although he described the whisky of his home region as "rascally stuff".

So that sets the stage as it were. However, we began the evening by permitting a member's choice. This usually leads to a diversity of pours as individual members satisfy their curiosity and particular momentary thirsts - The Cabinet does sport 50 whiskies after all - but that night one member's request for the Jura Superstition set off a chain reaction resulting in everyone drinking the same. Perhaps we were all feeling lazy. It wasn't a bad idea though, island, Islay and coastal whiskies generally being favoured by the group. The Superstition surprises though by having very little smoke on the nose and subdued peatiness on the palate. It also came across as "hot", although it is not off the norm at 43%. Claims are made for honey, salt, cinnamon, chocolate and coffee. Sweetness was certainly evident and perhaps the faintest hint of salt, but none of us could detect any of the other advertised elements.
Score: 5.7 which in our system merits a rating of  "Two Drams", meaning "Fair. Recommended with reservation. Don't seek out, but don't necessarily avoid.

Then we launched into our attempt to "approach the bard" through whiskies that somehow vaguely maybe perhaps in some way reflect something about his life. I know, I know. We were reaching. Forgive us. We started with the Auchentoshan 12 year old, thinking it might be the most accessible and also following a geographic and chronological progression of sorts. This was a brilliant rediscovery. The poor unglamorous Auchentoshan has been idling away in the back of the whisky cabinet, consistently overlooked. It scored 7.3, or a solid "Three Drams" = "Good. Recommended. Must try." We were all impressed by the fullness of the mouthfeel, the pleasant subtlety of the taste and the length of the finish. Very nicely done.



Buoyed by this positive experience we move on to the Highlanders, the Glenmorangie "The Original" (more on these peculiar new names in a bit) and the Tomatin 12 year old. The former is new to The Cabinet, although we had enjoyed the Quinta Ruban from the same distillery on several previous occasions. This one one we did not enjoy as much. It came across as weak and thin compared to the Auchentoshan. Not weak in the alcohol sense, but in the flavour sense. There was not much of a finish either. 5.3, or a touch below the Jura, but still in the "Two Drams" class. The Tomatin had been tasted twice before and had received mediocre reviews twice before. Would it be "third time is a charm"? No, it would not be. We are somewhat consistent. The Tomatin is fiery up front, but basically spineless behind. Score: 4.6, which is actually better than the 3.7 it received before.

Now a word on the trend in whisky names. "Superstition" and "The Original" passed our lips that night, and these are not isolated examples. Macallan is also letting age statement names slip quietly overboard and is replacing them with names arising from the brainstorms of marketing consultants, vaguely based on colors ("sienna" and "amber" and such, like pencil crayons). Ugh. Jura is, however, probably the worst right now. "Superstition", really? And "Prophecy"? Is their target market really 16 year old girls who wear black nail polish and read Anne Rice novels? But I will blame the Russians. And the Chinese. And the Indians. The boom in whisky sales to these countries, and many others, has led to a scramble in the warehouses with the master distillers having to find ways of using casks that do not necessarily fit in the traditional age statement rules. Change is a necessary part of life, but we can still hate it, can't we?

Regardless, it was a splendid night. Robbie would have been satisfied with the drink, the erudition and the laughter. He also would not have known what was meant by "teabagging". Nobody would explain it to me. I just looked it up now. I recommend you do not.

Slainte!