Life beyond Scotch

[LaBong]

The Telegraph - Calcutta (Kolkata) | The Personal Telegraph | Life beyond Scotch

Give an Irishman lager for a month and he’s a dead man. An Irishman is lined with copper and the beer corrodes it. But whiskey polishes the copper and is the saving of him.

— Mark Twain

One has to acknowledge that the Scots were responsible for ensuring that whisky became man’s best friend. The British took to it when they were denied their then favourite tipple — French brandy and Cognac — thanks to the Phylloxera virus that plagued France’s vineyards in the 1860s. And as they conquered the world, the British left behind the legacy of this wonderful amber potation wherever they went.

While a fair part of the world was taking to Scotch, immigrants — nay, gold diggers, desperados, runaways and believers in the New World — gradually inhabited America and Canada. Many of these people came from distilling nations — Ireland, France, Spain, Italy, Holland, Norway and Sweden. Having established themselves in North America and planted their grains, their surplus was soon put to good use — making whiskey. You’ll notice it’s spelt with an extra ‘e’. I can think of two reasons why — their penchant for changing everything British and the Irish influence.

ALL THINGS IRISH

The Irish, thought responsible for beginning the distilling of uisge beatha (meaning the Water of Life in Gaelic), were, for a long time, in constant turmoil. Crippling taxation by the British, the Great Famine (between 1845 and 1852), the thirst for independence from Britain (which resulted in trade embargoes), prohibition in the US and the ban on exporting alcohol during the wars — all contributed to the decline of the Irish whiskey industry. I believe it’s called the luck of the Irish!

Consolidation of the few active distilleries to form Irish Distillers allowed them to divide their limited resources smartly but leanly. They built themselves one of the most modern distilleries in the world. But the Irish didn’t have the funds to send out their entire portfolio. So the world only saw Jameson, with Bushmills and Black Bush showing face once in a while.

The vicious cycle continued — not many Irish brands on shelves, no serious enthusiasm, not enough sales and insufficient funds to market more brands. Their Renaissance began with the arrival of an independent group of entrepreneurs in 1987 — Cooley Distillers — who were determined to bring back the former glory of these once-prized whiskeys. They have since managed that nicely. The market has opened up and there’s a renewed interest in Irish whiskey, worldwide.

So how different are the traditionalists and the new upstarts? The Irish distillers prize the pure, clean (unadulterated by smoke), fine malt-taste of their whiskey, attributing it to triple distillation and malting barley in enclosed, coal-fired kilns — producing soft and mostly gentle Irish whiskeys. Cooley has, however, chosen a brand new path in producing bold, Irish whiskies, some even peated.

But I love them all — from the gentle Jameson to the brave Black Bush, the fiery Connemara and the mellow Tyrconnel. Close your eyes and sip. Taste history. Sip some more. Was that a banshee wailing?

FLAVOURS OF NORTH AMERICA

Across the Atlantic are the bold flavours of Bourbon and Tennessee whiskies, along with intriguing ones from Canada. Bourbon and Tennessee are made mostly from corn, with bits of barley and rye (which gives these whiskeys a bite). Sometimes, wheat replaces the rye for a softer finish. The distilled ‘white dog’ (unaged American whiskey) is then aged in new American white oak casks, which are charred from inside, giving Bourbon that deep colour and caramel-like sweetness, followed by an oaky, tannic edge.

Tennessee additionally filters the white dog through 10ft of activated maple charcoal and wool, drop by drop over 10 to 15 days, mellowing it further and removing any heavy corn oils and congeners before putting it to age — hence the distinctive barbecued-wood flavour on the palate. Jeff Arnett, master distiller at the Jack Daniel distillery described the maturation of Tennessee and Bourbon whiskeys as akin to brewing good tea.

Start with a good product and give it the right heat (to bring out the best flavours). Some of the best Bourbon and Tennessee you taste are between the ages of seven and 12.

You need to be brave and appreciative of the distiller’s art to understand and savour American whiskeys. Most Scotch is easy till your palate hits the smoky, peaty Islay malts. Bourbon and Tennessee too are powerful.

The dark chocolate and raisins of Jim Beam Black, the incredibly deep dried fruit of Knob Creek Small Batch, the aromatic and soft Maker’s Mark, the smooth yet edgy triple copper pot distilled Woodford Reserve, the warm and silky George Dickel Barrel Select (with a touch of dark chocolate mousse and Bounty) and the evocative, leather jacket-studs-and-spike and Harley Davidson phenomenon known as Jack Daniel’s — the list is tempting. Go on then. Dare.

Canadian whisky distillers creates individual whisky from individual grains — one each from corn (for sweetness), barley (for flavour), wheat (for a soft creaminess) and rye (for its bite) — distilled in different stills to varying strengths and aged in a variety of casks. The master blender orchestrates these into a blend that is the Canadian Whisky Symphony. It results in the gentle Canadian Club, the luscious Seagram’s Crown Royal and the defiantly mouth-watering Forty Creek Barrel Select and Three Grain from Kittling Ridge. How can you keep your hands off such passion?

A TASTE OF NIPPON

When blended Scotch whiskies were making their presence felt, the Japanese began to take an interest in this amber potion. Synthetic whiskies with diluted industrial alcohol, punched with colour and chemical essences, flooded the market. But two pioneers — Shinjiro Torii, the entrepreneur and Masataka Taketsuru, the distiller — rose to make Japanese whisky as close to Scotch as possible.

With support from Torii, Taketsuru went to Scotland, apprenticed at distilleries and came back to open the first distillery called Yamazaki, under the brand Suntory. In 1934, Taketsuru set up his own distillery in Yoichi, under the brand Nikka.

They failed to replicate Scotch. But instead, they discovered their own style, with an individuality and character that became the hallmark of great Japanese whisky. Suntory and Nikka are today’s giants who paved the way for smaller craft distillers to showcase their skills. You’ll find single malts and blends with exceptional finesse.

THE INDIAN STAMP

And just when you think that you’re all done, like a jack-in-the-box, out pop not just one, but a range of single malts from a distillery in Bangalore — Amrut Distillers.

I was doing the Bourbon Whiskey Trail in Kentucky and Tennessee when an American journalist asked me what I thought of the Amrut single malt. Not a peep in the Indian marketplace so imagine my consternation when I drew a complete blank! I came back, sent them a mail and found that most of it was only sold in the export market, though two were recently launched in Bangalore.

I finally got my hands on them. Made from barley grown in Punjab and distilled and matured in Bangalore. There’s the sweet and biscuity Amrut Indian single malt with a distinctly Bourbon nose and the warmly peaty Amrut Fusion single malt (a blend of Indian barley and peated Scottish barley) with a sweet toffee nose and some spice on the middle, with a honeyed finish. Why did the rest of the world have access to it before us? They wanted to face the wolves and get them to say “yay” against the best in the world.

So yes, there is life, and whisk(e)y beyond Scotch. But before I retire, some sage advice from W.C. Fields: Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of a snakebite. And furthermore, always carry a small snake.

 

[fatman17]

The Telegraph - Calcutta (Kolkata) | The Personal Telegraph | Life beyond Scotch

Give an Irishman lager for a month and he’s a dead man. An Irishman is lined with copper and the beer corrodes it. But whiskey polishes the copper and is the saving of him.

— Mark Twain

One has to acknowledge that the Scots were responsible for ensuring that whisky became man’s best friend. The British took to it when they were denied their then favourite tipple — French brandy and Cognac — thanks to the Phylloxera virus that plagued France’s vineyards in the 1860s. And as they conquered the world, the British left behind the legacy of this wonderful amber potation wherever they went.

While a fair part of the world was taking to Scotch, immigrants — nay, gold diggers, desperados, runaways and believers in the New World — gradually inhabited America and Canada. Many of these people came from distilling nations — Ireland, France, Spain, Italy, Holland, Norway and Sweden. Having established themselves in North America and planted their grains, their surplus was soon put to good use — making whiskey. You’ll notice it’s spelt with an extra ‘e’. I can think of two reasons why — their penchant for changing everything British and the Irish influence.

ALL THINGS IRISH

The Irish, thought responsible for beginning the distilling of uisge beatha (meaning the Water of Life in Gaelic), were, for a long time, in constant turmoil. Crippling taxation by the British, the Great Famine (between 1845 and 1852), the thirst for independence from Britain (which resulted in trade embargoes), prohibition in the US and the ban on exporting alcohol during the wars — all contributed to the decline of the Irish whiskey industry. I believe it’s called the luck of the Irish!

Consolidation of the few active distilleries to form Irish Distillers allowed them to divide their limited resources smartly but leanly. They built themselves one of the most modern distilleries in the world. But the Irish didn’t have the funds to send out their entire portfolio. So the world only saw Jameson, with Bushmills and Black Bush showing face once in a while.

The vicious cycle continued — not many Irish brands on shelves, no serious enthusiasm, not enough sales and insufficient funds to market more brands. Their Renaissance began with the arrival of an independent group of entrepreneurs in 1987 — Cooley Distillers — who were determined to bring back the former glory of these once-prized whiskeys. They have since managed that nicely. The market has opened up and there’s a renewed interest in Irish whiskey, worldwide.

So how different are the traditionalists and the new upstarts? The Irish distillers prize the pure, clean (unadulterated by smoke), fine malt-taste of their whiskey, attributing it to triple distillation and malting barley in enclosed, coal-fired kilns — producing soft and mostly gentle Irish whiskeys. Cooley has, however, chosen a brand new path in producing bold, Irish whiskies, some even peated.

But I love them all — from the gentle Jameson to the brave Black Bush, the fiery Connemara and the mellow Tyrconnel. Close your eyes and sip. Taste history. Sip some more. Was that a banshee wailing?

FLAVOURS OF NORTH AMERICA

Across the Atlantic are the bold flavours of Bourbon and Tennessee whiskies, along with intriguing ones from Canada. Bourbon and Tennessee are made mostly from corn, with bits of barley and rye (which gives these whiskeys a bite). Sometimes, wheat replaces the rye for a softer finish. The distilled ‘white dog’ (unaged American whiskey) is then aged in new American white oak casks, which are charred from inside, giving Bourbon that deep colour and caramel-like sweetness, followed by an oaky, tannic edge.

Tennessee additionally filters the white dog through 10ft of activated maple charcoal and wool, drop by drop over 10 to 15 days, mellowing it further and removing any heavy corn oils and congeners before putting it to age — hence the distinctive barbecued-wood flavour on the palate. Jeff Arnett, master distiller at the Jack Daniel distillery described the maturation of Tennessee and Bourbon whiskeys as akin to brewing good tea.

Start with a good product and give it the right heat (to bring out the best flavours). Some of the best Bourbon and Tennessee you taste are between the ages of seven and 12.

You need to be brave and appreciative of the distiller’s art to understand and savour American whiskeys. Most Scotch is easy till your palate hits the smoky, peaty Islay malts. Bourbon and Tennessee too are powerful.

The dark chocolate and raisins of Jim Beam Black, the incredibly deep dried fruit of Knob Creek Small Batch, the aromatic and soft Maker’s Mark, the smooth yet edgy triple copper pot distilled Woodford Reserve, the warm and silky George Dickel Barrel Select (with a touch of dark chocolate mousse and Bounty) and the evocative, leather jacket-studs-and-spike and Harley Davidson phenomenon known as Jack Daniel’s — the list is tempting. Go on then. Dare.

Canadian whisky distillers creates individual whisky from individual grains — one each from corn (for sweetness), barley (for flavour), wheat (for a soft creaminess) and rye (for its bite) — distilled in different stills to varying strengths and aged in a variety of casks. The master blender orchestrates these into a blend that is the Canadian Whisky Symphony. It results in the gentle Canadian Club, the luscious Seagram’s Crown Royal and the defiantly mouth-watering Forty Creek Barrel Select and Three Grain from Kittling Ridge. How can you keep your hands off such passion?

A TASTE OF NIPPON

When blended Scotch whiskies were making their presence felt, the Japanese began to take an interest in this amber potion. Synthetic whiskies with diluted industrial alcohol, punched with colour and chemical essences, flooded the market. But two pioneers — Shinjiro Torii, the entrepreneur and Masataka Taketsuru, the distiller — rose to make Japanese whisky as close to Scotch as possible.

With support from Torii, Taketsuru went to Scotland, apprenticed at distilleries and came back to open the first distillery called Yamazaki, under the brand Suntory. In 1934, Taketsuru set up his own distillery in Yoichi, under the brand Nikka.

They failed to replicate Scotch. But instead, they discovered their own style, with an individuality and character that became the hallmark of great Japanese whisky. Suntory and Nikka are today’s giants who paved the way for smaller craft distillers to showcase their skills. You’ll find single malts and blends with exceptional finesse.

THE INDIAN STAMP

And just when you think that you’re all done, like a jack-in-the-box, out pop not just one, but a range of single malts from a distillery in Bangalore — Amrut Distillers.

I was doing the Bourbon Whiskey Trail in Kentucky and Tennessee when an American journalist asked me what I thought of the Amrut single malt. Not a peep in the Indian marketplace so imagine my consternation when I drew a complete blank! I came back, sent them a mail and found that most of it was only sold in the export market, though two were recently launched in Bangalore.

I finally got my hands on them. Made from barley grown in Punjab and distilled and matured in Bangalore. There’s the sweet and biscuity Amrut Indian single malt with a distinctly Bourbon nose and the warmly peaty Amrut Fusion single malt (a blend of Indian barley and peated Scottish barley) with a sweet toffee nose and some spice on the middle, with a honeyed finish. Why did the rest of the world have access to it before us? They wanted to face the wolves and get them to say “yay” against the best in the world.

So yes, there is life, and whisk(e)y beyond Scotch. But before I retire, some sage advice from W.C. Fields: Always carry a flagon of whiskey in case of a snakebite. And furthermore, always carry a small snake.

try murree brewery 18 yr old single-malt !!!