Pink faced men in anoraks
(Yes they are all men)
Wait in the rain
It's August in Scotland
Time again for the Whisky Fringe..
We are queueing up in the rain for The Whisky Fringe. I can tell I am an ignorant fool, the boys in front of me have lists, have done their home work, know exactly where they are going, what drams and in what order. A grumpy fella behind, tweeds, umbrella, soft southern shoes...maybe he's been reluctantly sent north by some faceless corporate behemoth to check out the competition..
I listen in to the 'boys' in front, pick up a tip for Daft Mill...that's somewhere to start..
I am not a died in the wool whisky affecionado, I fortuitously picked up my ticket at the last minute from some surly men at the bus stop (perhaps, not surly - just Scottish in the rain)..Callum, a pink faced man in a check shirt. Check shirts, pink faces, anoraks...there's a few of them about..
The Whisky Fringe, organised by Royal Mile Whiskies, is a fine occasion every year to sample from a selection of literally hundreds of very fine whiskies, some of which I could never afford a dram of never mind a bottle. This year, as in previous years, it is held in the Mansfield Traquair, a gorgeous deconcecrated church, an ex-church, decorated by Phoebe Traquair with fabulous twentieth cenury murals (a rarety in calvinist Scotland). At least for today spirit has replaced, or is added to, Holy Spirit.
It's a dreich summer's day in Edinburgh. Sampling whisky is a fine activity for dreich summer's day. They go together like cheese and oatcakes.
The real connoisseurs ( or perhaps alcoholics), do all three days at £35 a pop. The tickets sell out faster than Glastonbury. I stumbled upon it (again) rather haphazardly, this year buying a bottle of Compass Box Assyla ( a previous Whisky Fringe favourite) for some Italian friends in the High Street shop, I left my address, in the vague hope of a return, and that's how Callum found me with his spare ticket. We agreed to meet outside the church, like a clandestine wedding.
The doors open and we file in, anoraks and brollies left at the door. We get a nosing glass and a pamphlet and guide, 31 producer stalls, let's say 200 whiskies, and 4 hours to try them..
Again, you can tell the pro's, they have a special lanyard that holds their nosing glass, presumably to allow them to gesticulate more wildly, or perhaps take notes. Prices seem to range from £40 -£300, I decide to ignore prices, take a naive approach, see where my Nose / the Muse/ the Spirit takes me..but, I'll start with the Daft Mill, because the bloke outside said it was good.
Daft Mill (2006 Summer release)
A soft dram that reminds me of the rain
Sharp and spicey nose, smooth and warm
A rainy day on Loch Duich..
Then something twenty year old from Japan's highest distillery (from Compass Box).
Mars Shinanotanpopo
Smells different, I couldn't tell you how
Sherry cask, of mountain green
Steam off tropical hills
Quiet, austere, measured.
Japan becomes more Scottish with the nosing
..and the drinking.
If whisky brings the peace of it's maturation
This is the peace (or imagined peace)
Of a long hot, humid summer.
I find a shelf to lean on. There's lot's of whiskies to taste, but I want to take my time and try to savour a few (rather than swill down a lot). My other rule is not to look at the prices.. I might find out later if they are expensive or not.
Check shirt,who was Anorak in front of me in the queue outside, is taking notes on the same shelf. He points me to the Tomatin Moscatel.
Tomatin Muskatel
The Tomatin representative, shouts tasting notes through the din as he pours, he's been doing it for three days...in one ear and out the other. 'Just the wrong side of the road to be a Speyside.' - He shouts. I passed this distillery recently, flying, too fast, down the A9, on my way back from Skye and Loch Duich. Tomatin is a Highland Malt then, according to the random allocation of boundries..
It's fifteen years old, matured for five years in a Muskatel barrel. It tastes of cheese and wet blankets, spice and liquorice (my tasting notes are often a bit weird).
The Theory of Place
There are probably lots of theories and speculation as to what makes a good whisky, the barley, the malting process, the shape of the still, the barrel or barrels, the maturation. Perhaps part of it is the place and duration of maturation. So an Islay whisky, rested and matured in a quiet, island warehouse near the sea might take on some of the characteristics of it's environment, sea salt and sea weed perhaps, more esoterically, the quiet stillness of such a remote location and the Tomatin, next to the busy A9, might be a bit more busy and restless.
Lagavulin 2001 Distillers Edition
Check shirt and I seem to have synchronised our tastings and we meet again at the one wee shelf where it is possible to put down your glass and write some notes..
I imagine this dram to have been lovingly rested on an island, in a dry sherry cask, I am told..A whiff of the sea, liquorice and spice and of course a peaty fire..
'You're not on the Islay's already?' Clearly the Big Flavours of Islay should be left until the end of the day..I elaborate my 'Theory of Place' -check shirt tells me Lagavulin is matured in Fife..so bang goes that theory.
Kilchoman
'Islay's single farm, single Malt, from barley to bottle.' It's matured on the island too..
They have four releases on offer, I forgot to note down which one I tried, but it is dry and nutty and I note 'more pure in it's peatyness' ..which may well be my imagination at work.
Glen Scotia - A visit to the basement
Time for a break (sort of) and a wee bit of pallet cleansing after those two Islays (I suppose). Anyway, Glen Scotia an old, but newly revived, Campbeltown distillery is offering a presentation by the distillery manager Ian McAlister, in the basement.
Campbeltown, is the newest, of the five defined whisky regions (the others being Highland, Island, Speyside, Islay and Lowland) and the town used to be the Victorian Whisky capital of the world with about a fifth of all the distilleries in Scotland. Today there are just three, Springbank, Glengyle and Glen Scotia, with appropriate investment and marketing going in to reinvigorate Campbeltown as a Whisky region.
Ian takes us through a tasting of three Glen Scotia's - An eighteen year old, The Victoriana and a twenty nine year old single cask.
The eighteen year old has a long, sweet and spicey nose, tastes of liquorice, apricots and sea salt. 'Good nose prickle', I am told..
The Victoriana is finished in heavily charred oak casks, giving it colour and sweetness. 'Caramellicious' is the word I wrote down, though perhaps a bit too sweet..nice, I would imagine, after Christmas dinner.
The twenty nine year old cask tastes of polish and leather, wild place and wild winter weather. Ian hints at some other deeper taste, a peatyness, which becomes obvious as soon as he says it, peat and cigars, perhaps coming from the barrel, used for a previous whisky's maturation..origins uncertain.
We have a nice chat about, what makes a good whisky and where does the flavour come from.
Someone argues that a really good whisky comes from a first fill bourbon cask (somewhat different from the whiskies we are tasting). Ian argues that it is his job to balance all the different flavours, you can fill ten barrels with the same whisky on the same day and end up with one very good one and one that is indifferent, why? well there is still much to be discovered all you can do is take the best ingredients and then manage and process them to the best of your ability.
It's argued that Islay and Campbeltown whiskies are exposed to Atlantic gales and Speyside whiskies aren't...that there is an oiliness and saltyiness associated with the former. Perhaps the saltiness comes in with the barley (but then, it is easier to get good quality barley from the east coast..) and Bowmore (like Lagavuillin) is stored and matured in the central belt..
So perhaps we could say the fruitiness comes from port and sherry casks, the caramels and darker colouring from the charring of the cask, wood and nuts (my 'polish and leather') from the cask and the time spent in it. The peatiness is a echo of the drying of the wet west coast grain over peat fires and the wild, saltiness an echo and a flavour of the wild west coast and the perhaps areflection the preferences and character of the people that live there.
My notes get esoteric, maudline (and only partly legible) after that and it is not even half time. I particularly enjoy A Single Cask Glen Moray from the Adelphi Distillery Company (another recommendation from Check Shirt, he's been invaluable, the whisky Sensei appearing when you need him in a simple guise of anorak and check shirt).
At the end, fourteen drams and one steak pie over the four hours. That's probably my 20 units of alcohol for the week. The ticket includes a £10 voucher to buy a bottle from Royal Mile Whiskies and an additional £10 off offer from Glen Scotia for one of their whiskies..
I take home a bottle of single cask Glen Moray (1995) from Adelphi and the eighteen year old from Glen Scotia, to sit in the cupboard and be savoured over the year..
I'll let you know how I get on..
