xtcian

Sláinte mhath!

6/4/07

What was that, you say?
How did my scotch tasting go?
Why, very well, thanks for asking!
This was the second organized tasting I've had - the first one was over New Year's, when we tried something from five different regions of Scotland, and because I had strep throat and conjunctivitis, I could only watch everyone else enjoy some yummy rarities. This one, however, I partook, and it was completely Scot-tastic, absolutely Gaelicious.

I called it "The Very Young and the Very Old," and thus we tested four different whiskies: a 6-year-old Ardbeg vs. a 27-year-old, and a Macallan 7 vs. a Macallan from 1940. Originally, I was planning to have about 10-12 tasters, but by the time everyone gathered around the table, there were 22. How was each liquid experience? Let me try to elucidate...

1. Ardbeg "Very Young" 6-year-old - In an aging process where 10-year-olds are considered immature, Ardbeg has thwarted tradition and has released a yearly sampling of their current batch en route to ten years old. The first, the "Very Young," came out in 2004 and is impossible to find in the States, so I contacted a buddy who lives near Islay, Scotland in order to get this one.

Islay scotches are all the rage right now - Laphroaig, Bruichladdich, Lagavulin, and especially Ardbeg. True Ardbegs are known to have taste descriptions ranging from "stunningly peaty" to "this tastes like burnt rope hanging off the edge of an abandoned whaler." Needless to say, as a sensualist, I fucking love this distillery.

The second we started pouring this one, the whole farmhouse started smelling like peat - eyebrows raised one by one as we went down the table. I made everyone add a drop or two of water to their vials, as any scotch over 50% alcohol (this was 58%) will burn your tastebuds and ruin the rest of the tasting. Personally, I hate "cask strength" stuff, because I hate adding water, but then again, I also liked Tears For Fears and Level 42.

Verdict? Even with water, it was powerfully intense, peaty, unbridled, pissed-off, an angry drunk who suddenly turns interesting. This is "screaming outside at a fire" stuff.

2. Ardbeg 1976, 27 years old (Connoisseur's Choice) - This is one of Jim Murray's favorite whiskies of all time, getting a 94. I have oddly similar tastes to Mr. Murray, and this was no exception. While we went around the table and tried to conjure up a memory from 1976 (at 9, I remembered the bicentennial fireworks and how they destroyed the golf course in Cedar Rapids) this one settled in your mouth and went through several incarnations before landing on a long, long finish.

Yes, the unmistakable Islay saltiness and peat bog was there, but it had more to say, better endings to longer stories. It's a scotch for raising your feet above your heart, nights when you meant to be asleep by 11 but find yourself still talking at 2am.

3. Macallan 7 - You can only get this in Italy, where the Italians have a long-standing love affair with Macallans, the more syrupy the better. Unlike most other scotches which are aged in ex-bourbon casks made of oak, Macallan is mainly known for its whiskies aged in old sherry casks - hence the dark, brown-sugar sensation of the Macallan 18.

The Italians love a "sherry bomb," the young Macallans that still have the alcohol but have leeched all the sherry influence they can. This 7 lived up to the Italophile fantasy, just the perfect combination. It doesn't have the caramelized sugar snap of the 18, but I think I might like it better. Only Sean agreed with me - everyone else thought it was a little shallow, but following an Ardbeg with a Macallan is like having motor oil with a Mrs. Butterworth chaser.

4. Macallan-Glenlivet 1940, bottled 1977 - It's not often you can bring out a bottle of liquid and have a whole room alight with genuine "oohs", but that's what happens when you have the opportunity to taste something made during the Second World War. When this scotch was distilled, bombs were dropping on London, and the fate of the 20th century was largely unknown. Almost none of you reading this was alive; my mom was eight, my dad was still a newborn. Thank god for a buddy in Europe, who wanted to pare down his collection, and gave me this priceless bottle for almost nothing.

Knowing history, how can you be objective about a whisky? Really, the question is... why should you be? Beethoven's 3rd Symphony is unquestionably more heartbreaking if you knew what he was going through. Most things are inextricable from their context, and certainly knowing what mankind had been through while this whisky waited for us is an experience totally beyond the actual alcohol and taste.

That said, it was a fascinating time machine to the predilections of our great-grandparents. They liked their whisky to be sweet, to have almost no smokiness or peat, thus the 1940 Macallan tasted like a dessert wine, a floral port, almost thick with treacle. Odd how almost everything in America has gotten sweeter with the creeping influence of corn syrup, yet whiskies have inched the other direction. Honestly, this is a scotch I would bring out when your guests are uncomfortable and you want them to relax. I wouldn't tell them it's from 1940, though. That might really freak them out.

After our tasting, everyone got a vial of the scotch they liked the most. I purchased a box of scientific glassware from the fine folks at Indigo Instruments, who are usually supplying high schools with test tubes and pipettes. They generally have to report a guy buying 40 volumetric flasks to Homeland Security, but when I told them what I was doing, they seemed genuinely pleased. I suppose there's only so many times you can mix vinegar and baking soda and still get a bang.

Posted by Ian Williams at June 4, 2007 11:06 PM