Owning a whiskey website requires a certain amount of focus. Even if my liver is what we call “totalflex” around here, the ethanol world is very vast, and liver and financial resources are limited. I often find myself forced to choose battle fronts, and, naturally, my favorite combat zone is whiskey. But that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy other fields. I’m passionate about cocktails, I’ve always liked beer, and I have an ignorant fascination with rum and cachaça. In the field of wines, I assume I’m on the fortified team. Especially port.
And sometimes, I don’t even have to choose. Because there are hundreds of whiskies that are finished in port casks. And that for me is almost an alcoholic megazord. Just seeing a whiskey that passed through such casks makes me feel irremediably compelled to try it. Imagine then, when I discovered a bourbon that goes through the same process – Angel’s Envy Bourbon.
The biggest difference between Angel’s Envy Bourbon – as well as its brother, Angel’s Envy Finished Rye, already reviewed here – is precisely its somewhat unusual maturation. The whiskey, after spending around five years in virgin and toasted American oak barrels, is finished for a period of three to six months in port wine barrels. This gives the whiskey a certain sweet and fruity wine aroma, reminiscent of raisins.
The idea of finishing a whiskey in a barrel previously used for another drink is not new. It has long been used in Scotland – the pioneers were Glenmorangie, The Balvenie and Glen Moray. However, in the United States, the technique is still little used and only gained momentum when Woodford Reserve and its former master distiller, Lincoln Henderson, decided to try it in special limited versions of the distillery. Lincoln Henderson, who later, a few years before he passed away, founded Angel’s Envy.
Lincoln Henderson
Angel’s Envy Bourbon’s Mashbill is made up of 72% corn, 18% rye and 10% malted barley. It’s a recipe very close to that of another bourbon whiskey famous for unusual finishes, Woodford Reserve. It is also a mashbill with a considerable amount of rye, which brings balance to the sweetness provided by the corn.
The launch of Angel’ Envy Bourbon took place in 2011. However, until 2015, Angel’s Envy did not have its own distillery. Their whiskey was produced by Midwest Grain Products of Indiana (MGP) under request from Angel’s Envy, which curated the barrels and designed the product profile. MGP – once the huge Seagram’s distillery – also produces or has produced custom whiskey for several other brands, such as George Dickel, High West, Redemption and Smooth Ambler. Currently, however, Angel’s Envy is produced in their own distillery in Kentucky.
Angel’s Envy arrives in Brazil through the hands of its owner – Bacardi. The price is close to that asked for other sophisticated bourbons, a category that has grown a lot in our market recently. Its biggest difference is the port finish – although it is difficult to ignore the beautiful bottle. It is a bourbon that will please everyone: lovers of fortified wines, bourbons and single malts. In the case of Angel’s Envy, there’s no need to choose fronts.
ANGEL’S ENVY BOURBON
Type: Bourbon
Brand: Angel’s Envy
Region: N/A
ABV: 43.3%
Profile
Aroma: Caramel. Brown sugar, honey, dried fruits.
Flavor: Caramel, honey, vanilla, creme brulee. Long and progressively more fruity finish, with raisins.
“Doors to automatic and cross-check“. I buckle my seat belt, cross my arms and take a deep breath. I’ve never been afraid of flying. In fact, on the contrary. I love airports. The only thing that remotely bothers me is having to sit on the plane for too long. There isn’t much to do, and, as they say here in Brazil, ahead with no thought is the devil’s workshop. I watch the flight attendant point out the emergency exits. Suddenly, my mind reduces the sound volume of the surroundings, and an intrusive thought appears. What if I run out and open the emergency door as soon as the plane takes off?
You should let the intrusive thought win, for once, a friend of mine would say. I stifle the dialogue between reason and entropy in my brain. Not this time, this time everyone would die. I’m going to let it win when I it is somewhat like showing my butt in the middle of a restaurant or the church. Then, the worst that will happen is to become a felon. The flight attendant approaches me. Small moment of panic. I ask myself if he is a telepath and heard my thoughts. Would you like juice or water – she asks. I breathe a sigh of relief.
When the Boeing 737-900 starts running down the runway, I get excited, and the intrusive thoughts dissipate. After a few days in Tennessee, learning everything about Jack Daniel’s, we’re going to Kentucky to see one of the bourbon distilleries that I most admire in person. The Woodford Reserve. Known in Brazil for Distiller’s Select, Woodford is much more than that. It is an innovative distillery, which has often defied tradition and created new whiskeys – such as those from the Master’s Collection line, with very unusual maturations and techniques.
Masters Collection
Our tour was guided by Elizabeth McCall – the master distiller at Woodford Reserve, in person. For a whisky geek like me, being able to talk to a person of such importance in the industry is always an honor. Our tour started at the visitor center – which has a well-stocked souvenir shop. Bottles, not so much. There is, of course, the entire Woodford permanent portfolio in the United States. But, no exclusive special editions, except for one – the Toasted Oak. This is because there’s a huge expeculative market over these expressions.
Elizabeth led us to the washbacks – where an exclusive Woodford yeast ferments the wort, which is made up of 72% corn, 18% rye and 10% malted barley. Fermentation takes 5 to 7 days. I notice that the washbacks are made of wood, and ask Elizabeth about the choice. The answer is surprising. “These are made of wood, but there is another portion of stainless steel. In our laboratory, we did not find significant differences between the fermented musts of the two. The wooden one is more traditional, and requires more work to clean.”
Washbacks
From there, we went to the laboratory where the yeast is grown. The strain has an Elon-Muskian name: “WR78B”, and has been used by Woodford since its founding. This is an important part. Scotch tend not to care much about yeast. In the bourbon industry, it’s the opposite. According to McCall, this yeast is responsible for Woodford’s fruity profile. In the lab, there is also equipment that assists in new-make standardization. And speaking of them, the next step was a visit to the pot stills.
If you, whiskey geek, paid close attention to the last words of the paragraph above, you might have thought I made a mistake. But not. Woodford Reserve is one of the only bourbon whiskey distilleries that uses pot stills in its distillation process. Their Woodford Master’s Select is a combination of the spirit from these stills with another, produced in a column. But there are expressions that come exclusively from them – notably, the expressions from the Masters Collection.
Alambiques
Woodford employs triple distillation. Wash stills produce low-wines with approximately 40% alcohol content. In intermediate distillation, high-wines come out at 60%. At this stage, the feints are removed, but not the foreshots. The spirit then goes to the second spirit still, which increases the strength to 78%. Finally, both foreshots and feints – once again – are removed. The spirit is then slowly dilluted, so that it reaches the entry-level strength for the barrels. 55% – 7.5% below the maximum allowed by law.
Finally, we were taken to a maturation warehouse. McCall explained that most Woodford expressions mature for five to seven years – but the idea is that the whiskey is unbarrelled and blended when deemed appropriate, due to its sensory profile, not time. Here, Woodford also has a difference. It does not rotate barrels, like some distilleries. But it controls the temperature of the warehouse. Especially during the winter, they raise the temperature and let it drop, encouraging the expansion and contraction of the wood in the barrels, and increasing extraction.
Warehouse
And there was one last surprise. Elizabeth chose a barrel, drilled it – with a small drill – and served a shot to the participants. A Woodford with 12 years of maturation, and 67.5%. The alcohol content, in addition to being insane, brings curious information. The barrels are 55% filled, but the water evaporates faster than the alcohol, due to the dry climate. Then, the alcohol concentrates. In twelve years, 12.5% alcohol. It is a lot.
I catch myself thinking about what would happen if I stole the drill and went around drilling holes in barrels and drinking the whiskey. You should let the intrusive thought win, at least once, that friend of mine would remind me. No, not this time either. I’m just going to savor the moment here, and leave the intrusive thought for the plane back.
This is the first article on the press trip to Brown-Forman distilleries in the United States. This time, Jack Daniel’s. Or rather, something very specific, almost a detail, within the enormous set that is the mythical Jack Daniels.
It’s just that I’m not exactly me, in distilleries. It’s like that AppleTV series, Severance. When I go through the gates of a distillery, I forget who I am, and my innie becomes a curious and unpleasant being, who pokes the equipment, sticks his face in the washback and takes photos next to the stills.
During the visit, my partners – much more normal than me – were intrigued by the story of the number seven. No one knows for sure why Jasper chose that number. Others expressed curiosity about the bottle’s square shape, which was something revolutionary at the time. I was not. This time, the trigger was the Charcoal Mellowing, or Lincoln County Process. But my unhealthy curiosity combined with the patience of Jack’s team bore fruit. Which is the article below, which I bring to you, dear readers.
WHAT IS THE LINCOLN COUNTY PROCESS
Lincoln County Process, also called Charcoal Mellowing, is the filtering of the new-make spirit that will later become Tennesse Whiskey through columns of activated maple charcoal. The process is generally carried out before the whiskey is matured, although Jack Daniels Gentleman Jack, for example, undergoes a second filtering after maturation.
Like any filtration process, charcoal mellowing is a subtractive process. The charcoal works as a natural filter, retaining certain components of the distillate – more specifically, the larger molecules – and altering its sensory profile. The texture of the whiskey becomes more delicate, and the flavor less “grainy” – that taste of fresh cereal.
According to Jack Daniel’s itself, “Once distilled to “140 proof” (that’s 70% ABV), we send our clear, unaged whiskey on a meticulous journey. Drop by drop, it crawls through our artisan charcoal in a rhythm dictated by gravity and nothing else. The journey takes 3 to 5 days to complete and, once completed, the whiskey is transformed.
Before proceeding, I must make a small digression about the name. One wold presume the distillery that employs it is located in Lincoln County. It turns out that neither Jack Daniel’s nor George Dickel – which also uses the process – are currently located there. However, it was in Lincoln County that Jack was founded, back in 1860. County boundaries were revised at the end of the 19th century, so that – amazingly – everyone in any county could reach a courthouse in less than a day horseback riding. Yes, horseback riding. And Jack Daniel’s was then transferred to the county without leaving the place.
Jack Daniel’s Stills are here
The Lincoln County Process seem simple, but is not. It’s much more than simply pouring distillate onto the charcoal on the barbecue. It begins by cutting maple trees into slats and drying them outdoors. This process takes months – much longer than it would take if an oven was used. Air drying allows the charcoal to burn at higher temperatures. Once dry, the slats are stacked in a shape similar to that of a gigantic “São João” bonfire – you, brazilians, got the reference – and set on fire.
The fire burns for approximately four hours, until it is put it out using water hoses. There is an interesting curiosity here. Jack Daniel’s is the only distillery in the world that has a fire station on its premises. The team is made up of Jack employees. The fire takes, on average, an hour to extinguish. The result is clean coal, which is subsequently ground to produce what they call “chips”.
In Jack’s words “Three days a week, three times a day, we stack pallets of hard sugar maple five feet high and douse them in raw unaged whiskey before setting the wood ablaze. It might seem like a waste of perfectly good whiskey, but we don’t see anything as a waste when it comes to making Jack Daniel’s. The inferno peaks at over 2,000 degrees Fahrenheit before burning down into smoldering embers. These pellets are then raked over until finally cool and ready to slowly mellow our Tennessee Whiskey.”
The men responsible burning maple for over 20 years
These small pieces – the aforementioned pellets – are arranged in large tanks, the “mellowing vats”. There is a network of pipes, arranged over these tanks, with small holes. The new-make travels through these pipes, and drips onto the coals. Here, there is an important detail: the “mellowing vat” has to be saturated with spirit all the time, otherwise, it can find an easier path between the chips, and reduce filtration efficiency.
Afterwards, the spirit is transferred to barrels, where it matures until it is considered suitable to become the most famous Tennessee Whiskey in the world – Jack Daniel’s. All Jack whiskeys go through this process at least once. Even the Rye Whiskey. Some, like Jack Daniel’s Gentleman Jack and the “gold” version, typical of Duty Frees, undergo a second filtration in maple charcoal, after maturing, and before being dilluted for bottling.
BOURBON OR TENNENSSEE WHISKEY
Because of this subtractive process, Jack Daniel’s claims that its whiskey is more than just bourbon. That, of course, and other details, such as the yeast and the distillation process. Chris Fletcher, Jack’s Master Distiller, even declares “we have everything it takes to be bourbon. And even more.” Therefore, perhaps, the ideal is not to classify it. Jack can be bourbon, and it is Tennessee whiskey. But most of all, Jack is Jack.
I try to access the control panel of The Bottled Dog, but I cannot manage to remember the password. I try a random one – which does not work. I try another, also without success. On the third attempt, the browser takes longer to give a negative answer, and my heart fills with hope. We need to confirm you are human – select all the pictures that have stairs. I panic. I don’t know if it’s an attention thing or just pure tension. But the challenge already makes me uneasy. Oh but wait. That thing in the photo is a ship. Ships have stairs, right?
Same thing with those traffic lights with timers. I prefer ignorance over knowledge. Knowing how much time I have to cross the street makes me speed up, not be more cautious. That’s why humans can’t know exactly when they will die – they would be divided between those who speed up and those who remain inert. Thinking about it, smart traffic lights are a great existentialist parable.
18 seconds to live
And then there’s the worst of all, the bank token. Forty-five seconds to write four digits is not enough. Not under the blatant threat of having my account access blocked. Without pressure, I can do fifty characters a minute. Without even looking at the keyboard. With this passive violence, I can’t even manage four in two hours.
Things need time to happen properly. When they happen, they happen. The launch of The Macallan Night on Earth in Brazil is proof of that. The whisky was developed to celebrate the New Year, but it arrived here in mid-April. After that, it still took me over a month to write a piece about it. But, though untimely, here it is.
The Macallan Night on Earth is a single malt that makes a strange promise. “A spectacular unboxing.” The illustrations on the boxes – yes, plural, I’ll explain – were done by the Chinese artist Nini Sum. This raises the hypothesis that the whisky was created with a focus on the Chinese New Year, which happened on February 10. What makes me not so late.
As for the packaging, I can’t help but draw a parallel with matryoshkas. One doll inside another. The boxes are like that. Both made of cardboard. You open one horizontally, only to find another, blue, that looks like a Dubai building with dubious architecture, inside. This one opens vertically, finally revealing the beautiful and muscular bottle of The Macallan Night on Earth. It was fun the first two or three times. Then, I got lazy, set the box aside, and left the bottle alone on the shelf.
The Macallan Night on Earth uses American oak sherry casks, European oak sherry casks, and American oak bourbon casks, similar to the now-defunct Triple Cask line. It’s a no-age-statement whisky, like its sibling, Classic Cut, which I have reviewed before. Sensory-wise, it brings notes of fruits and a certain burnt caramel, or toffee, which is quite pleasant, distinguishing it from the current The Macallan offerings available in Brazil. It’s a malt that always invites the next sip.
Good things come to those who wait
Actually, the whisky’s full name is The Macallan Night On Earth – The Journey. It’s the second expression in a series of “Nights on Earth,” conceived to celebrate the New Year. Its sibling is The Macallan Night on Earth – In Scotland. The expressions have slightly distinct sensory profiles, but all prioritize drinkability.
A bottle of The Macallan Night On Earth – The Journey costs around R$ 1,200 (one thousand two hundred reais) in Brazil. Recommending it, therefore, is a relative exercise. If you’re looking for a luxury single malt with great drinkability and packaging that can entertain you for hours, it’s perfect. However, if you want a whisky with a more complex sensory profile and greater intensity, you might want to focus on another The Macallan expression available here: the Classic Cut.
Or, perhaps, you should buy a bottle and wait until next year. This way, you won’t be late like me but perfectly in sync with the celebrations of the coming year. As the cliché goes, the latecomers will also be exalted.
Portugal and Japan have a much deeper connection than you might think. The Portuguese were the first western culture to have contact and trade with the Japanese. And like any contact, there were curious influences on both sides. The Portuguese inherited some words from the Japanese vocabulary, such as “catana” and “biombo”.
The Japanese started to use a series of words of Portuguese origin, adapted to the sound of their language. For example, pan, koppu, tabako and arkoru – that their etymological deduction power must have already indicated that they are respectively bread, glass, tobacco and alcohol. In fact, a combination of words that showed that there was also a certain affinity between cultures when it came to setting priorities and having fun.
In fact, Japanese culture has a beautiful characteristic. To incorporate elements from other cultures, and transmute them into something essentially Japanese. Tempura – yes, frying – is an example. The Japanese did not know the technique until the arrival of the Portuguese. And whisky, too. Whisky in Japan is approximately a century old. The technique was learned from the Scots, but the Japanese liquid already has an identity of its own. So much so that it became a huge fever in the world.
A fever without laws. So far. Because in February 2021 the Japan Spirits & Liqueur Makers Association (JSLMA) announced new identification standards for Japanese Whisky. A measure that, let’s face it, was needed for a long time. Before we get into the legal details, however, I think a basic recap on the Japanese whisky scene is important.
Until today, there were almost no laws in Japan regarding the production and marketing of whisky. And, because of this, it was allowed – or rather, it was not illegal – for a whisky distilled and matured in another country and bottled in Japan to be labeled as Japanese whisky. In other words, a certain producer could buy 100 percent of Scotch whisky, ship it to Japan, bottle it there and call it Japanese whisky.
California Roll – more Japanese than a lot of Japanese whisky
This practice may seem absurd, but historically it made sense. First because, in the past, Japanese whisky was not the fever it is today. The country had few distilleries at the dawn of its production. And, importing the product in bulk, ready, and mixing it with Japanese whisky made in Japan (no, that’s not a pleonasm) helped to lower costs and increase sensory richness.
It so happens that, over time, the scenario has changed. Japanese whisky has become unbelievably coveted. As a result, the stock of truly mature Japanese whiskies nearly ran out. And what remained were sold at astronomical prices. Furthermore, the lack of market regulation – previously beneficial as it allows for sensory wealth – has given way to opportunism. Certain companies started to take advantage of this historical permissiveness to deceive the consumer. Buy cheap whiskies and bottle them in Japan, labeling them as Japanese whisky.
With the rise to fame of Japanese whisky, the old rules became obsolete. or rather, they became nothing, because there were no rules in this eastern western that was Japanese whisky. So far. Because, starting from the suggestive date of April 1, 2021, the Japan Spirits & Liqueur Makers Association (JSLMA) – a kind of Japanese SWA – finally announced new guidelines for whisky labeling in Japan.
JSLMA’S POINT
Perhaps, at this point in the post, this goes without saying. But we decided to translate part of the statement that introduces the regulation of the Japan Spirits & Liqueur Makers Association, and which clarifies the reasons behind this much-desired rule.
“It is regrettable that in recent years there have been cases of brands using only imported whiskies and selling them as “Japanese whisky”, and cases of products that do not even qualify as “whisky” under Japanese tax laws, but which are sold as such in other countries, sowing confusion among consumers
Looking back at the history of whisky production in Japan, it is important to note that our journey began by learning the arts and crafts of Scotch whisky producers, as our predecessors began to create a distinct type of whisky, establishing a uniquely Japanese technique over the years.
It goes without saying that these developments are part of the history, tradition and culture of whisky production in Japan. The products created through this process have enriched whisky culture in Japan and are supported by many people around the world. JSLMA members are grateful for the efforts of our ancestors.
(…) by clearly defining what ‘Japanese Whisky’ is, and making this information available to the public in Japan and abroad, we seek to clarify the confusing situation for consumers. “
Yamazaki – 100% Japanese
JSLMA’S NEW WHISKY LABELING RULES
Let’s get to a prior clarification. The Japan Spirits & Liqueur Makers Association (JSLMA) is not a Japanese government body. But a private association, approved by the Japanese government. It is a kind of self-regulatory entity, similar to what would SEC be in the US, or ANBIMA in the Brazilian Capital Market. Yeah, you didn’t expect that, right Gordon Gekko?
According to JSLMA, the new standards are intended (…) to contribute to the proper selection of whiskies by consumers in Japan and abroad, and to protect the interests of consumers as well as ensure fair competition and improve quality“. and continues “these standards apply to whiskies sold in Japan, or sold from Japan abroad, by business operators (ie companies)”
The JSLMA regulation provides a table with the rules to be followed by whisky producers in Japan, so that they can label their products as “japanese whisky” or “Japanese whisky”. The first is that raw materials must be limited to malted grains, or other cereals, and water must be extracted from Japan. Malted grains must always be used.
The second determination concerns the production itself. The saccharification, fermentation and distillation must be done by a distillery in Japan. Here, there is an important point. Malting is a kind of saccharification. Which means that here there is a divergence between Scotland and Japan. And that the new Japanese rules are even more restrictive than the SWA’s Scottish ones. In the oriental version, malting must be done in Japan. It is not allowed to buy malted barley from other countries. Additionally, the alcoholic strength after distillation must not exceed 95% – so that afterwards it is obviously cut with water.
The third refers to maturation, and is almost a mirror of the Scottish rule. Almost. The new-make spirit must be placed in wooden barrels of no more than 700 liters for at least three years. If you read it fast, you might have missed a detail. Or maybe we’re just lost in translation, like Bill Murray. But the use of the word “wood” is curious – it is not clear whether oak is the only barrel allowed. We should wait for news.
Lost in this too
Finally, bottling must take place in Japan, and the alcoholic strength must be at least 40%. This rule is also more restrictive than the Scottish one, which allows blended scotch whiskies to be bottled outside of Scotland. Under the Scotch Whisky Association rule, only single malts must be bottled in their country of origin. Additionally, only plain caramel coloring can be used in Japanese Whiskies.
The rule also states that there should not be any expressions or terms between the words “japanese” and “whisky”, except to indicate the type of whisky – for example, single malt or blended. And for the smart ones, synonyms are also covered by the rule. So, no Japanese whisky, for example. The regulation goes further, and also says that it is not worth making a whisky that looks like a Japanese, with ideograms, names and expressions that are clearly Japanese. No “Hokusai Whisky” or “Mount Fuji“.
All these guidelines, however, have an adaptation period. As of April 1st, new products (launched after that date) must follow the published rules. However, whiskies that didn’t follow the rule before may remain rebellious until March 31, 2024, as is – surprisingly – the case with Nikka From the Barrel. In other words, until then, not all Japanese whisky will be real Japanese.
It is important to point out that, unlike Scotland and its Scotch Whisky Association, the JSLMA rules do not have the force of law. But, they are valid for the members of the association. Which, in practice, does not mean the end of non-Japanese Japanese whisky. But it is an important step in the transparency of a market that has been lacking in some transparency for years. And more transparency and equality bring more security to the consumer – and help maintain the good name of japanese whisky in the world. Kampai to that.
Monday, eleven o’clock at night. My daughter sneaks into the dark room in her socks, where she surprises me putting the finishing touches on a bucket of whiskey and Angostura that I dared to call an Old Fashioned. Daddy, I can’t sleep.” I think, quickly “like me” – i think. But that this problem would be solved as soon as I finished the glass in my hand. Why sugar? I ask, in a tone that is both affectionate and uncomfortable. What follows was a dialogue that I tried to reproduce as truthfully as possible below.
Because there is a monster under my bed – but baby girl, your bed is a trundle bed, no monster can fit under there, only if it’s a planarian. Awkward silence. Dad, what is a planarian? – forget it baby, there’s no monster under your bed, look, come on, I’ll show you. I rest the glass on the piano. She hesitates. But daddy, aren’t you afraid of the monster? – no, little girl, i’m not – but daddy, aren’t you afraid of anything? – actually, darling, I’m afraid of a lot of things, but not monsters, because they don’t exist. She turns her head to the side, like a puppy that doesn’t quite understand what one is saying – and what is there that you’re afraid of?
I think a little. I’m afraid of a lot of things. But I immediately answered an obvious one. Bills. She looks at me with interest. Is a Bill a monster?No, little girl, but a bill exists. She squints her eyes and sharpens her gaze. But – how – do – you – know – that – monster – doesn’t – exist? I give up. I don’t know, maybe monsters exist and they just ignore me because I’m as primal a life form as the planarian abovementioned. I believe in so many things that don’t exist, too.
And the world of whisky is like that too. Full of beliefs. Myths, legends, stories that are perpetrated from drinker to drinker, and that have no real basis. Some of them are as follows.
BLUE LABEL IS 21 YEARS OLD
Okay, that’s easy. It’s not, and Red Label isn’t seven or eight years old either. Both are, in fact, what is known as NAS – No Age Statement.
According to the rules of the Scotch Whisky Association, for a Scotch whisky to be called “scotch whisky” it must – among other rules – spend three years in oak barrels of no more than seven hundred liters. But, normally, the age is higher than this. When whiskies from different casks are blended, the producer must put the age of the youngest whisky on the label. So if you mix a ten year with a twenty year, the label will say ten year. Or not.
Or not because the producer has the option of not declaring age. In this case, we do not know exactly how old the youngest component is. But we know that, as a rule, it must be more than three years. And both Blue Label and Red Label fall under this rule. But it’s obvious that they’re not the same age. Sensorially, Blue indicates that it has much more mature whiskies. Including grain whiskies that must have spent a long time in oak barrels – that’s why it doesn’t have those sharp edges, which we find in some other blends.
Whether the price is worth it or not is up to each drinker to decide. However, it is worth remembering that the “no age statement” is a market trend, and that there are fantastic whiskies that do not have any number printed on the label, such as Macallan Reflexion, Dalmore King Alexander III and Bruichladdich Classic Laddie.
CORN IN WHISKEY IS BAD
This is a complicated legend. Because, to be honest, we don’t really know where it came from. We suspect this is a prejudice borrowed from the world of pure malt beer – that is, made from 100% malted barley. Many of the beers we know and that are widely consumed in Brazil contain a large proportion of corn in their recipes – up to 45%. Others, however, use only malted barley. The latter tend to be fuller-bodied and, due to production costs, also significantly more expensive.
Over time, and because of this market positioning, the brewer who went through pseudo-enlightenment starts to despise corn beer – for him, it is synonymous with a cheap drink, simply smooth and without any complexity or flavor. In fact, not just pure malt. Wheat is also valid, rye, triticale, buckwheat, oats, rice, anything. It just can’t be corn. And then, as whiskey is basically a distilled beer, one thing leads to another, and, out of nowhere, corn in whiskey is bad.
The fallacy is actually blaming the corn. There are incredible beers made from corn – although the cereal is well used for simpler beers – as well as whiskies. Pappy Van Winkle bourbon whiskey, the most desired in the United States, with bottles that can easily reach thousands of dollars in price, has a predominance of corn in its mashbill (recipe). Just like Woodford Reserve, a bourbon well loved by enthusiasts. So here, the summary is – there is no point in simplifying. It’s not the corn’s fault, but of whoever manufactures the whisky. There are also dreadful single malts, too.
THE OLDER THE BETTER
This is a myth that, in large part, was fostered by the scotch whisky industry itself. And that, later – due to enormous demand and scarcity of highly matured stock – had to be denied.
Maturation is a very important stage in whiskey production. Some sensory characteristics only emerge over time. And a lot of time – especially those characteristics brought about by oxidation. Oxygen, present in the air, reacts with certain components of the drink. It is the esters, thiols and phenols that provide some of those pleasant aromas in their preferred dose, and which lose or gain strength with oxidation, depending on their nature.
Whiskies, while maturing in barrels, oxidize. They are in constant contact with the air, due to a gap in the barrels. And this element directly influences its flavor. Even though other tricks to accelerate maturation are employed – such as, for example, the use of quarter casks – the flavor profile provided by decades in a barrel cannot be simulated in any other way.
Time softens some characteristics, too. Peated whiskies, for example, are sensorially more peated when they are young. Over time, a process of degradation of phenols occurs. Which is a physical-chemical process, and can happen through oxidation, absorption, extraction, etc. Furthermore, with the increase in the influence of wood, the phenols become more discreet.
Finally, there is a matter of balance. A whisky that uses a very strong cask – a first fill of sherry, for example – reaches its break-even point very quickly. The balance point is where, sensorially, the new-make spirit can be felt as much as the barrel. Nothing overlaps.
So, in short, age does not equal quality. It depends on the subject. If you want an extremely peated and alcoholic whisky, for example, it’s best to bottle it young. If you use a very powerful barrel, too. This is the case of Port Charlotte Scottish Barley (for the first example) and Aberlour A’Bunadh, for the second.
I HAVE KEPT A BOTTLE FOR 30 YEARS, IT MUST BE WORTH A FORTUNE
Sorry if I’m aggressive. If you keep an ordinary thing for thirty years, it will not become extraordinary because of time. It will continue to be an ordinary thing. Old and ordinary. So, here, the answer is quite simple – only extraordinary whiskies, with real collectible value, really rare and desired, tend to increase in value. Simpler whiskies, which were widely sold, have no collecting value. It’s a simple matter of economics, considering supply and demand. A whisky will only appreciate in value if the supply is lower than the demand for it.
Not worth much.
A parallel can easily be drawn with automobiles. Some old cars are extremely desired and sought after. They are those who broke paradigms, or who marked an era with innovative design or creative engineering solutions. The Mercedes-Benz Gullwing, for example, the Hemi-Cuda or the Corvette Stingray. They were rare cars that became even rarer, each for their own reasons. The Marea Turbo, however, will remain just a Marea Turbo. Until it catches fire.
Likewise, a Ballantine’s Finest or a Pinwinnie Royale haven’t changed much in price. A Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition or a Brora – whose distillery closed in the 80s, however – increased in value incredibly. There are a few exceptions, such as White Horse from the sixties, but they only confirm the rule.
This is the first part of a two-part post about myths and legends in the world of whiskey. Get ready, dear readers. Time to get nervous.
Boitatá, curupira, headless mule. Satyr, faun, centaur. Werewolf, vampire. Every culture has their mythical creatures. They were born from the need to explain what was previously inexplicable. Or simply ensuring that people behaved correctly and didn’t do anything barbaric. After all, it’s easier to explain that a winged demon will suck your blood at night than to rationally explain why you shouldn’t satisfy your lust with your best friend’s partner.
The world of whiskey, too, is full of beliefs and folklore. Myths, which no one really knows where they came from. And, in a world of post-truths, fueled by immediacy and the enormous flow of (mis)information, these beliefs multiply and perpetuate. Some are based on purism. Others, in rather strange analogies. And others, still, must have sprouted from the ground out of the blue, because they don’t make any sense – like the talk about the abovementioned demon.
Here we identify some of them, and explain why they are not true. Rationally.
SINGLE MALTS ARE BETTER THAN BLENDS
This is probably one of the most popular legends, it’s like the headless (and brainless) mule of the whisky world. The reality, however, is that single malts and blends are just different. Due to the different production process, blends tend to be lighter, more accessible – sensorially speaking – and with a more balanced flavor profile. The idea of blends is precisely this. Create standardization and reach the largest consumer base possible, creating a pleasant and accessible product. Blends benefit from having hundreds of different whiskies at your disposal to generate sensorial richness.
Single malts, on the other hand, are the most profound experience you will have within a given sensory profile. Because they are produced in a single distillery, using only malted barley, and are necessarily distilled in pot stills, the range that a given single malt can have, sensorially speaking, is more limited. In other words, perhaps obvious: it is easier to produce diametrically opposed blends under the same brand than very different single malts under the same roof. On the other hand, what single malts lose in balance, they gain in depth and intensity. As a general rule – and there are several exceptions here – single malts are more intense and deeper.
This Dog’s opinion is that there is learning curve here. When we start to like whiskies, we gravitate towards single malts. It is a process of rupture and return. We must break with what we already know (blends) to discover the new (single malts). As we progress, however, the story changes, and we slowly describe an arc and understand why the Chivas Regal 18 Year Old is absolutely incredible, for example.
BAD QUALITY WHISKY CAUSES A HANGOVER
The keyword is hidden. Quality can be both sensorial (synonymous with complexity) and of production. If it is the first, the statement is a lie. Just because whisky is simple, “bland”, dull or whatever adjective you use, that doesn’t mean it will give you a hangover. In fact, if you’ve had a hangover drinking a dull whisky, it’s anything but dull, because you probably drank too much. One of the most common reasons for a hangover is, precisely, dehydration and consequent loss of water-soluble vitamins and electrolytes, due to excessive alcohol consumption (note that excessive alcohol consumption here is not discretionary).
Production quality, however, is a more delicate matter. If the production quality is low, then perhaps we will have a hangover. It can also be caused by ingesting methanol. Methanol is present, in small quantities, in almost all alcoholic drinks, as it is a product derived from fermentation. Our body transforms methanol into formaldehyde and formic acid. These substances are responsible, in part, for the unpleasant symptoms of a hangover.
So thirsty
Some drinks have higher levels of methanol than others. This, in large part, has to do with particularities of the production of each type – tequilas have more methanol than vodkas, for example – but also with some choices made by the producer. Most methanol is produced at the beginning of the distillation process, when the “foreshots” of the spirit is extracted. A wider foreshot cut – with a lower alcohol content, leaving part of the foreshots to run with the heart – can bring more methanol, for example. The curious thing here is that this has nothing to do with the price of the drink. There are incredible single malts that have more methanol in their new-makes than entry-level blends.
What is the solution to all this? Drink moderately.
COUNTERFEIT WHISKY CHANGES COLOR IN BREAD
This is a new legend, which was perpetrated by internet misinformation. Some fake whiskies, depending on how they are counterfeited, can even change color when in contact with bread. This happens in very – but very – rudimentary fakes, where the forger uses iodine to color the spirit, so that it acquires a tone more similar to the original whisky.
The problem is that the most common form of counterfeiting is not putting a spirit distilled in the backyard, or vodka, or cachaça, and coloring it with iodine. But rather, putting a cheaper whisky inside a bottle of more expensive whisky. In this case, no method works, because what is inside the bottle is whisky. In other words, it’s whisky inside a whisky bottle. But a liquid worth 30 reais inside an empty bottle of whisky worth 200 reais.
Because of this, there is no point in shaking the bottle or tapping it with the pen. The best way to ensure that a whisky is original is to buy from a reputable place.
YOU CANNOT PUT ICE IN WHISKY
This is another myth that probably arose from the need to explain something very quickly or prevent something imminent from happening, like, well, someone putting a bunch of ice in a whiskey glass. In fact, as always, one must behave in accordance the moment. In fact, guys, this is a rule for life. Always behave in accordance the moment, do not embarrass yourself in public. But anyway, I digress.
There are two distinct consumption situations. Analytical tasting and drinking for pleasure. At the first case, it’s really not a good idea to add ice. Ice reduces the temperature of the drink and can alter its sensory balance. The bitters are more intense and the sweets are softer. Furthermore, the low temperature makes your taste buds less sensitive, which makes it a bit difficult for you to feel the more delicate flavors. In analytical tasting, therefore, the ideal is to drink it pure, or with a little good quality still water – this reduces the alcoholic impression of the whisky, and binds together some congeners responsible for the flavors and aromas.
If you want to drink for pleasure, however, anything goes. You can drink it with ice, with coconut water, mix it in a cocktail, put an ice cap inside your glass and just a little whisky. Or a floating mini-ice like a sailor adrift on the ocean in an abysmal cesspool of booze. The watchword here is fun. Whisky is a supporting factor. You just want to drink something delicious, be happy and have a good time. It’s like they say, you don’t need alcohol to have fun, but you don’t need sneakers to run either, it just helps a lot.
Finally, there is the issue of ice quality. Large ices made with neutral, quality water are best if your idea is to better preserve the aromas and flavors of the whisky. They have less dilution, and fewer impurities, which can bring flavors that interfere with the drink.
MAKING A COCKTAIL WITH WHISKY IS ABSURD
Well, cocktail history practically began with a whisky cocktail. The Old Fashioned. That’s why today it’s called Old Fashioned. Furthermore, many of the most classic cocktails in the world contain whisky. Manhattan, Highball (Haiboru), Boulevardier, Rusty Nail, Godfather, Whisky Sour and Penicillin are just some of them. So, I think it’s pretty clear that you can mix whisky to make a cocktail, and if you disagree, the ghost of Jerry Thomas dressed as a satyr will pull your leg at night.
To be honest, we are very purists. The phrase “the whisky spent years maturing in a warehouse for someone to come and mix something with it” demonstrates a certain hypocrisy. The sausage spent months maturing. The cheese spent weeks curing. That doesn’t stop you from mixing everything together on ordinary toast, adding an ocean worth of ketchup and mustard and – worst of all – drinking coke to wash everything down your throat.
Subchapter – you cannot make cocktails with single malt. Here, the prohibition is more specific. Single malts tend to be more expensive, and because of their high price, it can seem like a waste. It is said that if you are going to mix it, the whisky doesn’t make any difference. But this is untrue. Firstly, because the sensorial characteristics of your base drink will have a huge impact on the cocktail. In the same way as, for example, the type of cheese you put on your sandwich. If the base you are using for your cocktail doesn’t make a difference sensorially, in the end, you are making your cocktail wrong.
Secondly, because sometimes using a specific single malt is the only way to achieve a desired flavor profile. Peat, for example. When looking to create a drink that has a predominantly smoked characteristic, using a single malt may be the only option. Here, the important thing is to – as in life – know what you are doing.
Tiredness really is a surreal condition, I thought, as I pulled the cork and poured a generous dose into a low glass. Two-twelve in the morning. The last couple and a half hours have slipped by me totally unnoticed. And now, frozen at the exact moment that the first drop fell from the mouth of the bottle, I reflected on how I had arrived at that moment.
I have a few flashes of recent memory. After going to bed at two and waking up at five the day before, I decided that a morning jog would be a good idea. I came back, showered, made a bathtub worth of coffee, and slipped through three consecutive meetings, which ended up in something that could be considered dinner – a chicken curiously raw on one side and charred on the other.
Then my body – which had clearly already been abandoned by my mind – decided it would be a good idea to start a post for this blog. Nine-thirty at night, give or take. I went catatonic, staring at the blank screen for an hour and a half, before I finally gave up, turned off the computer and went to bed. And then, the most curious thing happened.
(It’s not J.C., it’s Hugh Jackman)
I passed in front of my whisky cabinet and, sideways, noticed a curious bottle. John Walker & Sons Celebratory Blend. An item just added to my timid liquid library and released in December 2020 in our country. Still fully sealed, waiting for the perfect moment to try this blog. The perfect moment like, for example, just that.
Fade out, fade in. Sitting at the breakfast room table, tumbler in hand, my neurons took a last breath. So. Tired. Ok, just a wee dram – fifteen minutes and then bed – I silently promised as the whiskey went down. I felt the first aromas. Sweet, cinnamon, brown sugar, vanilla. Very aromatic, and somewhat reminiscent of the late Gold Label 18. I remember reading that Jim Beveridge, the master blender behind the creation, once stated that “the Celebratory Blend is inspired by flavours found in the stocktaking books from Walker’s store, which were housed in Diageo’s archive. We wanted to use only whiskies that would have been available to the family in the 1860s and to create a sense of the aromas and flavours of the shop.”
Before taking the first sip, I gazed at the bottle with interest. The Johnnie Walker Celebratory Blend package is inspired by the Old Highland Whiskey, originally released in the 1960s of the nineteenth century. It was the first Johnnie Walker whisky to be created for export, and the first to feature the iconic square bottle with a diagonal label. The case also pays homage to that whisky, and contains the only known photo of the Walkers emporium in Kilmarnock.
The place
I took my first sip. Sweet at the beginning, but winey and fruity at the end. Dried fruits, raisins, plums. The finish reminds of discreet smoke, dry pepper and ginger. Very good, just what I needed, I mumbled to myself as I felt a strange heaviness over my eyebrows. It was like my forehead was going to collapse over my eyes. I took a deep breath, took another sip and noticed an incredible detail. 51% alcoholic strength! That’s bold.
I remembered that the Johnnie Walker Celebratory Blend is part of a trio of Diageo releases to commemorate 200 years of Johnnie Walker. In addition to this, two luxury blended scotch whiskeys were also produced, the John Walker & Sons Bicentenary Blend and the Johnnie Walker Blue Label Legendary Eight. Both, with the participation of silent stills belonging to the constellation of Diageo distilleries. One more sip, that’s it.
As soon as I finished the dram, I went back to the room and turned on the computer again. And I turned off myself. I must have spent a good half hour – or more – like this. Napping, in peace, in front of the machine. Opening my eyes, I looked at the text I had just produced. Or not. I looked at the bottle again in front of me. Not this time, my dear Johnnie Walker Celebratory Blend. Time to go to bed. Goodnight.
JOHNNIE WALKER CELEBRATORY BLEND
Type: Blended Whiskey with no defined age (NAS)
Brand: Johnnie Walker
Region: N/A
ABV: 51%
TASTING NOTES
Aroma: Sweet, cinnamon, brown sugar, vanilla
Flavor: Sweet at the beginning, but winey and fruity at the end. Dried fruits, raisins, plums. A discreet smoke that ends and a dry pepper of ginger.
I’m going to tell you a bit of a disconcerting thing, which I’m not sure how it happened. My dog ate my earphones. It took me a while to figure it out. I missed it on Sunday, but I thought I had left it in some improbable place, and that I would soon find it. But over the next few days, I began to find clues to his real whereabouts – my pet’s digestive system. First, one of those little balls that gets in your ear. Then a piece of black cable. And the definitive and incriminating evidence – a P2 plug, all destroyed on the porch of the house.
I don’t know what made Sazerac eat earphones. It didn’t surprise me at all – he had already eaten weird things, like a slipper and a piece of the wall. But, the earphones struck me as especially weird. Because of its length and texture, it takes a lot of effort to eat earphones. I decided to search the internet. And I discovered something even more surprising: there are a lot of people with a similar compulsion.
I learned that the syndrome has the curious name of pica. But, to avoid any jokes with the make reproductive organ in Portuguese, I will call you by the more technical names. Allotriophagy or allotriogeusia. Defined, perhaps in wonderful simplicity, as “the habit of eating substances with no nutritional value”. There are even well-known cases, such as a woman who gorged herself on dirty baby diapers, a lady who ate an entire room and a madman who consumed five thousand filament lamps throughout his gastrically painful existence. There’s even a movie about it – Swallow, starring Haley Bennett.
Chico – allotriophagy master
I wondered, afterwards, if we whisky enthusiasts aren’t a bit like that. There is a strange compulsion to try something we’ve never tasted. It’s unnatural, even, because as animals, we’re supposed to preserve our health and there are few things riskier than ingesting something we don’t know about. And there’s also the business of playing it safe. If something is already tasty and known, this force that makes us leave the comfort zone just to have a slightly (or quite) different experience is somewhat inexplicable.
But it was precisely in this tune that I tried Chivas Extra 13 years, recently launched by the brand in Brazil. Once a NAS blended whisky, the label has been re-launched on world markets now with an age statment and new composition. Something that gave me the proverbial chills. I’ve always had a special affection for Chivas Extra – partly for an emotional reason, and partly because I really like whisky. For me, any change was unjustifiable. However, when I tried the new version, I felt safe again.
Even more so because the tasting was done in a virtual tasting, conducted by none other than Sandy Hyslop, master blender of the Chivas Regal group, and by ambassadors Rhys Wilson and Ken Lindsay. During the event, Hyslop explained that the 13 year old Chivas Extra takes a generous portion of single malts aged in European oak barrels that previously contained Oloroso sherry wine – especially Longmorn. This gives a peppery note, of ginger, and a certain dry fruitiness, which sometimes resembles figs, sometimes raisins.
When asked about the origin of the sherry wine, Hyslop stated, “We don’t buy any empty sherry casks and sent it to Scotland. We go way beyond that. We buy Spanish oak, which is seasoned for eighteen months in Spain. The casks are then assembled and we specify the exact oloroso that will go into the casks for another year. And then they are emptied and shipped to Scotland. Everything has to be fast – they have to arrive in Scotland in 7 days and be filled with whisky in 10 days. And all of this happens in winter. We don’t do it in the summer to prevent the sherry from spoiling” and continues “we are investing at the very beginning of the process to guarantee the quality of our sherry casks“.
Hyslop explained that Chivas Extra 13 follows a very unusual production process. “The influence of sherry comes from thirteen years of maturation in Spanish oak sherry casks. We created a special thirteen year old blend, then took some first-fill casks of European Oak Longomorn Single Malt and incorporated it into the blend. The idea is to elevate the flavor of this thirteen years“. According to the master blender, creating balance is a fine adjustment – the Extra must maintain the credentials of the Chivas house.
I succumbed to the temptation to ask about the old Chivas Extra and its label changes. First “oloroso”, then sherry, and finally “oloroso” again. “All expressions use oloroso sherry. The description in the new expression comes from the consumers’ desire to know more about the product. The change in label was just our marketing playing with things. The formula remains exactly the same, I can assure you of the guy who makes the whisky“
Former NAS expression
Sensorially, the new Chivas Rega Extra 13 years has important similarities with its predecessor. But it’s also remarkably different. The old whisky was more aggressive and intense. The new one, with age, looks sweeter and more polished. The influence of the oloroso sherry wine is also more evident – let the two doses rest in the glass for a few minutes and this difference will be even clearer. Chivas Regal Extra 13 years evolves into a pleasantly sweet and winey whisky.
Perhaps, indeed, we have a share of allotriophagy. A very mild version of the habit, in which we deprive ourselves of drinking what we know just for the thrill of tasting something new. It may seem a little inexplicable, but it’s actually crystal clear. It is products like the new Chivas Regal Extra 13 years that justify this impulse. I feel that, more and more, I understand my beloved canine.
CHIVAS REGAL EXTRA 13 YEARS
Type: Blended Whisky (13 years old)
Brand: Chivas Regal
Region: N/A
ABV: 40%
TASTING NOTES
Aroma: floral aroma, marzipan and candied fruit.
Palate: candied fruit and plum, with marzipan, ginger and milk chocolate. Long and sweet finish, more winey and smooth than the NAS expression.
Apologies. Once again, I will talk about cinema. And I know sometimes it feels like this is a movie blog rather than whisky. But the analogy is too good to be wasted on the allegation of exhaustion. I fear, by the way, that the apologies should be doubled – because the relationship is also so direct that it is even obvious. The movie Angel’s Share, by Ken Loach.
Angel’s Share tells the story of a group of marginalized young people, who discover the pleasure of tasting the water of life. And from there, due to a series of coincidences, they learn about a very rare cask of whisky, from a distillery that has been demolished a long time ago. Malt Mill. Knowing how valuable rare whiskies are, the team devises a plan to steal a few bottles and sell them on the parallel market.
Loach’s film, in this respect, is incredibly subtle. Real characters from the whisky world, such as Charles MacLean, are perfectly incorporated into the story to the point of appearing fictional. And so does the object of desire and the pivot of everything. The Malt Mill.
Ken Loach’s entire work, by the way, has a curious parallel with the theme presented here. The UK-born filmmaker presents in almost all of his films an unromanticized image of what his country is all about. From The Wind That Shakes The Barley (perhaps his best-known film) to Me, Daniel Blake, Loach shows the disgrace of civil wars to the failure of social policies in an unpleasantly realistic approach. Something that also impacted the scotch whisky industry. After all, distilleries, like any business, are prone to the socioeconomic conditions of their country.
It’s hard for us to imagine, in the current scenario, a good reason for a distillery to close down. After all, nowadays, Scotch whisky is one of the best known and best-loved drinks in the world. But the rise to success was not linear. Scotch whisky has had a hard time during its history. And, in several situations, for a certain group or company to survive, it was necessary to sacrifice one or more distilleries. It is these, deactivated, demolished or (rarely) blown up that we give the name of Ghost Distilleries, or Silent Stills (silent stills). Let’s tell the story of some of them and the reasons behind their downfall here.
Starting with the Malt Mill, object of Ken Loach’s film. The distillery was founded in 1908 by Peter Mackie, who also owned the now-desired Lagavulin. At that time, it was his company, Mackie & Co., which distributed the malts of one of its neighbors, Laphroaig, through a commercial partnership. A partnership that collapsed when in 1907 – a year before the foundation of Malt Mill – Laphroaig decided to sell its products on its own.
Enraged, Mackie tried to sabotage his neighbor in endless ways – he even blocked the supply of water to Laphroaig. Finally, in a fit of rage as stupid as it was lavish, he built an entire distillery just like Laphroaig, just to try to get it off the market. This distillery was the Malt Mill. The idea – obviously – backfired, and in 1962 Malt Mill was demolished and its equipment incorporated into Lagavulin.
Malt Mill
Only a small bottle of new-make remains, which is currently proudly displayed at Lagavulin’s visitor center. Until recently, there was no record of a Malt Mill bottling – except for its use in the company’s blends, with White Horse and Mackie’s Ancient Scotch. Because of this, in fact, that the international market values White Horses from the sixties and seventies. For the possibility of containing Malt Mill. No casks have been preserved – and the fictional discovery of one that serves as the backdrop for Loach’s film.
But there were (and are) a multitude of reasons why an absolutely healthy distillery stopped production and became just part of the story. One of them was Pattinson’s Crash of 1896. In the late nineteenth century, the whisky scene looked like it was today. Investing in expensive and rare whisky bottles had become a trend, and several companies were opened to explore this market niche.
Among them was Pattison, Elder & Company. According to a story by whisky historian Gavin D. Smith, they used various unhonest subterfuges to inflate the value of their stocks and their company. However, in 1896, the company began to default – and the practices came to the fore. Upon declaring bankruptcy, more than a dozen other companies in the industry went with it – partly because they were creditors of the latter, and partly because of the market’s loss of confidence in scotch whisky.
More drama followed. Some of them, external historical factors, like the Volstead Act, which decimated the distilleries of Campbelltown, for example. Or the two great wars. Focus on World War II, when dozens of distilleries stopped production to assist in the manufacture of fuel and supplies for the war. Laphroaig was one of those hit, for example. The distillery only exists today because of the genius of its owner at the time, Bessie Williamson.
Other times, the downfall of a future Ghost Distillery took place due to elements inherent to the industry and the consumer market. As, for example, the fall in popularity of scotch whisky in favor of vodka in the sixties and seventies of the twentieth century, combined with the industry’s excess production. This, incidentally, was the phenomenon responsible for silencing distilleries that are now objects of desire of every enthusiast – Port Ellen, Brora and Rosebank. Each with a different story. But, in common, excess in a time of retraction.
Port Ellen was closed in 1985, and converted into a malting floor by its owner, Diageo. At the time, the consumption of whisky in the world was far from what it is today. And Diageo had three distilleries on Islay alone – Port Ellen, Lagavulin and Caol Ila. There was no reason to keep the three, even because production was almost entirely geared towards the production of blends. The choice was natural. It may seem absurd these days, but Port Ellen was the smallest – by production volume – and the least known and least loved of the three.
Brora also had a similar history, being consequently replaced – including in his logo – by dear Clynelish. And Rosebank, considered the queen of Lowland distilleries, was passed over in favor of Glenknichiewhich had a visitor center on a green hill just like the home of Teletubbies. Finally, Glenury was also another victim of the response to the 1985 market downturn.
Brora, currently part of Diageo Special Releases
And there were also a few cases where the fall of that ghost distillery was due to sheer bad luck. As is the case with Banff, founded in 1824. Which caught fire in 1877. Whose owners went bankrupt in 1932. And which was bombed by the Luftwaffe in 1941 (by the way, there is a curious episode about drunken cows ). And that exploded again in 1959, until it finally began to be demolished – voluntarily – in 1983, only to, during the demolition, catch fire and explode into a magnificent ball of fire a third time.
All of these distilleries, now ghost distilleries, were victims of their time – or bad luck, in the case of the unfortunate Banff. And perhaps his disgrace has become his greatest glory. Because, over time, they became sorts of industry martyrs. Of legacy, in most cases, his barrels remain. The maturing stock, patiently waiting to be bottled. And today, the traffic jams of precisely these stocks that are disputed by collectors as – and sorry for the cliché metaphor – liquid gold.
The reason for the search is not unique, either. First of all, there is a certain romance to tasting a liquid that will never be replaced. Even more for someone in love with that drink. Second, there is curiosity. Curiosity to know what that liquid tasted like. For the most aficionados, draw comparisons and finally satiate curiosity. Prove, in the tongue, that Port Ellen is as good as Lagavulin. That Clynelish is superior to Brora. Or not.
Will we have more silent distilleries in the future? I do not know. Probably – history shows that the movement is pendular. But if we do, I hope that excellent films will also be produced about them.
