mortimers malts

Turning Japanese (we actually, really, think so)

2010-11-24T14:49:00.000-08:00

Following the strict voice of Allt om Whiskys editor, Åke, I gladly accepted to do a tasting of 36 japanese whiskies for the next issue of the magazine.
As this is no task to be taken lightly, I summoned my most trusted noses (aka Peo, Olle and El Mannio) and we sat down with our blends, malts and vats.

We started out with nothing, and we've still got most of it left, as Seasick Steve put it. Or, we started out with the blended and vatted whiskies such as the Hibiki, the Taketsura and others, moved over to non-age single malts and went through them all up to 20+ years (the oldest being 35 yo).

If you live in Sweden, or understand swedish, the test will be in the next number. Otherwise you'll have to drop me a comment for more info on which were good, better and best!

Ridiculous

2010-10-19T14:39:00.000-07:00

Many are the times when you start wondering about the ways of the world, or at least the world of whisky. Prices for aged whiskies and "rare" malts are sky-rocketing beyond belief, and no sign of things slowing down.

Have a look at whiskyauction.com. If you manage to find an Ardbeg from the 1970's for less than 700 pounds, you are either lucky, or about to be out-bid.

But, all prices aside, nothing beats the Dalmore Trinity, which - with only three bottles produced including whisky from the late 1800's - apparently retails (or, as only one bottle is left to sell, perhaps should be retail in singular) for 100.000 pounds.

Provocative pricing, but somewhere, somehow, somewhat smart marketing.

Funnily enough though, I still find few whiskies that beat, for example, a 21yo Glenfarclas for 65 pounds. Thank God.

The top selling whiskies of Sweden

2010-08-08T16:01:00.000-07:00

Just back home after doing a tasting of the 12 best selling whiskies in Sweden for an article in the magazine (that's Allt om Whisky for you who weren't aware).
One can say alot about the massive interest in all things whisky in Sweden, but the fact that two of our three top selling whiskies are Canadian says a lot.

Not only are the canadian, but they - and I have to apologize to all my Canadian friends here - do taste like shit. Sweet as a liqeur, no body, absolutely no finish at all, and no character to mention. No wonder grandmothers of the country all buy this... this... alcohol.

Call me a snob, but I just simply can't get my head round why the top selling whiskies all are so bad?
Funnily enough, the tasting was built around a few people without any major whisky interest, but none of them found any of the 12 whiskies particularly exciting.

Ah well, I'm thinking that not even the world of whisky is free from the Lidl-mentality.

Era Ora

2010-07-28T13:50:00.000-07:00

Copenhagen, these days, is not as much a haven for hasch-seeking customers (they actually have shut down that street in Christiania you know), as it is a fantastic city for fine dining.
So, heading over to the danish capital for a day of record-store visiting (they also still have quite a few of those!), beer-drinking and eating, a visit to Michelin-Guide-starred italian restaurant Era Ora in Christianshavn was booked.
Having been here once before, in the company of half The Cardigans, I knew to expect a set menu of 14 dishes and some great wines.
But, boy had I forgotten the greatness of this place.
The courses came in threes, each with a new glass of wine. And every single course matched perfectly with the wine - each in it's own, personal way.
It was - literally - bringing tears to my eyes.
Seldom have I tasted such great food/wine-combos.
Believe the magic. If you ever, as in EVER, visit Copenhagen and are slightly interested in wine and food, make sure to visit Era Ora.
There. You have been warned!

Balblair - attention to detail.

2010-07-28T13:08:00.000-07:00

Balblair has, as might have noticed, should you have visited a whisky-selling shop the past year or so, had a total make-over on their design and product-range.
With the focus being moved to vintages, they now release various years production - and after a visit to Copenhagen, I picked up a 12yo expression bottled in 2009.
Yes friends, that makes the vintage 1997.
Not having had that much experience of the Balblair previously, apart from the occasional independent bottling, and mostly older ages, I wasn't quite sure what to expect.
The new packaging looks good, and I quite like the square box, I must admit. The accompanying letter with the "ye olde attention to tradition and detail" bull went straight to the waste-bin, but after pooring myself an initial dram, I stand corrected.
This is one great malt.
10-12yo is the age most (read: almost all) distilleries bottle their standard single malt at, and it is with that in mind I compare the whisky.
The nose is intriguing: a whiff of peat followed by exotic fruits. A nuttiness with malty overtones followed by sweeter vanillas and a hint of toffee. Very very pleasing.
On the palate, the fruitiness takes over, reminding almost of a young Glenugie. The exotic fruits are there, as well as the bourbon-wood influences and the peat rears it's smoky head slightly.
A nice, warming aftertaste that stays on longer than your average malt makes this well worth looking at as your everyday whisky.
It's not too expensive, and kicks serious butt with most other 12yo malts. What's not to like? me thinks.

Beer... Good.

2010-07-25T12:29:00.000-07:00

As this a blog on malts, and I've been known to enjoy the occasional beer, I might as well mention them when they cross my path.
One lesser known (at least here in Sweden) is from Bath-based brewery Bath Ales - the clue is in the title etc etc - and is called the Wild Hare.
With a strength of 5% abv, and completely organic, it is a perfectly balanced ale with both the lighter notes that some refer to as citrus, and heavier malty notes to make the picture complete.
Though lighter on the palate, it's still well worth discovering if you're a fan of the Fullers ESB and such ales.
And where would you find such an ale in Sweden? If you by any chance are in the far south of Sweden, there is a small village called Bästekille. This translate roughly as Best Guy. Just outside this small village, and trust me when I say it's small, is a pizzeria on a field. Friden is it's name, and apart from the weird fact that you can order a pizza in a vegetable field, they also stock a wide range of micro-brewery beer.
Weird, but nice. Very nice indeed.

Glenfiddich Solera

2010-07-25T12:17:00.000-07:00

It seems to be the fate of the big brands; once you reach a certain level of production, you loose the love of the noobs. And in no case is it as obvious as with Glenfiddich.
Granted, there standard malt is anonymous to the level of criminality, but go one step beyond and there are some beautiful malts to be discovered.
Apart from the older bottlings, one bottle not to be missed is the Solera bottling; aged at 15 years it is still a light whisky, but with a more intense honey note than usual.
Given the Solera cask-system (a principal of refilling and using casks) there is a heavier note of wood with more fruit, vanillas and a subtle nuttiness in the background.
If you are on holiday, as one is when one writes pieces like this, a dram of Solera-fiddich sits nicely on a sunday evening.

Armorik

2010-07-24T05:27:00.000-07:00

Without any further research, a bottle of this Bretagne-malt was purchased at the local systembolag (that's the local monopoly for booze here in Sweden). Being interested in the malt, one wasn't helped much by the information on the labels, unless one is fluent in french, which I am not.
So, as far as I'm concerned all I know is that it is from "Breton", it is a single malt and it's bottled at 40%.
So, can the french, like the japanese, give the ol' scots a match on whisky making?

the answer, having tasted the Armorik, is "well, sort of".

The first impression on the nose is wood, but in a young way, and without any bourbon influences - no vanillas or toffees here. I'm guessing this whisky is four or five years old, and the casks are fresh oak. Behind the wood tones, a whiff of maltiness and almonds appears. Given a 15 minutes or so in the glass allows a rather unexpected peatiness to evolve. Not unpleasant, just unexpected.

On the palate the whisky has a smooth feeling, with more of the almondy nuttiness, a rather straightforward maltiness that gives way to a slightly watery feeling in the end.
It would be interesting to try this malt at 46% or cask strength. I think there is more to be won from this one.

If they keep on going like this, we might have to add whisky next to the snails, wine and cheese among french culinary experiences.
Well done on a promising start, that needs a bit more refinery before I'm totally knocked out.

It's been a long time...

2010-07-24T04:58:00.000-07:00

but I'm back, and hopefully will be back a bit more frequently. Though terrible at keeping any sort of consequence, I will be updating with some more thoughts on all things malt here shortly.

Watch this space for a bit about malt whisky from, ehrm, France. Wine? Ok. Cheese? Sure. Snails? Obviously. Malt Whisky? I think not. Or..?

Islay 2010

2010-04-24T16:12:00.000-07:00

It’s that time of year, when the Scots turn fearfully back to their homes, lock the doors and pull the curtains; it’s the arrival of the Stockholm Malt & Metal Society once again. Uncharacteristically late though – we prefer the dark month of February usually.

The trip started, as always, with the stormtroopers of Malt gathering to take the bus to the worlds greatest known mystery to man; Skavsta Airport. However, the society had experienced a crack in it’s great, unified foundation: part of the group (Names! We hear you cry, well all right, Peo, Mellis, El Mannio, Anders M and Gordon ”Butt Crack!” Cook) had had just about enough of Ryanair last time round, and since they charged us a small fortune, or at least as much as a regular carrier, they opted to fly with Luftwaffe via Frankfurt to Edinburgh, arriving a couple of hours ahead of the rest of us.

Now, the crack in the group didn’t end there – John and Charlie were already located in Scotland, and met up at before us. The masochists among us (David, Niklas, Hegert, Anders F, Robbe and Hans) who used Ryanair arrived last, and thus had instructed the others to make sure there was a decent supply of beer and whisky for the bus trip.

Two crates of beer and a bottle of Bruichladdich Progressive Malt was loaded upon the bus. As we rolled out of Edinburgh airport we stopped for a short fuel-fill and mounting of the life-saving magnets with our war-logo on. As we pushed west-wards, we hit Glasgow, and the bottle of whisky was dangerously low on content.
Arriving a few hours later at Inveraray (yes, it’s a long way etc etc) at hotel Argyll, most of our bus-travelling passengers were duly tired or drunk, or both. After a gruesome check-in process we hit the bar only to meet Charlie and John, loudly playing pool, and who in comparison put us in complete sobriety. Being in Inveraray for six hours, they spent the time the only way they found relevant. Trying out all the bars of the town. Both of them, as it turned out. The rest of us tried half-heartedly to speed up to their level, but we all knew in our hearts it was a lost mission at start.

After speeding through breakfast early next morning we head south down Kintyre to Tarbert and the Kennacraig Ferry Terminal. Not only did the trip take less than an hour (as everyone said one and a half), but the ferry couldn’t open it’s front for one reason or another, leaving us waiting a further three quarters of an hour. Imagine those minutes being spent on a leasurely breakfast instead we thought.
But not for long. Within a short time we were aboard the ferry, and Calmac once again proved to have the best fry up on planet earth. Amazing soul-food for hungry malt freaks.

Arriving in heaven, or Islay, whichever, we sped off to Kilchoman for our first tour. But first things first: we sat down and ordered a nice healthy lunch in their farm café. We were now firmly set on eating our way around Scotland rather than drink it, as previously.

After orders were taken, we took the tour of this small, new distillery, and it is a great one as well. Very small scale, very open and informative, it is a great contrast to the huge monsters of distilleries you can find elsewhere on the mainland. After the tour, we had our pre-ordered lunch and sat back for a beer or two before raiding the shop.

Leaving Kilchoman, we headed back to Bowmore to check in at the cottages. Our good friend Nick Ravenhall – probably the most well informed New Zealander on scotch whisky in the world, and definitely one of the nicest as well – had hooked us up with a cottage in Bowmore. As we checked in our jaws dropped: beautiful house, nice garden, huge kitchen, loads of bedrooms and a great lounge on the top floor where we all gravitated to with our complimentary bottle of Bowmore malt during the late afternoon.

The stereo blasting away, the skies blue, everyone gathered with a beer and a great malt – what more could one ask for?

As it turned out, as we turned the TV on, one could actually ask for one last thing: a flight home on Sunday. The icelanders were finally taking their revenge on the refused loans from the EU and set off one of their smaller volcanos. Small, but spewing enough ash to the sky to stop us from being able to fly back it seemed. A quick check with Bowmore, yes the cottage was free for another few days, this could actually be quite good! However, John had to fight his way back to Stockholm, and set off on a dare-devil journey back via half of europe.

Dinner was eaten at Harbour Inn before heading over to Duffies Bar for ridiculous amounts of Old Acquaintance – probably the best malt in the world, should you ask us. Not only great malt, it’s spiritual (pun intended) home must be Duffies Bar on Islay.

Friday morning had it’s usual amount of hangoverness, but we all assembled like the troopers we are (minus John, who left us with a sombre look on his face) for the full scottish feast before heading over to Bruichladdich.
Followers of this proud society might recall that we, following our previous visit to Islay, bought a cask at Bruichladdich. It is appropriately numbered 666, and today we got to visit our beauty for the first time. Lying in the middle of the warehouse on bottom-floor (it needs to be as close to its spiritual father as possible… or something), we were informed that there was a small crack in the side of it, but nothing to worry about. Scottish engineering at it’s zenith was there to help: ”we, eh, turned the cask the other way round, so you should be fine”.
A taste of the nectar proved to be revealing: a very young spirit, aggressive and as evilly strong as it’s cask number implies (we’d like to think it’s currently 66,6%, though the truth is it’s closer to 69%), and kicking and screaming with citrus notes and a few early notes of caramel. It definitely needs another few years to calm down, but should be a cracking malt when we get our hands on it.

After lounging in the sun by the water, curing those last whiffs of hangover, we drove south for a while towards Portnahaven. We’d love to tell you what a beautiful village it was, and how picturesque it lies at the far south, but we got bored of driving down that small road and headed back to Ardbeg for lunch instead.
Greeted by Jackie who recognised us all, we got served an immaculate lunch. It has been said before, and will be said many times again: you haven’t seen Islay until you’ve had lunch at Ardbeg. A quick walk up to the cliffs for the photo-opportunity, and more lounging before heading over to Lagavulin for a warehouse tasting with Iain MacArthur.

Now, after visiting a few distilleries, you pretty much get the hang of it (”…to make whisky, you need only three ingredients”, and ”…the cows are happy!”), but the guidance of Iain is something completely different. After 40 years with the company it’s safe to say he knows what he’s talking about, and the tasting of a number of casks with different styles and ages, explaining what they all do was both informative and fun. The high point being when, for a second or two there was total silence before Gordon suddenly, from absolutely nowhere spit out ”Butt Crack!”.
It took a while before it sunk in, and to this day, neither we nor Gordon know exactly what he meant.

After Lagavulin, we discovered a castle on the other side of the bay. Lagavulin is of course gaelic for ”bay that needs to be discovered by swedish whisky society, despite the surrounding grounds being very, very wet and swamp-like”. We headed over, we climbed and we, eh, walked back.

Back in Bowmore a few of us checked the latest on the ashes, and that’s not the cricket. Some of us who weren’t as concerned, headed up to the Bowmore distillery to be treated to a few drams with an exceptional view of Loch Indaal. Loch Indaal of course being gaelic for ”bay with a view permitting swedish whisky club members to drink a lot of very fine whisky”.

As dinner time arrived, several members meant that dinner was at 7pm. David, being the person who booked the evening, told them to stop being ridiculous, it was at 7:30, and he should know as he booked it. As we headed off in the van to arrive at 7:29 at Port Charlotte Hotel, we were met by an angry maitre’d who in no short words told us we should have been there at 7:00. It wouldn’t hurt to actually read the itinerary as it was printed, David.

Late or not, the food at Port Charlotte was absolutely nothing short of excellent, and a great night was had by all. On return to Bowmore we hit Duffies Bar again, had a few more Auld Acquaintances, and had the opportunity to meet Freddie Laing of Douglas Laing-fame. If you don’t know who Douglas Laing is, chances are you’re wasting your time reading this travel report all together.
Saturday was our first day of clouds and rain. Very scottish, yet a slight let down for us as we were quickly getting accustomed to the nice sunny weather (not a sign of ash anywhere, thank you very much). As the old saying goes: when in rain, head for Jura.

After getting over to Jura, visiting the distillery, having a few drams and a cup of coffee in the nearby café, we realised we’d more or less seen all of civilisation on Jura. Back to Islay then. With a few hours before the ferry to the mainland we visited Finlaggan (that’s the seat of the Lord of the Isles for all you history-noobs out there), a quick visit and photo session at Bruichladdich, and a brief stop at Caol Ila to take more pictures. We are truly the Japanese of the world’s whisky societies. Bruichladdich was eerily closed with a fire alarm ringing (it wasn’t us, milord, we promise) and the odd letter missing from the main sign.

Back on to the ferry, more great food and on to the mainland. Now the realisation that we weren’t going to get home as we’d planned hit us, and it hit hard. Reports from John that he’d hardly managed to leave Britain, as well as all our initial trials hitting nothing began to sink in. This is was a true challenge. But we wouldn’t be the Stockholm Malt & Metal Society if a challenge wasn’t in place. All troops, Man your iPhones! After a number of phone calls, more or less desperate Facebook-status updates and Twittering, we finally got hold of someone who knew someone who knew someone at a company who had a bus rented in Calais who could take us home. IF we could be there in a day. After massive co-ordination we got a driver to take us there, only to find out in the last minute that we still wouldn’t fit on the bus.

Glad to arrive in Edinburgh instead, we checked in at Mercure Point Hotel, which definitely can be filed under ”design hotels” in the phone book, we sat down to plan our escape in the only place we felt secure: the bar. Anders F pondered ”it’s times like these you wish you had Biffen (In Flames tour-manager/problem solver and general swedish legend) with you… hang on!” A phone call later, and Biffen phoned back with the news that Biffy Clyro’s (if you don’t know the band, you listen to far too little progressive scottish metal-based rock) driver was in town and could take us back home. Ten or so phone calls later, everything was set up, and we had a few hours to kill in Edinburgh. Life could be worse.

It could definitely be even worse when the two voyagers turned out to be one spacious Mercedes bus, and we all filed in with a fresh stock of both beers and bus-whisky (Inchgower 14yo, Bowmore, Yamazaki and Auchentoshan among others for the malt-nerds out there). The hotel were friendly enough to first offer us extra nights at more or less half rate, as we were stuck, and then cancelled our bookings with no hassle as we got lucky with the bus. Hearing all the stories of people being ripped off during the weekend, we can only bow down and lift our hats to the friendly, understanding service of the Mercure Point Hotel. If you ever go to Edinburgh, stay there, and tell them we said Hi.

A 42 hour drive from the north of Britain via the channel to France, Belgium, Holland, Germany, Denmark and then Sweden could be a nightmare, but not in the company of the dirty dozen. The band game was introduced (you say a band, and the next person has to name a band that starts with the last letter of the previous mentioned band. Simple but efficient time killer), Lagavulin-Glencairn glasses distributed, whisky poured and beer dished out, and before we could say ”how the fxxk could we miss border shop in Puttgarden?” we arrived in Stockholm on Tuesday morning. Oh, we saw the statue of Michael Jackson that was floated down the Thames standing outside McDonalds in an industrial area in Holland by the way.
Another great trip, and the big challenge now is to think of where to head 2011.

Until then, who’s got the bus-whisky?

Scotland 2009

2010-04-22T10:30:00.000-07:00

Well, we took our whisky club over to Scotland last year, as every year. This is what went down then:

OK, so we’re back in Scotland. The locals are violent, the sheep are duly respectful and the bus is ready to rock. But let’s get the timing right here:

After meeting up at the usual pick-up point, most of us head down to the misplaced creature known to mankind as Skavsta Airport. Though they spent a few million refurbishing the place they still can’t sort out the fact that it is closer to Miami, Florida than Stockholm, and the hamburgers in the restaurant are basically shit. At Skavsta we were joined by newbie Anders Mellström and veteran John Tshilis, who refused the communal experience in favour of an hour more at work and a car trip down instead.

Proceeding to board the plane, most of us had priority booking, meaning we were treated to a VIP que rather than the regular cluster of people. The fact that the VIP section had more people than the others just proves that Ryanair are on to something. The man who happened to be first in line was very upset at John approaching him, and used no soft wording in explaining where in the line he ought to be. As we were let on board, he got the full Ryanair humiliation as he was one of the select few not actually booked as a priority VIP. Gravity always wins, as they say.

The flight itself left little to mention, and we were treated to in-depth analysis from Peter ”El Mannio” Mannio on the full extent of the hard rain waiting for us. Also, Robbe managed to sit quietly through the security instructions, which was a first for him.

At Edinburgh airport we were met by the nothing but glorious sight of Gordon Cook and two 24-size cases of beer for the trip to Pitlochry. Robbe and El Mannio joined us asking ”where did you get your luggage from?”. They entered the Guinness book of world records as ”the first couple to be so heavily engaged in disucussion that they missed the whole luggage-band room”. Congratulations.

Bus picked up, we headed north towards our first destination – Pitlochry and the Beinn Bhracaigh guest house. A quick pit stop along the way allowed us to decorate the bus properly with our newly fabricated magnet-logos, ensuring us that no Scottish town would be entered discreetly. In Pitlochry we found the guest house to be nothing short of magnificent, with a huge bar all operated on the honesty principle, leading to massive sampling of various malt whiskies and local ales.

First stop on Thursday was Blair Athol, the beautiful distillery in the south of Pitlocbry. We had a very nice tour and finished off by pulling out a few cask samples and tasting with the regular 12yo in the shop afterwards. Anders Fridén realised we needed to extend the Blair Athol experience and bought a bottle for the bus, which was consumed backpacker-style on our way northwards to next stop: The Macallan.

Arriving literally on the minute we were booked proved once again the planning skills of the Stockholm Malt & Metal Society go beyond the ordinary. We were then split into two groups and got to do an in-depth tasting under the tutoring of Margret, famous to those of you who own a ten pound note from The Bank of Scotland. (Not the Royal Bank of Scotland or any of the other four note-issuing banks the Scots feel they need, but The Bank of Scotland). See the girl on the note standing next to the stills? That’s Margret.

The tour was extensive, informative and very interesting. There’s not much that beats 15 copper-stills in one room. Well, maybe the sight of a further six in the house next door, but not much else. The hard rain which was forecast didn’t show up, and we were treated to blue skys and a spring-warm afternoon.

Following the visit to Macallan, we spent a small country’s net worth in the shop and headed over to Dufftown for the night. We headed over to Taste of Speyside, where Sandy greeted us with a surprised look, and quickly got the platters in with a suitable amount of beers, whiskies, and in Peo’s case, the green chartreuse for another session of ”Statues of Liberty”. An inhuman amount of whisky was consumed and dissected where the Mortlach 1970 was a high point, and an unnamed malt the low-point, given the tasting note ”bird that has been dead. For a long time.” by Jens.

Leaving Sandy, a group of us headed down to holy ground and visited Mortlach. As they don’t accept visitors, we don’t accept office hours, and a 1:am visit seemed perfectly logical.

Friday started off with a visit to Tamdhu. Not as much the distillery but the maltings, which turned out to be very interesting. Once again we were split in two groups with half of us walking round the maltings, and half having a cup of coffee with Margret. The maltings are a very loud place to be, and there is more hard work than you would expect in delivering the barley in a malted fashion to the distilleries. Some of us were lucky enough to be allowed into the kiln, referring to it as ”a life-changing experience”. The rest of us were duly pissed off.

A nice long drive followed over to Isle of Skye where we arrived slightly less punctually than at the Macallan. The true soul of the Malt & Metal Society had been revealed. At Talisker, we were taken into warehouse no. 1, where a full set of whisky had been set up for an in-depth tasting. Life can be good sometimes. As we finished our tasting, Georgia asked if we had any questions. Peo had one: ”can I have some more of the 57 north?”

We headed up to Portree for our stay, and went for dinner at the Bosville Hotel. Following the dinner, which was nice for those who actually did get what they ordered, and for those (yes Tomas Hegert, we’re thinking of you) who swiftly emptied Jens carefully selected bottle of red wine before the food arrived, we hit the town. In real life this means going to the one place open after midnight, and interacting with the local population. In our case, that meant being asked to go out and fight several times by a drunk Portree-based car mechanic. The offer for a fist fight was repeated until we informed him of Robbes status as just released from prison for assault. The information sunk in, and we were left in peace. At least for the Friday night.

Saturday was what is usually referred to as ”hangover-day”. Everyone was a bit tired and spent a rainy (congratulations El Mannio!) pacing up and down the streets of Portree, singing for Jens on his birthday before hitting the pubs when they re-opened. Some of us decided to take a trip to Uig, where we stopped to watch some other-worldly views of the Sound of Raasay, and encounter the perfect storm. Incredible, and probably a bit more life-changing than any kiln could offer. In Uig, rugby was watched at the local pub over an Isle of Skye ale before the english army off-loaded a force that could invade a medium sized nation in front of us. We saw the signs, and drove back to Portree to be met by the rest of our society in a properly marinated state of mind.

As it turned out, they had been to all of the towns pubs, only to be jeered at and verbally attacked by various other locals. During the evening we got company by an extremely drunk man who varied between buying some of us drinks and pulling a knife on us. Island life is glorious indeed.

So as we left the island on Sunday morning we weren’t really left with a great impression of the local community unfortunately. That such beautiful nature can produce such utter bastards is one of God’s great mysteries, and baffles people still to this day. A nice short six hour drive took us back to Glasgow, with a minor detour through the city centre as our driver (yes, David, we’re thinking of you) ignored the signs to Kilmarnock, despite the big sign saying ”for Prestwick Airport, follow signs to Kilmarnock”.

The flight back was nothing worth mentioning, and even Robbe and El Mannio managed to remember their luggage as we headed out to the bus back to Stockholm.

Once again an amazing trip all in all, and the planning is already in place for Islay 2010, when we head back to welcome our cask 666 to the world of whisky. (by the way, should you wonder – yes, we’ve been to Islay and managed to drink all over the place without being asked to fight or threatened by drunk knife-weilding jerks.)

Kilchoman Inaugural

2009-11-16T14:02:00.000-08:00

Having read a few british and american blogs, I got more and more interested in the Inaugural bottling of Kilchoman.

Now, I've only tried the new-make, and as such haven't had much to go by.
Sure, it's peaty.
Yes, there is some citrus behind the smoke.
Indeed, there is a dark tone of fruit there as well.

But, you can find similar notes in a lot of new make, and the end-results aren't even on the same page of flavours after 10 - 12 years.

So, what's this going to be like?
The fact that the whole world sold out of Kilchoman immediately didn't make matters easier.
However, living in Sweden means we got the release today. 900 bottles of it made it to our shores.

So, at lunch today, I picked up a couple of bottles for tasting and saving.
As always, watch this space.

(OK, I know I've been promising some tasting notes without delivering, but have been up to my chin busy with other more worldly stuff, such as, well, life.)

More whisky my way!

2009-10-28T15:58:00.000-07:00

Ah, now this is looking better and better!
After my absolutely brilliant visit to Midleton, a few different Jamesons and a Redbreast landed at the office the other day.

I must say, though the heavily sherried 18yo is impressive with all it's nutty, chocolatey flavours, I find myself lingering back to the 12yo to get my kicks.
A perfectly balanced dram of bourbon and sherry influence with both the toffee and vanilla from the bourbon mixing gently with the raisiny, fruity notes of the sherry. I've already been on about the eye-opening Jameson experience earlier, but I am liking these more and more.

I am also liking the fact that, yes, I did finally win a bottle of Glen Esk 1971 at Whisky Auction.com. And, not only did I win it, I also payed less than the same bottle that was auctioned in the previous months! I liiiike...

To make matters slightly better yet, I loved the sound of the doorbell in the office when my single cask 1971 Glendronach was delivered from The Whisky Exchange. As whiskies go, this seems to be one of the top bottlings yet.
You'll have to wait for the tatsting notes for that one, as it'll be opened for my fortieth birthday-tasting I'm planning (now, that's taking the whole cliff-hanger-concept one step further, I know!) but, as Carlsberg so brilliantly put it; Worth waiting for.

Over and out.

jealous - moi?

2009-10-22T16:16:00.000-07:00

One of the greatest whisky-collections yet is now on sale after the poor collector turned his toes up before getting a chance to sample them. Willard Folsom lived in California, discovered the virtues of malt whisky at 48, collected for 18 years, and now they're all up for auctioning at Bonhams.

Now, Mr. Folsom - despite being californian - had an impeccable taste in malt whiskies. Have a look at the collection here: http://www.bonhams.com/cgi-bin/public.sh/p...FreeText=folsom and dream on about a few different bottlings of Springbank Local Barley, or why not a few bottles of ultra-rare Kinclaith?
The Ardbeg collection is beyond belief, and I warn you. Clicking on the link will lead you to extreme forms of what we swedes would call "ha-begär".

Google that, friends.
Meanwhile, I'm eyeing a few Glenfarclases...

Sherry Casks Galore

2009-10-20T05:16:00.000-07:00

Considering Cork is the city where Viagra is produced, it might not come as a big surprise that Jameson Whiskey is the other major export from this area. After a full day yesterday with Kevin O'Gorman at the distillery, I had a good chance to try some exceptionally good whiskies.

As with all big brands (ie Glenfiddich, GlenGrant), they are rarely what ticks the boxes for the extreme malt-talibans. Same with the regular Jameson I guess.
But, it takes no more than to go to the 12yo expression to realise that something intersting is going on. Then hit the Gold Reserve which is roughly 10yo but with added casks of virgin oak, and another dimension opens up.
If those two wouldn't convince you to give Jameson a chance, why not try the 18 yo or the exceptional JRVR. Truly fantastic whiskies there.

But nothing could beat the feeling of entering warehouse 26, and opening a sherry butt with Kevin and sampling the 1993-vintage malt on location. Magic, my friends. Pure magic.

And, interestingly, for a plant with the capacity and size of Midleton, I was pleasantly surprised to find that they do more or less everything on site.
No shipping off new-make to some anonymous warehouse, not to be seen again by the distillery's own force until it returns bottled 10 or so years later.
Rather a case of storing whiskey on site, with a small panel nosing and tasting to get all the right casks in place for special bottlings or older issues.

Now, that's the type of distillery I love (specially as the malt-taliban I would consider myself to be...)

Cork, Ireland

2009-10-19T00:52:00.000-07:00

A subject as good as any, as today I find myself in the very same city. Here on a mission to visit Midleton and write a piece for Allt om Whisky; the swedish magazine which is great on all things whisky, provided you know swedish.

Tour, discussion and tasting with the guys there, and guess where you'll be able to read it first.

I am just getting better and better at the whole cliffhanger thing, aren't I.

A night at Akkurat.

2009-10-16T06:43:00.000-07:00

One of the best aspects of meeting with friend and colleague Anders F is the fact that it gives us a legit reason to spend a few hours at Akkurat, Stockholm bar extraordinaire. As Anders is home for a few days before hitting the road again, we wasted no time in finding an excuse for a meeting at the auxilliary office.

If you've never been to Akkurat, there are a few things one doesn't want to miss. They include the mussels, the myriad of beers and the 600 or so malt whiskies in the bar.

Yesterday I can assure you we missed nothing. A few different pints were had (where the Golden Seahawk was a winner), mussels and then of course a couple of whiskies.

First off was a Douglas Laing bottled Pittyvaich from 1993. With a distinct fruitiness, a peat tone that isn't that clear in the Flora & Fauna bottlings and a finish that bordered on exotic fruit, it made for an excellent expression of this semi-lost Dufftown distillery. Anders found the finish a bit woody for his liking, but I wouldn't agree with that too much.

An hour or so later, and I decided to prove my point to Anders on the greatness of japanese malts (if you wonder, read a few earlier posts). The Hibiki 17yo was ordered, by which time we'd been joined by Daniel T and his sister, so we had a good tasting of them.
An interesting mix of new wood and sherry gives the Hibiki (which is a blend, believe it or not) a complex, but intriguing nose and taste.
Like a few japanese malts, there is a hint of polish and wood which is very pleasant...

After the Akkurat sessions, we headed off to see Titiyo at Strand. Not bad at all.
All in all, a good night out and about.

Cliffhanger Bonanza

2009-10-14T07:09:00.000-07:00

The other day, I got a package of samples of four Adelphi bottlings... including the 1974 Bunnahabhain.
Now, THAT's what I call a promising tasting waiting ahead of me.

So, make sure to return and watch this space intensely for the results from that tasting.
How's that for a cliffhanger?

Dan Brown? Amateur.

Wine casks... can we stop now?

2009-10-14T00:45:00.000-07:00

At a very nice party the other night, my good friend, and fellow whisky collector (though he would never admit to it) Robbe brought along a few bottlings of good malt. Now, this is something he often does, and yet another reason to love him even more.
This particular evening, he brought along a Glengoyne Claret Cask among a few others, and while tasting it blind, one could pick out the wine-cask immediately.
Unfortunately, because it tends to produce a nose that is very, shall we say, un-whisky?

Now, this is an aeon-long debate on whether or not to dabble in re-casking, or ace-ing or whatever you want to call it. I can definitely see the fun and experimental side of it all, and the need to take whisky down from the high piedestals some bearded men (for they are always men, and often bearded) put it on.

But the truth is, when we get down to it; it very, very seldomly tastes good.

Just take a glass of whisky, then have a glass of wine straight afterwards.
See?
The flavours just don't mix. Sorry.

Of course there are a few exceptions to the rule. The Glenmorangie Nectar D'or made with ex-Sauternes Casks is very good, but still nowhere near as good as the bourbon-casked or sherry-casked expressions of the same malt.
Interesting? Yes. A great experience? Well, eh, maybe not.

Yes, I know these opinions have been voiced a million times before, and I know it is an inevitable road down which the whisky industry will all go (a bird whispered in my ear that even Glen Grant are moving towards finishing with different expressions).

But... I have yet to find a wine-casked expression that blows my mind. So be it.

Whiskyauction.com

2009-10-06T13:34:00.000-07:00

Got home today just in time to see the courier drop off my package from Whiskyauction.com.
The way I like this website is that I can put my bids in early on for interesting bottles, then just sit back and see which ones I get, and which ones I lose.

Hopefully, I get a couple of really good value bottles, and this month was no exception. A 1976 Douglas Laing Glenugie for 120 euros and a Coopers Choice Glenlivet 1971 for 125 euros was a good catch I think.

Though, I must say, I am a bit disappointed I missed out on the 1971 Benrinnes and the Glenesk, distilled in august 1971 - my month of birth.

Ah well, I'll just have to get right back in there and see what's up there this month.

Mackmyra - single cask

2009-10-04T14:22:00.000-07:00

After a very, and I do mean VERY nice dinner last night, I had the opportunity to try a bottling of Mackmyra - the swedish single malt which has caused a few raised eye-brows around the world. Ask a swede, and they will dismiss the whisky as undrinkable, but yet the whisky sells out immediately whenever it is released, and the line-up outside swedish boozer Systembolaget goes on forever on the mornings of such releases.

Travel to Scotland, and the whisky itself actually receives some very good reviews, but they can't sell a single bottle to anyone not called Svensson. Go figure.

Anyway, be that as it may, I tried a single-cask bottling of Mackmyra - bottled in november 2007, distilled april 2004. Very young then, but surprisingly vital and energetic. A bit like a teenager who is kicking and screaming all over the place, calling for attention. Without water, the punch was way too alcoholic (given it's 55% abv, that's not too surprising) for my pleasure. Add the water, and a whole world of fruity, flowery and pleasant perfumey notes appeared.
Still a vibrant, youthful malt, but with more nuance, this bodes very, very well for the future.

It's only three-year-old swedish single cask bottled single malt, but I like it.

What's up with the japanese?

2009-10-03T05:49:00.000-07:00

Sitting the other evening with a few friends listening to music, and a number of malts are served after dinner. The usual suspects which all are good, steady malts and we all enjoy.

Then there is one that gets everyones attention. One that rises above and surprises us all with a complex taste, depth and balance that is unrivalled among it's competitors.

It's 12 years old, it's a blended whisky and it's japanese.

Hibiki 12yo. Try it and discover why you always will want to taste something from the land of the rising sun from now on.

Funnily enough, we had a tasting a year back or so with only japanese malts, including some really exclusive ones, and the result from that was "ok". Good but far from fantastic. Throw one or two japanese malts in with a bunch of scots however, and they will steal the show. Every time.

This phenomenon was confirmed by Micke Nilsson, whisky-man-extraordinaire at Stockholm bar Akkurat. Anyone got any theories to how and why it is so? Let me know.

AnCnoc AnWinner

2009-09-30T15:01:00.000-07:00

Just heard that AnCnoc won the gold medal for 9-12yo whiskies at the Stockholm Beer and Whisky Festival. Congratulations then - though it is a reasonably good malt, I'm surprised to see it beat other killer malts in that category like Glenfarclas or Talisker.
Looking at the new Glendronach bottlings as well, they ought to be able to put up a good fight as well.

Hakushu! - Bless you.

2009-09-28T12:45:00.000-07:00

Prior to a full Auchentoshan-tasting with Nick "Kiwi" Ravenhall, we sat down and tried a couple of Japanese malts. One stuck out his sore thumb and I had to pick a bottle up at Systembolaget to see if I still thought it was as good afterwards: Hakushu 18.

Meant to be pronounced like a sneeze (only in Japan, friends, only in Japan), the Hakushu 18yo is a - to use Thomas Clydesdales words - proper sledgehammer. Complex with both sherry and bourbon casks hitting the palate; the sweet raisiny fruitiness of the sherry mixing with the vanilla streaks of bourbon. What a massive malt!

Funny that the biggest surprises these days come from the land of the rising sun.
But then again, they did give us the Ninja-films after all.

If you can lay your hands on a bottle, do not hesitate. Make sure to pick one up.

That's the doctors order.

the Whisky Exchange

2009-09-25T03:50:00.000-07:00

Following a meeting that got moved around, I suddenly found myself in London with time to spend and money to burn. Well, at least half-true.
So, what to do?
Obviously, head over to The Whisky Exchange on the south side of the Thames.

Was it worth the journey?

You bet.

If you haven't visited the Whisky Exchange, you have yet to experience heaven on earth.
After an hour and a half in the shop, discussing malts, bottlings and distilleries, I left with a bottle of Glendronach 1971.
It will be part of the big "Keep that 40-years crisis at bay" tasting of '71:s I'm planning for the 40:th. So, you'll all just have to wait for the tasting notes a bit longer... but it looks great!

After that shopping session, my body and mind were literally drained, so I had to head down to the river and grab a pint of Shepherd Neame.
Life is, indeed, good.

London Calling

2009-09-22T17:35:00.000-07:00

And, just as the Clash once crooned, London has indeed been calling me a LOT during the evening. After a nice dinner at Wild Honey (now there's a treat for all you Tiamat-fans out there), Eddie and I headed over to a couple of Soho bars, where we enjoyed a Balvenie (Founders Reserve; good, but nowhere near the double-wood or any of the other expressions), a Talisker (good. as always.) and an Aberlour (remarkably anonymous, given the sherry-bomb character it usually displays. I suspect an old bottle that's been open for too long.)

Sitting in my hotel room now, I can't get the blinds down, so a big part of London can watch me write this before it's bedtime at Tottenham Court Road.

But... do I care? Nope.
In your face, neighbours. The malts and London is too good for being disturbed.

Turning japanese... I really think so

2009-09-21T10:06:00.000-07:00

AH, nothing compares to you. Or, not much at least. Just got back from Systembolaget and got myself a Hakushu (pronounced much like a sneeze, apparently), and it looks great. The little nip I got the other day of this 18yo was very promising indeed.

Watch this space.
Japanese whisky is the new black.

Sherry, more sherry and Glendronach

2009-09-20T10:26:00.000-07:00

A fine day today, and it just became a bit better - the new bottle of Glendronach 18yo (with the virtually impossible subtitle 'allardice') was cracked open to get a sunday night tasting.

And sunday night is looking very good.
If you are a fan of the sherry-casked whisky, which more or less is a criminal offence NOT to be, then you are in for a major treat here.
The nose promises a lot with a wiff of wood, raisins, coffee and, yep, sherry. As it develops it gives you the slightest smoke and a lot more fruit and sweetness. What we in Sweden might at times refer to as skumbanan.
A sip of this proves that the big promises from the nose are to be kept in the mouth. Had Santa Claus existed and been a whisky-distiller, I'm pretty sure this is what his whisky would taste like. Big, warming and very rewarding. Smooth as, eh, smooth stuff, but indeed very, very much so. At 46%, there is a nice punch to the whisky without it becoming overwhelming. (the unpeated Caol Ila at 65% Janne "Death" Groth gave me at the whisky-festival springs to mind).

A nice warm finish that lingers nicely for a looong time rounds this up.
All in all a great whisky from the new owners of Glendronach (if I'm not mistaken, it's the same guys who own peat-monster Benriach).
Worth looking up, and a nice friend to keep you company during the autumn.
If we ever get an autumn here, that is.
But, climate change is another blog alltogether.

The Green, Green Grass of Home

2009-09-20T09:55:00.001-07:00

The other day, the powers that be (or Philipson Söderberg as they are known to most swedes) phoned me, asking for tasting notes for a new line of irish grain whiskey - and, could I write them?

As Jeff Bridges so ultimately put it in the all-time classic "Big Lebowski": The Dude Abides.

Before I had time to say Halvfem (if you don't understand that expression, consult a fellow swede) two bottles of Greenore arrived at my door step. A 6yo and an 8yo.

Now, grain whiskey is the ingredient one usually uses to fill up a blended whiskey with - and then use the malt whiskey to add the taste and flavour. So, you can definitely see that I was slightly concerned that these two wouldn't taste at all.

I was pleasantly surprised to find them a mix of sweet vanillas, the typical irish black-curranty notes and a soft fruitiness. If you find bourbon too harsh on the palate, these two are probably for you to check out.

If you want to see the tasting notes "live", go no further than here.

Oh, if you have problems reading them because it's in swedish, that is because, well, they ARE in swedish.

the second coming

2009-09-19T04:19:00.000-07:00

As with Jesus (and, by all means, The Stone Roses), the big challenge is getting back on your feet.

Two days later, and the Beer & Whisky Festival is still making itself heard.

ah well, it was definitely worth it. However, my initial plan to try the new Glendronach 18yo didn't really take off last night. But, as the ancient saying goes:

"He who waits for tasting notes for Glendronach need never wait too long".

Until then... where's the Alvedon?

Stockholm Beer & Whisky Festival

2009-09-18T16:03:00.000-07:00

Once in a full-moon (or, to be more precise: a year) Stockholm hosts a Beer & Whisky Festival.

This usually creates two things;

1) the opportunity to try a number of absolutely amazing whiskies and beers.

2) a monstrous hangover.

This post is written with a combination of 1 and 2 being experienced massively.

So... what went down at this years festival? Well some of the malts tasted were: (and note "some" being the key word here)

Glenfarclas 21yo

After bumping into Robert Ransom, he poured me this as his favourite expression of Glenfarclas. I wonder if they've changed the mix of casks for this one, since I was picking up a lot more bourbon-vanilla than usual. Not that you'll find me complaining - I like my bourbon casked whiskies.

Talisker 30yo

A quick visit to Janne Groth resulted in a nice old Talisker. Great whisky from one of my favourite distilleries (poured by one of Swedens best whisky-men)

Aberlour Raw Cask (Blackadder)

As much as I wish I had taken notes, I didn't so the exact age of this one is lost in the mists of an evening drenched in whisky. But, this is a cracker of a sherry-aged whisky. Fans of the A'bunadh should check it out. And fans of whisky in general I say. I'll have to drop Thomas @ Clydesdale an email and ask what, exactly, he poured me.

Glenlivet and Linkwood 1959 (Gordon MacPhail)

My favourite swedish whisky writer Hasse Nilsson suggested humbly (after mentioning that, had I only been of the opposite sex, he had a number of unprintable ideas of what he wanted to do with me) that we head over to Thomas at Symposion and try these two. Jesus. Two fifty year old malts with the feel of a 30 yo. Though coloured much the same as, say, Coca-Cola, the whiskies (specially the Linkwood) were vital and complex and amazingly, not over-casked. Notes of coffee, orange marmalade and darker notes appeared. Majestic malts, indeed.

Ardbeg 1976 Single Cask

Håkan Krantz over at Moet Hennessy popped this nice one out to round the evening off, and what a finale... well balanced, not overly peated, fruity and mature - this is one of the best Ardbegs I've tried. A pity that it will cost more than a new Volvo.

Åke from Allt om Whisky took me around to a few of his friends, and the kind folks at Rare Cask poured me a Berry Bros & Rudd bottled 1971 Invergordon Grain Whisky. Wonderfully aged in ex-bourbon, the vanilla notes had given way to more complex fruity and woody overtones. As grain-whiskies go, this is definitely top-notch...

So, nursing the inevitable hangover today, I must say it was a good visit all in all.

Good whiskies, good beers and some good friends (and, not to forget, the new friends met in the bars) sort of sums up why the beer and whisky festival is worth looking forward to next year.

That difficult first post

2009-09-18T15:59:00.000-07:00

Or maybe not THAT difficult. Anyway, a little blog on all things malt whisky (and, occasionally, more than that).

The world is full of good whisky, and quite a few people blog about it. So why start another blog?

Well, why not?

Simple as that.

So - here goes. Hope you've got a good malt close by, so sit back, relax and have a nice read.