GlenDronach, a little history before the Taste Off

After twice referencing in April that I was going to do this in May, I am now conducting my GlenDronach Taste Off in August.  I ordered the minis through The Whisky Exchange back in May and they have since been keeping company with other future blog post subjects.  Not anymore, though, as I'm setting them free.

The sherriest bunch of minis

I've been telling folks that I've been looking for a Macallan Killer this year, and I should probably qualify that remark.  I enjoy Macallan considerably.  They do an excellent job with their products and when their whisky is affordable I often recommend it.  But with their well-oiled worldwide distribution machine and luxury marketing team, they are giants.  They have the third largest share of the single malt market (behind the Two Big Glens) and the fourth largest distillery capacity.  And with all of that weight they have taken major shelf space away from smaller whiskys.  Consuming bar and store shelf space equals broadening brand awareness.

Just because they're bigger and have a larger presence in the whisky world, doesn't necessarily mean they're better.  They do have the financial means to get the lion's share of good oloroso casks from Spain.  They do have good stills and great staffers.  This all results in a very good consistent product.  In order to be consistent there's great cask management, but there's also chillfiltering and caramel color (and low ABVs).

And also, I like supporting small(er) businesses.  Aside from my favorite baseball team, I always like to root for the little guy.  Heck, my family is full of little guys.  <--- That's a stature joke.

Anyway, all of these aspects combined have me on the search for other great sherried whiskies.  That search has been a little passive of late with my peated spirit obsession.  But I really would like to find a go-to sherry-cask-matured whisky that isn't Macallan.  Especially since no one knows what's going to become of their upcoming non-age statement bottlings.

So I'd like to give GlenDronach a try.  As I write this, I haven't started the Taste Off; in fact I've never even tried their whisky.  But in every whisky corner, they've been getting raves.  So let's take a look at their goodies this week.  (And perhaps this Autumn, we'll snoop around other sherried whisky brands.)

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In 1826, the Glendronach Distillery Company was founded in Aberdeenshire by a group of investors headed by James Allardice.  A decade later, most of the distillery was destroyed in a fire.  With the help of executives from Teaninich Distillery and Glenfiddich, the distillery was rebuilt and production restarted.  Walter Scott of Teaninich owned the distillery until 1887, after which ownership bounced around a few times:

1887 - 1920 - A consortium from Leitth
1920 - 1960 - Charles Grant of the Glenfiddich Grants
1960 - 1976 - William Teacher & Sons (known for their blends)
1976 - 2005 - Allied Breweries (later Allied Domecq)
2005 - 2008 - Chivas Brothers (Pernod Ricard)
2008 - current - BenRiach Distillery Company

(Source)

The distillery underwent a number of changes over those 120+ years.  Under Teacher's ownership they doubled their stills from two to four, thus doubling their potential output.  They did their own floor malting up until the distillery was mothballed in 1996.  Upon reopening in 2002, they began buying their malt (now unpeated).  They were one of the last three distilleries to heat their stills via coal firing, but when Pernod temporarily closed the distillery in 2005 the heating system was switch to steam.  Pernod soon reopened the distillery and produced whisky for a short while before selling it all to Billy Walker of BenRiach Distillery.

Walker and company capitalized the 'D' in the name and relaunched the entire range in 2009.  With a healthier wood-management budget, the distillery's new bottlings were now unchillfiltered, caramel additive free, and with higher ABVs.  GlenDronach has had massive success with their single cask releases (some of the most critically acclaimed whisky in the world), and also tinker around with special wood finishes every year or so.

GlenDronach's capacity is 1.4 million liters, though they're up to 1.1 million right now (1/8th the size of Macallan's production).  Half of that booze goes to Pernod Ricard's blends.

But I'm interested in the stuff that's going into their single malts.  So stay tuned for the 12 year "Original", 15 year "Revival", and 18 year "Allardice" this week!

Please the bottom half of my Whisky Notes page for sources.

A concrete hike

The other morning I was out of sorts from the moment I woke up.  A number of negative circumstances had gotten the better of me.  I realized quickly that the usual trip to the fitness club would not help me straighten out my mind.

So I decided to go for a walk.  A long walk.

Using the fun walkjogrun site, I mapped out an extended voyage.  I wanted straight lines that I could follow without a map or a GPS.  I decided on walking to the tip of Seal Beach Pier and back.  Approximately 10.18 miles.

The wild card that hovered above the walk was the weather.  It was 90-95 degrees that day.

In 90+ degree weather, ice maintains its molecular structure better than I.  I sweat more than anyone else I know.  I don't tan, I crisp.  I dehydrate easily.  I have epic bouts of heat stroke (which occasionally include hallucinations).

Sounded like the perfect opportunity to test some of my boundaries.  So I applied sunscreen and strapped on a backpack with water, dry snacks, my cell phone, and a notebook.  And I walked.

It was nice to cross many miles of Long Beach that I'd never seen before.  Lots of parks, unique houses, and waterfront.  It was remarkably quiet everywhere, except inside my head.  But I didn't want to think, I wanted my head to be clear.  I hadn't eaten much that day, so I thought that maybe between the heat, the exertion, and the lack of sugar/calories I would be able to access an empty zone of consciousness.  But instead, the hamster in the creaky wheel inside my head was given a dose of amphetamines.  And on he charged.

Physically, the first 5 miles were pretty easy.  Seal Beach's Main Street was really nice.   By my count there were three Irish pubs, two pizza places, a Greek food stop, an Italian deli, a barbecue joint, a wine bar, a diner, two bakeries, 320 Main, and two antique shops.  All in three blocks.  It was a nice mid-point.  The pier was relatively clear.

I stopped for a snack, some water, and a look around.  The waves were roaring in nicely.  Lots of tanned skin and bikinis.  Some creepy black seagulls.  And lots of fishing poles.

And that's when I felt the blister on my left food and the throbbing ache in my right knee.  Jesus, I'm getting old.  Concrete is unforgiving on the muscles, tendons, joints, and bones.

Early on the walk back, I tried to take a shortcut, but wound up being rerouted backwards.  That added another third of a mile to my trip.  I figured that was some sort of metaphor.

Focusing on the road in front of me and really getting inside of the pain developing in my right knee, emptied me out.  The last two miles were silent, everywhere.  The exhaustion felt right.  It wasn't like struggling at the gym, because there one's just running in place.  There's no "F**k it, I'm done," here.  I needed to get home.

I may have alarmed some ladies walking their dogs.  Here, I was bearded (and not neatly so), stanky, in scuffed up clothes, and a little wobbly on my sticks.  Had I seen me, I probably would have gone out of my way to avoid me.

When I got home to the air conditioning, I stripped off my shoes and socks, and listened to my wife tell me about her day.  Okay, I didn't listen (sorry).  I watched her talk and thought about how much I loved her.  Her crazy-ass unemployed husband just went for a day-long journey by foot to some random place and came back limping and weird.  And she didn't even skip a beat.  It was just another day living with MK.

All those things that troubled me weren't gone, but they were sorted through, alphabetized, and filed in the right place.  There was less fission, but more Friday.

I didn't get sunburned.  (I assume) I hydrated appropriately.  My knee needed 48 hours before it was willing to do its job without complaint.  Though the pain made my body feel older, my brain felt younger.

I'm not sure why I'm posting this.  I have no pictures to prove this happened.  I have no sarcastic rejoinders.  It was just something I did.  And something I'll do again.

Some more ramblings on a Friday

Goodness.  After this week's Reports, I think it's high time for me to bring some single malt action back to the site.  So, next week I'll be reporting on a much anticipated single malt Taste-Off.  By "much anticipated" I'm referring to my own whisky longings.

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Last night I popped into a local bar (The Reno Room) to size up Buffalo Trace and Bushmills Original.  I'd ordered BT once a few months ago while in Palm Springs, but received something that was definitely not BT.  So this time I was able to watch the bartender pour the bourbon from the bottle into my glass.  I tried it.  I liked it.  Sadly, Bushmills Original (which REALLY paled in comparison to the Buffalo Trace) remains the one Irish Whiskey that I do not enjoy.  I believe there's good malt hiding in there, but the bland grains push it down.  I try it every year or two just to double check and each time my feelings are confirmed.  At least its palate is consistent.

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The Whisky Advocate posted its top 10 whiskies of the Fall.  Upon reading the list, I felt the usual mixed feelings bubble up.  All the whiskies look delicious but none are affordable for the average consumer.  It reminded me what an expensive pleasure whisky has become.

A Malt Maniac, harmonic resonance, and The Corry.  Blend them, vat them, pour them and you'll get the new Coopered Tot post.  It's grand!

I also enjoyed Scotch and Ice Cream's post about his celebrating his son's first birthday with a fine bottle of whisky.  Feelings both personal and universal run through the review.

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Finally, here's my tweet from this morning:

In my dream last night, Woody Harrelson, Iggy Pop, Robert DeNiro and I prepped smoked pork shoulder at the beach on a cloudy morning.
— Michael Kravitz (@kravitz_hubris) August 17, 2012

As in most dreams, the action was never completed as we kept getting sidetracked by distractions.  Actually, that sounds a lot like the waking life.

Happy Friday!

NOT Single Malt Report: Canadian Club 6 year Blended Whisky (plastic-bottled in 2004, Ancient!)

After searching long and far, spelunking through the oldest caves, digging through the most ancient of ruins, sparing no expense, I've finally unearthed this great artifact from the history of distillation:

I postulated that this whisky, bottled in the year two-thousand-and-four (in the common era) by a company that no longer exists, must hold the secrets of the past or at least some leaching from its magical "unbreakable" bottle.

And it came at a burdensome financial investment.

Brand: Canadian Club

Distillery: Hiram Walker & Sons Distillery
Ownership: was Allied Domecq (now Beam Global)
Type: Canadian Blended Whisky
Region: Windsor, Ontario, Canada

Age: minimum 6 years

Alcohol by Volume: 40%
Bottled: (est.) March 1, 2004
Bottle code: 54 SL 24 LE 061 DW 15:08

How ancient is this bottle?  When it was being filled...

Justin Bieber was 10.  ADORBZ!
There was no Shake Weight.
The Red Sox still hadn't won a World Series in 85 years.
Aaron, Ruth, and Mays were still the top three career Home Run hitters.
No one had been properly Rickrolled.  Yet.
Glen Beck had yet to go on television.
Michael Phelps had zero Olympic Medals.
The cat hadn't yet asked if he could haz cheezburger.
The CIA had just admitted that there was no WMD threat from Iraq before the American invasion.
Janet Jackson had just accidentally purposely showed a pastie- (not pastry-) covered breast on live TV.
Lost in Translation had just NOT won Best Picture at the Academy Awards.
Johns Kerry and Edwards were still battling it out for the Democratic Party's presidential nominee.
Not many people outside of Illinois had heard of one Barack Obama.
Facebook was limited to Harvard University students.
The Passion of the Christ had just opened nationwide.
Friends and Frasier hadn't ended.
Kristen Perry was living in Spain and hadn't yet moved in with me.
I was young.

So this bottle is OLD.  Like before Rihanna and memory and stuff.

It was released by Allied Domecq Ltd before Pernod Ricard took over the company in 2005 and sold C.C. to Fortune Brands (which then spun off Beam Inc as its own corporation).

Canadian Club's origins can be traced back to 1858, when Hiram Walker of Detroit opened a distillery in Windsor, Canada.  He'd started making whisky in the US a few years earlier, but the Temperance movement was gaining steam in Michigan so he moved his business across the water.  He called the resulting product Club Whisky.  American whiskey companies got the law involved to force Walker to put "Canada" on the label on the theory that it would slow Club Whisky's popularity.  That backfired.  Seeing the boost in sales that resulted from the "Canada" on the label, Walker changed the name of the whisky to Canadian Club.  In the early 1960s Don Draper made it a permanent addition to his office's liquor cart and the rest is history.  Sorta.

With the weight of human history and American-Canadian relations on my shoulders, I opened the black screw-top.  The plastic angels had already walked off with some of the beverage over the last 8+ years, as the liquid level was below the bottle's neck.  Down to its collarbone.

My hands shook with excitement as I poured myself an ounce-and-a-half of history.  I took fifteen minutes to embrace this singular opportunity.  Then I began my nosing and tasting.

NEAT
At first in the glass, the whisky's color forms a strata of urine at the bottom and apple juice at the top.  After fifteen minutes it evens out to amber.  The nose is a fist full of vanilla followed by oak and mild grains.  There's more alcohol burn than one usually gets from a 40% ABV booze.  After time, there are hints of apricots and (much less subtly) white vinegar.  It's with the palate that things start to go askew.  It starts with bitter sugar cookies and imitation vanilla extract, goes to sour ladyfingers and then more bitterness, ultimately drying out the tongue.  It finishes with an oaky vanilla, bland sugar, but mostly a wallop of sourness and bitterness that lingers inconveniently like dog sh*t on a shoe.

WITH WATER (approx. 33.3% ABV)
Oof.  It may bring out brighter sugars in the nose, but the mouth gets so much bitterer.

The Malt Maniacs sometimes talk about the OBE (Old Bottle Effect) on whisky.  But I think they're just referring to glass bottles.  May I introduce OPBE (Old Polyethylene Bottle Effect)?

This whisky tasted almost nothing like any Canadian Club I've had.  I actually don't mind CC6 usually; I used to use it a bit for highballs.  The awful (and slightly worrying) sour and bitter notes are unique to this bottle.  Aside from those vaguely noxious notes, this CC6 was blander and flatter than the usual bottling.

A rousing success!  Anyone want to trade for a 2oz sample of this?!

Availability - This ancient bottling? My shady corner liquor store.

Pricing - Current (750mL) bottling goes for $12-$15

Rating - 59

NOT Single Malt Report: Taste Off! Maker's Mark vs. Four Roses Single Barrel

Quote of the day: "Tell me this doesn't smell like farty maple syrup!"

* * * * *

I just sighed deeply as I began this Report.  I'm still such a bourbon novice and this writeup may not do anything to strengthen anyone's opinion of my American whiskey knowledge.

But let's do it!

Here are the players:

Distillery: Four Roses
Ownership: Kirin
Type: Kentucky Straight Bourbon (Single Barrel)
Region: Lawrenceberg, Kentucky

Age: over 7 years, probably 8 to 12 years
Mashbill: 60% corn, 35% rye, and 5% malted barley (source)

Maturation: charred white oak barrels

Alcohol by Volume: 50%

and

Distillery: Maker's Mark
Ownership: Beam Global
Type: Kentucky Straight Wheated Bourbon
Region: Loretto, Kentucky

Age: minimum 2 years, likely 6 to 8 years
Mashbill: 70% corn, 16% soft red winter wheat, and 14% malted barley (source)

Maturation: charred white oak barrels

Alcohol by Volume: 45%

The Maker's Mark is from a 375mL bottle.  The Four Roses Single Barrel is from a 50mL mini I found at Hi Time Wine Cellars.  The bottles themselves are great.  Maker's has its distinctive shape and the dipped wax phallus at the top.  And the Four Roses had the heaviest sturdiest glass mini bottle I've ever bought (and I've bought a few).

The biggest difference (to me) between these two are the mashbills.  Maker's Mark uses wheat instead of rye in their mix and is heavily corn-ed.  Four Roses Single Barrel also has a bit of corn (51% is the minimum allowed for bourbons) but has a large balance of rye in there as well.  A second difference is that the Four Roses is, per the label, from one barrel while the Maker's is from a combination of a large number of barrels.

I really had no idea what to expect.  I'd never tried any Four Roses product previously, though I've been reading many raves about them.  I had bought the Maker's to perfect my citrusy boubon old fashioned recipe, but hadn't spent much time with it neat.  So, I thought trying them side by side would be a good way to sort out the nuances.

Just before I did the taste off, I read The Coopered Tot's six-part blind Canadian rye tasting.  It inspired me to do my mini taster blind as well.

As if trying to figure out two bourbons wasn't enough for me, I was about to set myself up for the embarrassment of not being about to tell these two very different bourbons apart.  Awesome!

But I did it anyway.  Kristen did the one ounce pours and labeled the glasses A and B.

After allowing the whiskies a 15-minute adjustment period, I dug in.  Here are my results:

Bourbon A
Color - Reddish copper
Nose - Black cherry syrup, milk chocolate, cocoa powder, the inside of the oak barrel, Cool Whip
Palate - Old school Robotussin, treacle, maple syrup, a little hot, a little aspartame
Finish - Long and warm, whipped cream, but more of that sticky aspartame thing

Comments - It's a little busy but enjoyable, though I could do without the aspartame notes.  After the first couple of sips I said aloud, "Oh no, I think I like Maker's Mark."  That means I kinda liked this bourbon and I guessed it was Maker's.

Bourbon B
Color - Clove honey
Nose - French oak-type pencil shavings, sweet oranges, cherry lolipops, gassy, maple syrup, frosting
Palate - Pencils, root vegetables, very sweet at first then mellows out, vanilla, sugar cookies, but ultimately very tame
Finish - A good length, more ethyl, floral and vanilla, marshmallows

Comments - Mild and tame, the sweetness would work better than A for mixing.  I thought that the mellowness meant that it was Four Roses.  So that was my guess.

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Well, first thing's first.  My guesses were wrong.

A = Four Roses Single Barrel
B = Maker's Mark

I hadn't looked up the Four Roses mashbill beforehand.  Had I done so, I would have seen the good dose of rye.  My brain should have recognized the black cherry, cough syrup, and cocoa notes as the rye elements I like.  I knew Maker's had no rye.  I based my guesses on the mellowness of 'B' and the aspartame notes in 'A'.  So my guesses were silly.

Secondly, blindly tasted, I liked the Four Roses better.  (Do I get to keep any of my street cred?)  It was a little hectic, not necessarily messy but active.  The diet coke artificial sweetener note was odd though. It kept showing up with every sip.  Without that, it would have challenged Blanton's for my favorite bourbon.

Maker's is still quite the sweetie.  I don't mind having it around as a mixer.  Though I don't foresee myself jonesing for a glass neat nor on the rocks, it's still better than most cheap scotch blends.

Kristen seemed to prefer the Four Roses a little more too.  But neither swayed her opinion of bourbon in general.

After the taste off was done, I blended the last 0.5oz of Four Roses with 0.5oz of Maker's Mark (creating a fake mashbill of 65% corn, 17.5% rye, 9.5% malted barley, 8% red winter wheat).

It was wrong.  It was so bad that I rushed the glass over to Kristen, exclaiming, "Tell me this doesn't smell like farty maple syrup!"  For some reason she refused to smell it.

I buried that bad blend underneath an Old Fashioned and was much happier with that result.

The bourbon journey continues.

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Maker's Mark

Availability - Everywhere

Pricing - $19 to $24

Rating - 77

Four Roses Single Barrel

Availability - Some US liquor specialists

Pricing - $40 to $45

Rating - 82

Some ramblings on a Monday afternoon

It's a quiet blog day for me.  I'm working on employment stuff as well as tomorrow's Taste Off report.

In the meantime, I recommend...

The Coopered Tot posted the results of his gigantic 6-part blind Canadian Rye tasting, along with some thorough analysis.  It's so good that it inspired me to amend part of yesterday's Taste Off.  More on my much smaller non-rye Taste Off tomorrow.

The Scotch & Ice Cream blog posted an intensive write up on three Canadian Ryes last week.  Jefferson's 10 year Rye is looking better every day.

If you're a sherry fan, Chemistry of the Cocktail did a write-up on three deeee-licious looking sherry & rye cocktail recipes.

Looks like everything is turning up rye!

On the Scotch front, if you have 15 minutes and a drink at hand, Malt Maniac Ralfy just posted a video about Kilchoman (one of my favorite distilleries) and young crafted whiskies in general.

And look at that black-shirted drinker on the left of the photo below:

Thanks to Shawn Bishop Photography and their the wide-angle lens, I look considerably more buff than I deserve to.  Anyway, that's a pic from the LA Scotch Club's Peetin' Meetin'.  And I'm reaching for the indie Ardmore, my fave of the evening.

That's all, see you tomorrow for some bourbon.

NOT Single Malt Report: Wild Turkey Rye 101

For the 101st whisk(e)y?

Wild Turkey Rye 101, of course.

Distillery: Wild Turkey (their website has no info on rye)
Ownership: Campari Group (via Austin, Nichols, & Co.)
Type: Straight Rye
Region: Lawrenceburg, Kentucky

Age: minimum 2 years
Mashbill: 65% rye, 23% corn, 12% barley

Maturation: "charred white oak barrels"

Alcohol by Volume: 50.5%

In 1869, the Ripy family started a distillery on Wild Turkey Hill in Lawrenceburg, Kentucky.  The distillery blossomed despite grain shortages, the Prohibition shutdown, and the federal enforcement of bourbon standards.  The brand, Wild Turkey itself, had been the product of large batch bourbon purchases from other distilleries.  But in 1972, the Ripy family's distillery was acquired to become The Wild Turkey Distillery.  In 1980 the company was sold to Pernod Ricard.  Then in 2009 Campari purchased the brand.

Now, let me clarify something.  Wild Turkey 101 Rye has NOT entirely vanished.  Reports of its death have been somewhat exaggerated.  It's still out there to be found (at least three local stores have started carrying it again), but it is considerably less prevalent.  As folks have mentioned (here, here, here, and here) there's a rye shortage in the US right now.  If the Lawrenceburg distillery is getting less grain, then they'll stretch it out (water it down) and bottle more of the 81 proof version.  And sell it at the same exact price.  So it goes.

Soonafter getting a few recommendations on for WT101, I read all of the rye shortage news and got caught up in the panic.  Suddenly, no one was selling this rye around here.  When I found a bottle in Palm Springs a few months ago, I thought I'd discovered a great secret whiskey source.  Well, it was a good catch and the price was right, but it was no miracle.

So it's tough to find, but it's still around, especially if you live in or near a major American urban area.

With that out of the way, I have to say, I've never met a rye I didn't like.  Something about straight rye's nose and palate, with its spice cabinet and floral cherry cough syrup highlights, always appeals to me.

There are few $20 bottles of Scotch whisky that can compete with the complexity and spice of a $20 bottle of American rye.  Do we have import tariffs to thank for this?  Or the raw power of the rye distillate?  Probably both.

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NEAT:
The color is of a red-orange molasses.  Always looks nice in a glass.  The nose starts with candied oranges, buttery oak, and barrel char.  Then there's a dry vegetal note that joins up with a whiff of hay.  A dusty cocoa and mild ground black pepper linger in the background.  Cherries in syrup and cherry cough syrup lead the way in the palate.  Pungent fruit sugars and anise liqueur follow.  It's always sweet and spicy, getting sweeter the longer it sits in the glass.  It finishes with the cherry cough syrup, anise liqueur, and juicy sweetness.  Though it's surprisingly brief for its ABV.

It works well in a Sazerac (use real absinthe please!).  It's not bad in a Manhattan.  The dusty cocoa and barrel char elements should work well with some barbecue -- I'll try that this summer.

It stacks up pretty close to the Bulleit and Baby Saz straight ryes.  I won't declare a winner here since I've tried them in completely different circumstances.  I'll just have to drink some more rye, for empirical purposes, of course.

Availability - You'll need to do some Turkey hunting

Pricing - Excellent at $18-$21 (there are folks selling it for $30, shame on them)

Rating - 84