I'm Doing Fine with my Whisky and Wine
Nov. 24th, 2005 10:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rhythmaningLast week, we went to a wine tasting at Valvona & Crolla, a wonderfully delicatessen and wine shop in Edinburgh. (If you know New York, think Zabar’s or Balducci’s, only smaller and much more pleasant.) They do several tastings, and I go to quite a few, but my wife could make this one, too, so it was more sociable than normal.
The wines were all from Produttori del Barbaresco, a co-operative in Piemonte; all were nebbiolo, and all were delicious. There was the second wine, Langhe – not labled as Barbaresco since it isn’t aged enough to meet the standards; then the standard Barbaresco; and then a whole string of estate riservas, from a couple years and five different estates.
Like I say, they were all good (they were all expensive!); but although they tasted different, I really couldn’t say why. It was really hard to compare on to another – there were a couple I liked more than the others, some I could have drunk on and on, but why those and not the others? All of the estates were nearby – within twenty kilometres or so – so this was a perfect argument against those who dispute the effect of terroir.
V&C’s were generous with their glasses – my wife drained all her’s dry, and had a soar head on Saturday. (“I was fine until I got up”, she told me.)
But god knows why I liked Pora ahead of the others.
And then a couple of days later, I went to a whisky tasting at the Scottish Malt Whisky Society. (Wine; whisky. I see a pattern developing.) The venue was their fine building in Queen St; during the summer, there are fine views to the evening sky in the north, but with darkness falling round about dawn, it was dark; instead of the evening light, the street lights and chemical flares of Fife could be seen across the Forth.
The aim of the tasting was to focus on the different smells, mainly – taste being largely dependent on smell. There were five different whiskies: a southern, Bladnoch (I smelt toffee apples and cough medicine, and tasted vanilla custard; mmnnn, delicious); Royal Brackla, a Speyside (rubber and tyres, pear drops; tobacco, nail polish and liquorish); a 31-year old Cragganmore, another Speyside, which was just delicious (Evostick, flowers and oranges); a wonderful Bruichladdich (we were over in Islay recently; but that is another story), with seaweed, peat, honey and roses; and lastly, a surprising delicious Cooley – surprising because I don’t like Irish whisky; well, I didn’t, before; but this was really good, a find for the night.
Tasting whisky is an odd game, since – like wine – it is all about the smell. Tasting comes right at the end. Normally, you pour the whisky and neck it down – warmth and flavour mixes into one; and nearly everything tastes good. (It isn’t just me: my wife didn’t like whisky, but early on in our relationship we went to Skye, and we stayed across the road from the Talisker distillery [a few miles away from Talisker burn itself]. She tried to put off my insistence that she give it a try, but she had a sip; and she has only ever tasted one whisky since that she didn’t like; and she has tried quite a few whiskies.) But in a comparative tasting – although ultimately everyone is there because they like whisky, and they want to drink whisky – it is bit more refined: the quality is better than one would normally have in the bar around the corner (however elite the corner may be), and the common interest is in the whisky itself – that is why everyone is there.
There was a lot of good chat – you get a good bunch of people – and like I say, a common interest. And the whisky was good: the only one which didn’t make me think wow! was the Royal Brackla, which seemed a bit ordinary.
The rest were lovely; and I’m doing fine.
The wines were all from Produttori del Barbaresco, a co-operative in Piemonte; all were nebbiolo, and all were delicious. There was the second wine, Langhe – not labled as Barbaresco since it isn’t aged enough to meet the standards; then the standard Barbaresco; and then a whole string of estate riservas, from a couple years and five different estates.
Like I say, they were all good (they were all expensive!); but although they tasted different, I really couldn’t say why. It was really hard to compare on to another – there were a couple I liked more than the others, some I could have drunk on and on, but why those and not the others? All of the estates were nearby – within twenty kilometres or so – so this was a perfect argument against those who dispute the effect of terroir.
V&C’s were generous with their glasses – my wife drained all her’s dry, and had a soar head on Saturday. (“I was fine until I got up”, she told me.)
But god knows why I liked Pora ahead of the others.
And then a couple of days later, I went to a whisky tasting at the Scottish Malt Whisky Society. (Wine; whisky. I see a pattern developing.) The venue was their fine building in Queen St; during the summer, there are fine views to the evening sky in the north, but with darkness falling round about dawn, it was dark; instead of the evening light, the street lights and chemical flares of Fife could be seen across the Forth.
The aim of the tasting was to focus on the different smells, mainly – taste being largely dependent on smell. There were five different whiskies: a southern, Bladnoch (I smelt toffee apples and cough medicine, and tasted vanilla custard; mmnnn, delicious); Royal Brackla, a Speyside (rubber and tyres, pear drops; tobacco, nail polish and liquorish); a 31-year old Cragganmore, another Speyside, which was just delicious (Evostick, flowers and oranges); a wonderful Bruichladdich (we were over in Islay recently; but that is another story), with seaweed, peat, honey and roses; and lastly, a surprising delicious Cooley – surprising because I don’t like Irish whisky; well, I didn’t, before; but this was really good, a find for the night.
Tasting whisky is an odd game, since – like wine – it is all about the smell. Tasting comes right at the end. Normally, you pour the whisky and neck it down – warmth and flavour mixes into one; and nearly everything tastes good. (It isn’t just me: my wife didn’t like whisky, but early on in our relationship we went to Skye, and we stayed across the road from the Talisker distillery [a few miles away from Talisker burn itself]. She tried to put off my insistence that she give it a try, but she had a sip; and she has only ever tasted one whisky since that she didn’t like; and she has tried quite a few whiskies.) But in a comparative tasting – although ultimately everyone is there because they like whisky, and they want to drink whisky – it is bit more refined: the quality is better than one would normally have in the bar around the corner (however elite the corner may be), and the common interest is in the whisky itself – that is why everyone is there.
There was a lot of good chat – you get a good bunch of people – and like I say, a common interest. And the whisky was good: the only one which didn’t make me think wow! was the Royal Brackla, which seemed a bit ordinary.
The rest were lovely; and I’m doing fine.
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no subject
Date: 2005-11-25 08:42 am (UTC)Not sure you're recommending anything by telling me it tastes like Evostick, though.
K and I are mad fans of the V&C prosecco.
Meet me in the john, John, meet me in the john
Date: 2005-11-25 09:07 am (UTC)I hope you enjoy your journey into LJ land - I dipped my toe in earlier this year, and it does make for some enteratining banter. in some ways it's like a pleasant evening spent at the SMWS, but you do have to supply your own malt.
slainte
pretension
Date: 2005-11-25 03:17 pm (UTC)But watch the spelling ("soar").
Re: pretension
Date: 2005-11-28 01:21 pm (UTC)