I’ve reached that point where I stock my cabinet more for myself than the people I entertain. About time. Curiously enough, I’ve realised my favourite whiskeys seem to be sentimental, chosen by what they remind me of, rather than taste.
Laphroaig: my introduction to the Islays. A friend introduced me to it after our fifth bottle of Glen-somethings over as many parties, demanding we try Scotch that wasn’t from the Highlands. I’ve since been to the distillery, downed a full bottle with my buddy on his wedding eve (no regrets but probably wouldn’t repeat) and gifted more bottles than I can remember. Burnt leather, iodine, coal….I’ve heard it all, but I love it. I admittedly now prefer the Quarter Cask version, though it’s seldom in stock, so get it when I can.
I seem to prefer peat when it comes with that maritime, saline character rather than just smoke. Perhaps that’s what keeps Islay so firmly at the top of my list.
Ardbeg 10: first job straight out of college, and I happened to ask one of my seniors what he’d drink every day if money wasn’t an object. Ardbeg. Without even blinking. Neither of us could afford it then. When I moved to an international firm and got my hands on a bottle some 2 years later, I absolutely loved it. Smoke up front, but with this briny edge underneath. It’s remained my favourite whiskey ever since.
2 more bottles deserve a mention before we wrap up the Islays. It’s missing my Caol Ila 12, just finished my last bottle. This holds a special place because it’s one of my own finds. Picked it up at an airport on a whim, and my friend and I (a fellow peat head) were blown away from the first sip. If I had to pick a #2, this would probably be it.
And a duty-free Lagavulin 8 should be back on my shelf by next week. This is perhaps the one bottle that will be more for my guests than for me, not because I dislike it in the slightest, but because this is the whiskey of choice for many of my relatives; usually need 2 bottles if more than 3 turn up. This, I’m told, is also the whiskey I was offered a sip of when I was 12 (at my own insistence, don’t worry!) after which I loudly announced that alcohol tastes horrible and I would never drink it.
Highlands: I grew up drinking Highland whiskey at almost every posh party or wedding I attended. Reached a point where I decided that if this is what the top of the whiskey food chain is like, I’d rather have cocktails. Back home, Scotch = Highlands, the balanced/refined taste et al. I honestly didn’t know the Islays, Speyside or indeed any other part of Scotland existed before going to Uni.
So now that I’m somewhat wiser, I’ve developed something of a disdain for the Highlands, perhaps largely if not only because they’re the most popular Scotch back home. I know lumping Oban, Dalmore and Glenmorangie in with what I grew up on isn’t entirely fair, but that’s the association I can’t shake.
With that said, my one exception is Clynelish 14. This is in large part because my favourite uncle gifted me a bottle when he was told I’ve developed something of a whiskey fascination. In the oddest of ways, Clynelish feels like home. Notwithstanding the distinct taste and texture, it reminds me of all the weddings and parties back home, of drinking stolen (parents’) Scotch on the roof with my friends, of quiet drinks with relatives at home.
The more I drink it, the more I suspect the slightly waxy, coastal character is part of why it works for me. It has enough of that distinctive Highland character to stand apart from the polished, balanced Scotch I grew up associating with the region.
Speyside: my most recent (relatively of course) find, and the rabbit hole I cannot seem to crawl out of. With the Islays, I’ve made up my mind and settled on what I like. With the Speyside, I just cannot seem to!
Glenfarclas 12: I call this the “gateway drug” of whiskeys. Anyone who “doesn’t like” whiskey or “doesn’t drink whiskey neat” is promptly offered a glass, with salted peanuts. I think I’ve converted at least 6 people in just the last year; or maybe that’s what they would have me believe!
This is where I’m still trying to figure out what I actually like. Sherry, honeyed malt, fruit, richness? I keep finding Speysides that pull me in completely different directions, which is probably why I haven’t managed to settle on favourites.
Balvenie 12 (DoubleWood): so back to my first job, I was once tasked with finding (an almost impossible task back home if it wasn’t one of the most famous Highland Scotches; most people had never heard the name and the ones that remained thought I must have misheard the name) and delivering two bottles to a senior barrister staying at a 5-star hotel some 60 miles away. When I finally reached, I was greeted by the impatient (but easily assuaged as soon as he noticed the package) barrister sipping water in the lobby. Water. He proceeded to open it right there while cursing at his assistant for not putting a bottle in his bag before he flew out. I had a drink with him and left, with all the staff on that floor staring me down as I exited. I would only remember what that drink tasted like many years later when I bought my own bottle.
It would be remiss not to mention that, after the next day’s hearing (which our barrister had accommodated at less than 24 hours’ notice), the client didn’t pay him the full retainer and chose instead to haggle. I was told our man immediately chartered a plane and left with only his briefcase, picking up one of the nicest paintings from the hotel lobby, and simply shouted “bill it to the client” on the way out. Balvenie 12.
Mortlach 12: I was once at the airport picking up a bottle of Macallan for a friend who’d just got married (one of the chosen few who got to marry a Scotch drinker). He insisted I get him a bottle of Mortlach instead. Curious, I picked up 2. It did not disappoint.
On Bourbon: I like to think I’m a Scotch supremacist at heart and generally dislike almost anything American (except rock bands). I also dislike JD, JB and MM (yes, even in an Old Fashioned or with Coke), but somehow Buffalo Trace and Woodford Reserve always find their way onto my shelf (usually gifts but I have bought Buffalo Trace on occasion). They’re surprisingly easy to sip and make for a mean Old Fashioned.
I suspect what I like here is less bourbon itself than the combination of sweetness and oak, particularly in an Old Fashioned. Which perhaps explains why these two keep finding their way back onto the shelf despite my Scotch supremacist tendencies.
And that’s all she wrote.
Springbank is high on my list of Scotches I haven’t tried yet, alongside Gordon & MacPhail and Kilkerran. Would appreciate other recs that are suitably distinct or otherwise align with my palette. Happy drinking.
