Tis the Season

Oh what a wonderful time of year it is. Yes, without a doubt, December is a magical month. Oh sure, there's the ho ho ho and mistletoe and goodwill towards all, but what I'm talking about is the beginning of citrus season here in good ole Florida. And with citrus season comes fresh grapefruit which is the gateway to an absolute deluge of delightful cocktails. 

 

A few years ago, I mused about one such cocktail, still a personal favorite, the Hemingway Daiquiri. To open this year's grapefruit season, we are heading into the realm of tiki and mixing up an absolute classic - Donn Beach's Navy Grog. First featured in 1941 at Donn's legendary Hollywood tiki bar Don the Beachcomber, Navy Grog has since become a staple in tiki culture. Thanks to the sensational investigative and archival work of Jeff 'Beachbum' Berry, we have a pretty good idea of Donn's original recipe and can enjoy at home. 

 

The drink's signature garnish, a cone of crushed ice with the drinking straw running through the middle, is omitted here as I do not have an easy way to produce such a garnish. Regardless, it's the rum that soothes the holiday commotion, so I would not sweat the crushed ice cone too much. As for the rums, the silver rum should be a good quality neutral rum. The Beachbum calls for a Cuban or Puerto Rican rum, but here I am using a sugarcane-based rum from Haiti. The drink's funk will come from both the Demerara and the Jamaican rums. Note in the photo below I am using an overproof Demerara rum, but I do proof the rum down to ~50% ABV before using in the cocktail. The honey syrup is easily made - equal parts water and honey heated and stirred in a saucepan until the honey is fully dissolved in the water.

Ingredients

• 3/4 ounce fresh lime juice
• 3/4 ounce fresh grapefruit juice
• 3/4 ounce sparkling water
• 1 ounce aged Demerara rum
• 1 ounce aged Jamaican rum
• 1 ounce unaged neutral rum
• 1 ounce honey syrup
  

Composition

Place all ingredients into a cocktail shaker, add ice, plop the top on and shake it like you mean it. Strain into a glass filled with fresh ice.

Mahalo everyone!

Sibling Rivalry Part Deux!

Appleton Estate Rum, 8-Year, 12-Year, and 15-Year Old
Classification: Jamaica Rum
Country: Jamaica
Region: Nassau Valley (St. Elizabeth: 18.166N, -77.728W)
Mash Bill: Fermented Molasses
Strength: 43% ABV (86° Proof)
Color: Unknown (most likely artificial color)
Filtration: Unknown
Maturation: 8 Years, 12 years, and 15 years respectively in ex-bourbon American oak
Price: 8-Year: $27.99, 12-Year: $34.99, 15-Year: $65.99

Tl;dr summary - Three rums, each one progressively older than its predecessor. Kudos to the folks at Appleton - the progression from youngest to oldest is very much in keeping with expectations. As the age increases, so too do the vanilla, oak, and roasty-toasty notes while simultaneously the fruit notes diminish. The 8-year is the most spirit-forward whereas the 15-year is the most oak-forward. It’s the 12-year that remains the sweet-spot to my tastes, a great balance between age and fruit.

Well, well, well, what have we here? Inspired by Thanksgiving Week Vacation Cocktail numero uno, I realized it was long overdue to spotlight rum on my little slice of the Interwebz. Despite being featured in numerous cocktail recipes here, rum has never starred on the big stage of an impressions writeup. In fact, this is the first impression entry featuring a spirit other than whiskey. Considering this milestone, let’s go for the gusto and make it a trio of rums, all hailing from the same distillery, Jamaica’s Appleton Estate.

The rum world is a fascinating place. Unlike major whiskey varieties like scotch, bourbon, or Irish whiskey, there is no uniform set of regulations governing the production of rum. While I will not attempt to iterate through the global spiderweb of rum regulations in this post, I will tell you that rum purchases generally require far more consumer due diligence to decipher and deduce what exactly is in that bottle of rum you are purchasing. There are two especially nefarious practices to be aware of in the rum world - misleading (or outright bogus) age statements and whether additives such as sugar or flavorings are added to the rum after distillation. Sadly, many rum producers are legally allowed to place misleading age statements as well as add additional sugar and/or flavorings to their rum without disclosing as such on their label. Thankfully Appleton Estate does the honorable thing here and does not covertly add any additional sugar or flavorings to their rums and the age statements found on their respective labels is the age of the youngest rum in the bottle.

As hinted in the King of Barbados entry, Jamaican rums are renowned for their ‘funk’ and while the ins and outs of ‘funk’ in rums is beyond the scope of this post, the executive summary is that funk in a Jamaican rum tends to be aromas (and tastes) of overripe fruits, particularly banana. Also know that funk in rums is not the exclusive purview of Jamaica, many rum producing nations across the globe produce ‘funky’ rums. Still, it is the rums from Jamaica that are most recognized as funky, perhaps due to the immense exposure they receive from their inclusion in many of the legendary cocktails emanating from tiki culture. One final funk note - while Appleton Estate certainly brings some funk, it must be stated that on the scale of funkadelic, Appleton is on the lighter side. Other Jamaican distilleries such as Hampden Estate or Worthy Park bring the Parliament-Funkadelic to the bottle and are definitely worth seeking out and sampling if Appleton floats your boat.

Appleton has offered a 12-year version for as long as I can remember and it has been a staple on our shelf since I first discovered it. The 12-year is on the very short list of rums that I recommend without hesitation to anyone that asks. It can be enjoyed neat, over ice, or as a mixer. Appleton 8-year is a ‘new’ item in their lineup, having been discontinued a number of years ago, but brought back in the summer of 2021. Along with the 8-year, the 15-year made its debut in Appleton’s lineup in 2021 and serves as a fitting layover point between the 12-year and their ultra-aged 21-year old offering.

All of Appleton Estate’s rum begins life as fermented molasses. To distill all that fermented molasses, Appleton employs both column stills as well as double-retort pot stills. While column stills are familiar to most whiskey enthusiasts as they are used the world over to produce a wide variety of distilled spirits, it's the double-retort pot still that brings a bit of razzmatazz to the party. Essentially an ingenious innovation stringing together multiple pot stills to allow simultaneous double and even triple distillation, double-retort pot stills were born from a desire to improve efficiency, but now serve as a vehicle to deliver a ester-rich ethanol prized by many Caribbean-based rum producers. If interested, a deeper dive into the anatomy and chemistry of the double-retort can be found here. Once distilled, Appleton uses ex-bourbon barrels (allegedly ex-Jack Daniel’s barrels) for the bulk of their aging duties with all aging occurring in the year-round heat of Jamaica. The journey to the bottle is completed when Appleton’s blenders select both column distilled and the double-retort pot distilled rums to be blended together and proofed to produce the final product. And speaking of final product, let's get to tasting three of them:

Appleton 8-Year

Nose: Molasses, brown sugar, gentle funk, orange zest, banana

Taste: Gentle alcohol bite, medium sweetness, fruit/banana sweetness, gentle chili and baking spice

Finish: Moderate ethanol, short length, gentle oak, brown sugar, banana, molasses

Overall: If one made a pie chart detailing the characteristics of this rum, the largest slice would be ethanol (youthful spirit), then brown sugar, then fruit. The Jamaica funk is not as pronounced as I’d like and I personally get more brown sugar notes in the taste but more molasses notes in the finish. An excellent mixing rum, but not a sipping rum for me.

Appleton 12-Year

Nose: Ripe Banana, funk, chocolate, orange, cinnamon, vanilla

Taste: Mild alcohol bite, medium-low sweetness (less sweet than the 8-year), orange, bitter orange, cinnamon, nutmeg

Finish: Medium-short in length, cinnamon and nutmeg, molasses, the slightest wisp of oak

Overall: The fruit and funk are several notches higher when compared to the 8-year. The molasses remains hidden until the finish where it just starts to peek through the blanket of fruit and spice. There is oak, but it is ever so gentle. A true jack of all trades, this rum is enjoyable neat or mixed.

Appleton 15-Year

Nose: A surprising punch of ethanol, more than the 12-year but less than the 8-year. Almost zero funk and very faint fruit. Roasted nuts, coffee, and oak char. Molasses is more pronounced on the nose than the 8-year and 12-year.

Taste: Vanilla syrup, molasses, oak char. Moderately sweet initially then progresses to a drying finish with light tannins

Finish: Oak, molasses, medium length. Given its lofty age statement, my expectation is for a much longer finish, but what is there is enjoyable

Overall: The oak is the most pronounced element of this rum, leading to a drying finish. Unlike the 8-year and 12-year, the molasses is most noticeable in the 15-year particularly in the finish. What is surprising and disappointing to me is the diminished amount of fruit and funk in this rum. While this is a sipping rum through and through, it certainly could be used in cocktails but that feels overly extravagant at this price-point. For my rum-purchasing dollars, the 15-year will be a one-and-done purchase as it does not rival the 12-year to my tastes. 

Final Verdict

The Appleton 8-year is an honorable entry in the lineup. Its current price, flirting with $30, while a notch high, is partially justified by a legitimate age-statement and a 3% bump in ABV over virtually all of its competitors. The rum certainly tastes youthful, more youthful than its stated 8-years, but this too can be interpreted as a positive as the rum mixes beautifully. There is no doubt this is a molasses based rum with a gentle Jamaican funk, it's a straightforward rum, so long as you do not have sipping aspirations for it. Things get a bit more interesting when it comes to the 12 and 15-year entries. 

I purchased the 15-year almost five months ago and since that day, I've debated labeling it as disappointing. Ultimately, I shall not do so as the connotation of that word is disproportionately harsh to the rum sitting in that bottle. While the 15-year is not a disappointing rum, it is an outmatched rum, specifically by its three year younger brother. Sampling these three rums simultaneously highlighted precisely what I desire from an Appleton rum - first and foremost I want fruit, then funk, then molasses, and lastly oak influence. Across the 7-year age difference between these three rums, as they get older, the spirit-influence decreases, the fruit-influence decreases, and the oak influence increases. Oddly, as far as the funk goes, it's strongest in the 12-year, then the 8-year, and weakest in the 15-year. Like the fruit influence, I would have expected the funk to diminish proportionally with age, but alas, that is not the case to my tastes. Perhaps the funk prevalence in the 12-year is an intentional artifact of the blender's intentions. I can only speculate on that, but ultimately, that is precisely why I adore the 12-year, it is a brilliant balance between fruit, funk, and age.

Stay funky my friends, until next time.

A hard day at the office...

Thanksgiving Vacation Cocktails - Round Three

Ohh la la, espresso martinis. I don't know how cocktail geeks feel about espresso martinis. My gut tells me that some of the 'cool kids' in the cocktail world might sneer at the thought of an espresso martini as it seems like it was overplayed back in the day like the Cosmo or Appletini. Regardless, one of the cocktail-centric YouTube channels I enjoy espoused their love for the drink and having never personally enjoyed one, my interest was piqued.

The recipe featured on YouTube calls for a specific coffee liqueur, Mr. Black coffee liqueur, which will not come as too much of a surprise if you spend time perusing cocktail-centric channels on YouTube. Mr. Black exploded in popularity in the United States right around 2019 and it seemed like it was the de facto coffee component for any cocktail recipe found on the Web that required such a flavor. The new hotness of Mr. Black plays beautifully into this week's side-by-side cocktail theme as there is another coffee liqueur in the world, and not just any old liqueur, but a titan, the fabled Kahlua. How does the new kid stack up to the OG? What better way to find out...

Ingredients

• 1.5 ounces vodka
• 1 ounce espresso
• 2/3 ounce coffee liqueur (Mr. Black for one, Kahlua Especial for the other)
• 1/3 ounce vanilla syrup (I cheated here and added real vanilla extract to taste to a simple syrup)

Composition

Add all ingredients to a cocktail shaker, add ice, shake it like you mean it, double-strain and serve.

Results

Before discussing the drinks, it is insightful to discuss how Mr. Black and Kahlua compare to each other. Kahlua is rum-based with coffee and vanilla added. Mr. Black is vodka-based that coffee is cold brewed/steeped in. The Kahlua is significantly sweeter than the Mr. Black when sipped neat. Kahlua tastes precisely like a coffee and vanilla syrup. Mr. Black on the other hand reminds me of an imperial stout - roasty, toasty, and not inherently sweet, but also not bitter.

The differences between the two coffee liqueurs absolutely carryover into the cocktails. The Mr. Black-based martini is not overly sweet, in fact I'd say its sweetness is neutral and perhaps just a whisker bitter. The Kahlua version is significantly sweeter, but not in a cloying way. The espresso notes dominate both drinks and truth be told, the vodka is completely invisible. Neither taste as though they have any alcohol in them at all which is quite remarkable (and potentially dangerous).

As for our personal preference, we are split down the middle on this one. Matic opted for the Mr. Black version and I opted for the Kahlua version. It's fitting that I tend to sweeten my coffee and espresso whereas my better half does not to the same degree. Therein lies the litmus one can use to determine which version to serve - for folks that take their espresso au naturel, the Mr. Black version is the way to roll. For those that want a touch more sweetness, it's the OG Kahlua that will carry the day.

One final note - both versions, while delicious, did not strike either of us as a mid-day or early-evening type of cocktail. Coffee for us tends to be a early morning or occasional post-dinner beverage. As such, these cocktails felt more appropriate as an after dinner libation, but your mileage may vary depending on how you enjoy espresso and coffee in your day to day life.

Thanksgiving Vacation Cocktails - Round Two

As promised, for round two of Thanksgiving Week Vacation Cocktails we are going old school. First appearing in cocktail recipe books in the 1920s, the Sidecar most likely was first mixed and enjoyed a tad earlier, somewhere in the World War 1 era. With over one hundred years under its belt and spawning countless variants in its wake, you would be correct in declaring the Sidecar a classic vintage cocktail. But in a twist reminiscent of Darth proclaiming his paternal bond to Luke in the bowels of Bespin's Cloud City, there is another. Hailing from New Orleans and making its first appearance in the mid-1850s, the Brandy Crusta is considered by many to be the inspiration and father of the Sidecar.

Unlike the King of Barbados where the drink recipes were identical save the rum used in each, the Sidecar and Brandy Crusta do differ by a significant degree, but the foundation remains quite similar - Cognac, orange liqueur, and lemon juice. 

Let's start with the Sidecar, a drink whose proportions are identical to a basic Daisy or Daiquiri - two ounces spirit, one ounce sweetener, three-quarters of an ounce of bitter:

The Sidecar
Ingredients

• 2 ounces Cognac or brandy
• 1 ounce Cointreau
• 0.75 ounces fresh lemon juice

Composition

Place all ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice, shake well, strain and serve.

The Brandy Crusta has a bit more going on and it should be noted that the recipe below is a modern interpretation of the original. By the mid-1900s, the Brandy Crusta had fallen out of fashion and all but disappeared from the cocktail scene just as the Sidecar's popularity really began to surge. Fast forward to the early 2000s and New Orleans bartender Chris Hannah resurrected the classic with subtle tweaks to accommodate modern preferences. 

Brandy Crusta

Ingredients

• 1.75 ounces Cognac or brandy
• 0.5 ounces orange Curacao (dry)
• 0.25 ounces Luxardo liqueur
• 0.75 ounces fresh lemon juice
• 2 dashes Angostura bitters

Composition

The Brandy Crusta was named for the sugar-crusted rim of the glass in which it is served, it's only fitting that the namesake tradition be honored. Meanwhile, place all ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice, shake well, strain and serve.

Father Crusta on the left, son Car on the right

Results

Out of the gate, let me say that both cocktails are entirely deserving of their stellar reputations. Each is wholly delicious and worthy of the effort required. The wine-soaked oak of the Cognac is perfectly complimented by the yin and yang of the sweet orange and bitter lemon. The Brandy Crusta builds upon this flawless foundation and the addition of Luxardo maraschino liqueur and Angostura bitters raise the drink without cluttering it. I realize it is a cop-out to say both are delicious and refuse to pick a side, but that is precisely where my better half and I fell in regard to these two libations. True, the Brandy Crusta has a bit more going on flavor wise but labeling it as 'better' felt like a bridge too far for us. We are going to call this comparison a draw - make one of each, sit back, sip, and contemplate life for a bit.

Thanksgiving Vacation Cocktails - Round One

Ahhh welcome to Thanksgiving week. A week spent celebrating my favorite holiday and a week generally filled with indulgences of many forms. While my much better half and I are no strangers to exploring new and exciting libations, Thanksgiving week gives us a chance to sample old time favorites as well as new and exciting concoctions that we've not gotten around to yet.

To kick off Thanksgiving week, we're rolling with a new kid on the block that we'll be mixing for the first time. As I've stated numerous times in regard to whiskey, there is no better tasting experiment than to sample two closely related items side-by-side. In a stroke of inspiration, we decided to apply this notion to today's cocktail - making two versions identical in every regard save the rum used. The original recipe called for a lightly aged Barbados rum. For the alternate version, we opted to use a staple in tiki cocktail culture - a moderately aged Jamaican rum. 

First up, the recipe. Known as the 'King of Barbados', this libation is a riff on a rum punch, with a French twist of Calvados as well as a nod to the tiki gods with the inclusion of both a honey syrup and allspice dram.

Ingredients

• 2 ounces aged rum (we used a Barbados rum in one version, a Jamaican rum in the other)
• 0.5 ounces Calvados (or apple brandy)
• 0.75 ounces fresh lemon juice
• 0.75 ounces honey syrup (equal parts honey and water, heated and stirred until fully incorporated)
• 0.25 ounces allspice dram

Composition

Place all ingredients in a cocktail shaker with ice, shake well, strain and serve

Results

The two rums used in our variants of this cocktail are Mount Gay's entry-level rum - Eclipse and Appleton Estate's 8-year rum. A fair criticism of this setup is the fact that Appleton's 8-year is far more aged than Mount Gay's Eclipse, approximately four times as much as Mount Gay claims their Eclipse rum is aged for two years. This will certainly impact the final result, and it's not just extra age the Appleton brings to the drink, but also that legendary 'Jamaica Funk'. Perhaps a better comparison would be to use Appleton's entry-level offering, their Signature Blend, but alas, we'll have to leave that for another day.

As for the drinks themselves, the allspice dram packs a remarkable punch despite being the smallest component of the drink. The Calvados is a fairly healthy component of the drink, but I can't say it is all that detectable in the final drink, though I am sure if omitted, it's absence would be noticed. To our tastes, the rum, allspice dram, and lemon juice are the stars of this drink. 

Both cocktails take on a orange-clove vibe which perfectly compliments the current Fall season. As for the different rums, the Mount Gay Eclipse version is straightforward and wildly drinkable. It would be easy to consume one, then two, then six of the Mount Gay version. The Appleton version is unsurprisingly a tad more complex, there are more flavors delivered when sipped alongside the Mount Gay version mostly thanks to the 'funk' and 3% extra ABV of the Appleton. 

Personally, if I were mixing this drink for family and friends, I'd almost always opt for the Mount Gay version as it is a fantastic riff of an easy-going, easy to enjoy rum punch. If however I had a friend that loved traditional tiki cocktails or Jamaican rum, then the Appleton would be the appropriate rum.

For the next round of vacation cocktails, we'll be traveling back in time to visit one of the old school's classic offerings. Until then, cheers my friends.

Sibling Rivalry

Two siblings, each born in neighboring distilleries separated by a mere half mile and sharing wildly similar production characteristics. So just how similar (or dissimilar) are these two malts? Had I not cynically ignored each malt’s packaging, I would have had a basic, but accurate, answer to that very question long before any whisky was poured. Sadly, all too often a whisky’s packaging can easily be dismissed as the descriptors and verbiage are more fluff than substance. In retrospect however, the packaging for both the Balvenie and the Glenfiddich provided ample foreshadowing of what was to come.

The Balvenie’s mission is to use ex-bourbon and new American oak barrels to enhance the sweetness and fruit characteristics of their whisky. Conversely, the Glenfiddich aims to pay tribute to the bourbon industry and all those beautiful barrels it supplies to Scotland for use in the maturation of scotch whisky. One aims to utilize American oak, both used and new, to accentuate and celebrate their distillate’s inherent character. The other aims to utilize the same variety of American oak to influence and infuse characteristics of bourbon into their whisky to honor the wholly symbiotic relationship between two of the world’s most prominent whisky styles.

Had I paid closer attention to these details, I would have had a pretty good idea what was in store for me - the Balvenie would be a Balvenie malt with barley sweetness, citrus, and a bit of ginger front and center and the American oak influence in the background as a supporting actor. Alternately, the Glenfiddich would yield more of its Speyside character to the American oak, allowing for more bourbon notes like brown sugar, vanilla, and cinnamon to appear and mingle.

After spending a significant amount of time with both bottles (both are now empty!), I can affirm that to my palate, each product has successfully accomplished its stated goal. Don’t misunderstand however, both of these are scotches through and through. If you were to pour either for a bourbon lover, that person would not mistake either for a bourbon. While each remains true to its respective underlying spirit, the influence of American oak is different between the two - the Balvenie focuses on the oak itself whereas the Glenfiddich focuses on the bourbon-influence.

In terms of the drinking experience, I found the Glenfiddich to be more enjoyable. The Glenfiddich’s brown sugar, vanilla, and caramel notes were more to my liking than the Balvenie’s focus on oak influence which brought sawdust, lumber yard, and toasted oak characteristics. Again, truth in advertising as the Balvenie’s name ‘The Sweet Toast of American Oak’ makes no mystery of the malt’s intentions.

While both whiskies are 43% ABV, I found the Glenfiddich to have less tongue-prickle and alcohol sting that I associate with younger spirits. Not shocking when you consider the Glenfiddich does have two extra years of maturation than the Balvenie. Because neither whisky states whether artificial coloring was added or if chill-filtration was used, it is a safe assumption that both were indeed utilized.

Packaging and price are two areas where the separation between these two whiskies is indeed notable. The Glenfiddich is priced in the low $50 range whereas the Balvenie is in the low-to-mid $70 range. A twenty-ish dollar premium for a younger whisky is indeed curious which leads me to the packaging. While both come bottled in their respective distillery’s signature bottle and packaged nicely in standard cardboard tubes, it is the Balvenie that is draped in a smooth, slick, shiny marketing campaign. Introduced a few years ago, ‘Balvenie Stories’ details the inspiration, craftsmanship, and effort that goes into specific offerings from the distillery. One of those ‘stories’, complete with its own ‘podcast’ episode, is The Sweet Toast of American Oak. Just one look at each whisky’s respective webpage drives home the suspicion that the Balvenie absolutely received the lion’s share of the marketing budget William Grant & Sons allocated for the two products.

Does the polished marketing campaign for The Sweet Toast of American Oak constitute the ~$20 price difference? Partially yes, but I suspect there is another factor in play. Traditionally, the marketing of Balvenie has been its perception as an upscale, boutique whisky producer. Of course a key component of being perceived as an upscale, boutique product is flaunting a large asking price; a wild aspect of professional consumerism is that a lofty price often becomes a key contributor to an item’s appeal and an affirmation of its pedigree.

Even with its lofty pedestal in the whisky world in mind, I’ve always found The Sweet Toast of American Oak’s pricing to be too steep for a different reason. For just a few dollars more one can procure Balvenie’s 12-Year Single Barrel which has far more compelling production characteristics: first-fill ex-bourbon, non-chill filtered, and bottled at 47.8% ABV. These are the qualities of a whisky that can justifiably command a fiscal premium - quality production and maturation as well as far more transparency regarding the whisky, but I digress.

Getting back to the two malts at hand, despite the marketing glitz and glamor, it is the Glenfiddich that takes the prize for me. Even if these two malts were priced similarly, I’d take the Glenfiddich over the Balvenie. While numerical scores assigned to whisky impressions have always struck me as arbitrary, what feels far more indicative of one’s enjoyment is whether another bottle of said whisky will be secured in the future. To that end, a shiny new bottle of the Glenfiddich appeared on my shelf a few days after finishing the bottle featured in this writeup. As for the Balvenie, they make plenty of other malts that I thoroughly enjoy (12-Year Single Barrel, 15-Year Single Barrel, and their annual Peat Week) but for me, The Sweet Toast of American Oak was an above-average malt with a disproportionately high asking price, it is a one-and-done purchase for me.

Archived reviews of each respective malt:

Balvenie Sweet Toast of American Oak: https://aqua-lunas.blogspot.com/2019/09/a-new-balvenie.html  
Glenfiddich Bourbon Barrel Reserve 14 Year Old: https://aqua-lunas.blogspot.com/2021/08/a-thank-you-from-scotland-to-united.html 

Until next time malt mates.

A Thank You from Scotland to the United States

Glenfiddich Bourbon Barrel Reserve 14 Year Old
Classification: Single Malt Scotch Whisky
Country: Scotland
Region: Speyside (Dufftown: 57.454N, -3.129W)
Mash Bill: 100% Malted Barley
Strength: 43% ABV (86° Proof)
Color: Unknown
Filtration: Unknown
Maturation: 14 years in ex-Bourbon and finished for an unknown duration in new charred American oak
Price: $51.99 (Released exclusively in the United States of America)

Tl;dr summary - Consistently enjoyable pour after pour, this is a malt that exceeded my expectations from the get-go. While hallmark bourbon notes are found throughout the experience, there is never any doubt as to this whisky’s malted barley foundation. A zero-hesitation purchase at its current retail price that genuinely has a decent amount of headroom before I’d feel even the slightest bit of pause in carrying a bottle to the checkout lane.

As I mentioned previously, thus far in 2021 I have not consumed all that much whisky. My alcohol indulgences have primarily centered on non-distilled variations, particularly wine. This trend, combined with my preference to not consume varying alcohol variants within a small window of time has resulted in me enjoying a glass of water rather than a glass of whisky when I normally would do so. That being said, my whisky consumption has not been zero which brings me to this surprising bottle from the fine folks at Glenfiddich.

Truth be told, this bottle of Glenfiddich’s 14-year sat in my whisky stash for almost two years before I finally ‘rediscovered’ it thanks in part to one of my pandemic-inspired cleaning and organizing sessions. Upon rediscovery and reading the bottle’s packaging, a jolt of familiarity shot through the old noggin: this Glenfiddich had very similar attributes to a Balvenie I posted about back in 2019. 

On paper, these malts are staggeringly comparable to each other - both bottled at 43%, both spending their age-stated number of years in ex-bourbon casks then finished for a number of weeks in a brand new charred American oak barrel. Those new barrels that both Glenfiddich and Balvenie use coincidentally come from the same producer - the Kelvin Cooperage in Louisville, Kentucky. Lastly and most curiously, both whiskies are produced at distilleries that are not only next-door neighbors, but also siblings as they are owned and operated by the same parent company - William Grant & Sons.

Just a wee stroll down the road

While Glenfiddich and Balvenie are indeed neighbors, it’s Balvenie that is the little brother of the family, at least in regard to output. Featuring 11 stills producing ~5.5 million litres of whisky per year, Balvenie is certainly a respectably sized distillery, but it’s Glenfiddich and its 32 stills gushing out ~13 million litres of annual output that lands that distillery in the gargantuan category, easily overshadowing its brother just to the north. Unsurprisingly, given its immense output, Glenfiddich is consistently the #1 single malt scotch producer in terms of worldwide annual sales. Don’t fret for poor ole Balvenie though, in terms of brand prestige and market perception, it’s Balvenie that is considered the posh sibling in this relationship, with it’s releases typically commanding a handsome premium over those from Glenfiddich. 

What I find particularly bemusing though is how it came to be that William Grant & Sons greenlit a very similar whisky concept/release from each of their distilleries. I wonder what the motivation was? Beyond that, the burning question obviously is how Balvenie’s 12-year Sweet Toast of American Oak compares to Glenfiddich’s 14-year Bourbon Barrel Reserve. Is there enough differentiation to justify the separate offerings? Despite being two years younger, the Balvenie costs ~$25 more than the Glenfiddich, is the Balvenie luxury tax warranted or does the bigger brother provide both better value and enjoyment? All valid questions my friends, but the answers will have to wait for the following post. For now, this post is focused on my impressions of the Glenfiddich.

Nose

Barley sugar, vanilla, toasted sugar. A bit of ethanol punch. Sweet. Fresh orange with some time in the glass. Whispers of clove and nutmeg also appear fashionably late to the smelling party.

Taste

Gentle alcohol prickle, nothing too harsh. Brown sugar, vanilla, pleasant sweetness, gentle oak spice. Soft mouth feel. Sips perfectly well just as it pours from the bottle, I do not see the need to add water here. There are no harsh edges to this malt, the alcohol and oak are well controlled, present but not biting.

Finish

Medium length and beginning to flirt with a long finish. Oak, brown sugar sweetness, cinnamon replaces the clove and nutmeg.

Overall

To be honest, I entered into this pour with low expectations. I was anticipating a gimmicky mass produced offering from a gigantic whisky producer. Something that while not offensive was also not memorable. Whoo boy, how wrong I was. Granted, I doubt this malt will be making many major ‘top-10’ type lists, but at its price point, Glenfiddich has in my opinion over-delivered with its 14-year Bourbon Barrel Reserve. The bourbon influence is unmistakable, but the whisky always stays true to its malted barley origins, you never forget you are drinking a Scottish Single Malt. There is zero oak astringency and zero tannic-drying yet all the positive attributes of oak influence are retained - barrel char, baking spices, vanilla, brown sugar. I would be interested to pour a sample of this for someone who prefers bourbon to scotch. I doubt this malt will inspire them into flipping their preference, but I do think they would enjoy this whisky more than they expected going in.

When it comes to whisky reviews, I much prefer to read about impressions and tasting notes rather than numerical scores. Assigning a specific number to a whisky as an assessment always seems woefully arbitrary and a bit silly to me. There is however one criteria that I think speaks loudly to the quality and satisfaction that a whisky delivers - would you purchase a second bottle? To that question, my reply for Glenfiddich’s 14-year Bourbon Barrel Reserve is a resounding yes. This is a Single Malt that does not wreak havoc on your wallet, delivers a quality experience from beginning to end, and, if you are shopping in the United States, is readily available on retail shelves wherever Scotch whisky is sold.

Coming up next, we’ll see how Glenfiddich’s fancy-pants little brother stacks up and who knows what surprise guests will show up to the tasting party!

Paradise in a Glass

A thousand apologies to all, it has been some time since the last whiskey post. Truth be told, I have not consumed all that much whiskey thus far in 2021, but fear not, while the whiskey consumption has been reduced, it has not been eradicated. There are two entries in the hopper, both centered around an offering from Glenfiddich that will be posted soon. In the meantime, since we are in the dog days of summer, here's a tropical concoction that I have had the great fortune to enjoy throughout the majority of my adult life, including, thanks to my family, often in the region from which it originates.

Hailing from Miss Emily's Blue Bee Bar in the settlement of New Plymouth on Green Turtle Cay in the Abaco Islands of the Bahamas, the Goombay Smash has rightfully earned a spot in tropical cocktail lore and fame. I once heard a sentiment credited to Ernest Hemingway that those in colder climates drink to punish themselves, hence their drinks are whiskey, vermouth, and gin based, whereas those in warmer climates drink to pleasure themselves and as such their drinks are rum, juice, and fruit based. While I am not 100% sure that sentiment did indeed emanate from Mr. Hemingway, I am certain that from the first sip of a Goombay Smash, one truly does experience a complete and satisfying pleasure. 

One fun tidbit - New Plymouth was a settlement for those colonists in America that remained loyal to the Crown and wanted no part of that Revolution (i.e. Insurrection) of the late 1700s. The settlement of New Plymouth has some incredible history and is well worth a visit if you happen to be in the Abacos. 

Now on to the drink. While the official recipe is still a closely guarded family secret, below is what most accept as very close to the real deal. Coconut rum, 'dirty' rum (almost certainly an aged Jamaican rum), and apricot liqueur serve as the drink's enforcers. Pinneapple juice, orange juice, lime juice and a 'secret' ingredient which in Caribbean based concoctions almost always translates to Angostura bitters from Trinidad and Tobago serve as the drink's ambassadors. As always, the quality of the cocktail is proportional to the quality of the ingredients used in its composition, so try to use quality rums and fresh-squeezed juices where possible. In my neck of the woods, oranges and limes are easy to come by, but I opt for canned pineapple juice that is 100% pineapple juice and not from concentrate.

Ingredients

• 1 ounce coconut rum
• 1 ounce aged Jamaican rum (Appleton 8-year or 12-year works great here)
• 0.5 ounces apricot liqueur/brandy
• 1.5 ounces pineapple juice
• 1.0 ounce orange juice
• 0.5 - 0.75 ounces lime juice
• 2-4 dashes Angostura bitters (Note: I use a combination of Angostura and Bittermens Tiki bitters here)

Composition

Place all ingredients in a cocktail mixer, stir, and taste. Adjust to personal preferences - if too sweet, add more lime juice and/or bitters. If too bitter, add more orange/pineapple juices and/or coconut rum. Once satisfied, add ice to the shaker, plop the top on and shake well.

Strain into a tall glass filled with fresh ice and prepare yourself for a tropical departure from reality. Fair warning: like most tropical libations, the Goombay Smash is deceptively easy to consume and as such, there is a real risk of mass consumption occurring before one feels the effects of the drink's enforcers. Be careful my fellow adventurers! 

Cheers to all. See you soon with a trip to Speyside, where the latitudes are large and the hooch is less tropical, but no less enjoyable.

One Final Nod to Ireland for the Month

As March's conclusion nears, I wanted to share a concoction recipe that has pleasantly surprised my much-better-half and I this month. Published in a ABC Fine Wine & Spirits promotional email, the libation caught my eye because of its use of cucumber. Though I am not a huge gin or vodka guy, I do very much enjoy a cucumber gimlet and was intrigued to see if cucumber would also work well with Irish whiskey (spoiler alert - it does!).

A few notes from the trenches after making a fair amount of this cocktail: if your cocktail shaker can accommodate the volume, this recipe can easily be doubled which helps cut down on the muddling labor. The strainer found on a typical cocktail shaker is useless for straining the drink after shaking due to the cucumber pulp, so pop the top off and use a fine-mesh strainer instead. This drink as published uses three-quarters of an ounce of simple syrup which is over the edge of sweetness to my tastes. I've reduced to a half-ounce below, however your personal tart/sweet mileage may vary, adjust accordingly. The elderflower liqueur is essential here as it contributes a tremendous flavor to the finished drink.

Ingredients

1/2 inch chunk of cucumber, cut into smaller chunks

1/2 ounce simple syrup

3/4 ounce lemon juice

1/2 ounce St. Germain (elderflower liqueur)

2 ounces Irish Whiskey

Composition

In a cocktail shaker, drop the chunked-up cucumber and simple syrup. Grab a muddler and pound the cucumber into a mushy paste. Add all remaining ingredients, stir and taste. Adjust to your preferences - if too sweet, add more lemon juice, if too tart, add more syrup. Once satisfied, add ice to the shaker, plop the top on and shake mightily. Remove the top of the shaker and strain into your preferred glass using a fine-mesh strainer.

Cheers to March and hello April.

The Prestige - Redbreast 21-Year

Redbreast 21 Year
Classification: Single Pot Still Irish Whiskey
Country: Ireland
Region: County Cork (Midleton: 51.913°N 8.170°W)
Mash Bill: 100% Barley (malted and un-malted barley)
Strength: 46.0% ABV (92.0° Proof)
Color: Unknown (rumored to be natural color)
Filtration: Unknown (rumored to be non-chill filtered)
Maturation: 21 years in unknown proportion of ex-bourbon and ex-sherry casks
Price: $269.99 ($299 regularly) (Total Wine)

tl;dr summary - a prestigious whiskey destined to be a special occasion sipper. A dazzling display of tropical fruit is without question the hallmark of this offering. An excellent whiskey, but not all is perfect in paradise. The alluring nose, exotic taste, and sufficient finish equate to an experience that when taken as a whole do not, for me, justify its lofty retail price.

Twenty one year old Redbreast was absolutely an aspirational bottle of whiskey for me. A very good piece of advice for whiskey enthusiasts that is sometimes forgotten is to figure out what type and style of whiskey you like before dropping the big bucks on specific bottles. It seems like common sense, but you’d be surprised at how many expensive bottles are purchased for no reason other than FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) or simply succumbing to powerful marketing and/or peer pressures. For me, my long-standing budgetary limit of $120/bottle, derived from the asking price of Highland Park’s 18-year offering, remained in place for well over a decade. Redbreast 21 was the first crack in my spending resolve.

Retailing for $299, but reduced to $269 courtesy of an in-store discount, it was at the time the most expensive bottle of whiskey I’d purchased. This was not an easy purchase for me to make. Indeed, I spent well over a year and half lusting after this bottle, proudly lingering in a locked display case, before committing to purchase. Leading up to the purchase was well over two years of consistent, dare I say dazzled enjoyment of Redbreast’s cask strength 12-year version. When one has such an enjoyable courtship, it is only natural to wonder what euphoria would emanate from a more serious commitment.

It is a funny thing having a spendy bottle of hooch on one’s shelf, at least it was for me. Deeming the moment not special enough, I procrastinated for months on opening my bottle of Redbreast 21. This is of course a fairly odd prospect - why procure a special bottle of whiskey only to have it sit on the shelf for posterity because no suitably proportional moment arises in which to indulge and enjoy. Eventually, I decided the night of my birthday was as good a time as any and so, three-ish months ago, I finally opened my bottle of Redbreast 21.

Tasting notes below collected over the course of four separate pours spaced out over the past three months.

Smell
Oak, red berry, raspberry, strawberry, vanilla, green grass, cream soda. With time, the bourbon influence is stronger than the sherry influence. The ethanol edge is a notch more pronounced than I’d prefer.

Taste
The taste begins with a rush of oak and spice followed by an absolute tidal wave of tropical fruits, specifically mango and papaya and then red grapes and ripe peaches. Towards the tail end of the sip, the mango and papaya remain, but the oak and spice return. The ethanol punch is strong, but never crosses into hot or prickly. The unmalted barley influence is less pronounced than in the 12-year. Be careful with added water, I found this whiskey will indeed take a small amount of water, but is easily washed out. For me, no more than half a teaspoon for a two ounce pour.

Finish
The mango and papaya continue from the taste, but linger in the backseat while the oak and spice are firmly in the driver’s seat. Eventually the oak and spice diminish leaving the tropical fruits and a pleasant tongue prickle from the ethanol. Gentle tannins. I’d classify the finish as medium in length, flirting with long, but never quite achieving the marathon distance I wish it would.

This is the rare instance when comparing two whiskeys side by side in a blind taste-test would not be all that helpful. The massive tropical fruit notes of the 21-year would instantly dissolve the uncertainty as to which was which. Because of this, comparing the 12-year to the 21-year is a bit misleading - these are two related, but vastly different whiskeys. Like comparing the Beatles to the Rolling Stones. Whereas the 21-year’s signature is the tropical fruit, the 12-year focuses on oak, spice, green grass, and stone fruits like plums and apricots. The 12-year to me is far more indicative of an Irish whiskey - the unmalted barley influence in the mash is much more pronounced to me in the 12-year than the 21-year. Further, the 12-year has a vibrancy, a brightness, and a depth of flavor that is every measure of the 21-year old, perhaps even greater, particularly in the finish, though that could be due to the 12-year’s higher bottling proof (cask strength version that is).

Recently, I learned in an interview with Redbreast Master Blender Dave McCabe that the folks at Midleton Distillery actually produce three variations of their single pot still distillate - ‘light’, ‘medium’, and ‘heavy’. Sadly, Mr. McCabe did not disclose much detail as to what differentiates each variation, but did say that while all versions of Redbreast contain the ‘light’ and ‘medium’ distillate, the 21-year consists of all three, and it’s the ‘heavy’ version that helps contribute the tropical fruit notes found in the 21-year.

Without question the mango and papaya I encountered in the 21-year was the most enjoyable aspect of the experience. On the whole though, I am left feeling a bit conflicted by Redbreast 21. This is indeed very good whiskey, unique whiskey, but I do not personally find the experience proportional to the asking price. For me, Redbreast 21’s biggest problem is that I can purchase three bottles of Redbreast 12-year Cask Strength for less cash than a single bottle of the 21. Delving into the metaphysical, I suspect, for me at least, the frugality of the 12-year also serves as subconscious permission to enjoy a pour of whiskey on a whim, devoid of pressure to apply pomp and circumstance. When pouring the heralded, and expensive 21-year, I felt an air of formality and seriousness; a sense that one cannot just casually pour and enjoy such a whiskey - there has to be a greater reason than ‘just because ’. Beyond the psychological hangup, I do keep returning to the same sentiment that I simply enjoy the 12-year a notch more than I enjoy the 21-year. We’ll see if that trend continues as I’m sure to keep that bottle of 21-year tucked away to be revisited from time to time.

Redbreast 15-year - An Unexpected Twist

Where does the time go, here we are in mid-March and this will be the first post of the year. Truth be told, I had intended, and still plan to post one final favorite pour of 2020 to sit alongside Woodford Reserve and Jack Daniel’s Single Barrel Barrel Proof, but my creative desire to do so was sapped back in January. For now, I have a lineup of seasonally appropriate posts that seem better suited to this time of year. Doubtlessly you are seeing plenty of Irish Whiskey advertisements right about now as we are in the week of Saint Patrick’s Day. It’s no secret that I am a huge fan of one particular Irish Whiskey - Redbreast’s 12-year Cask Strength, but rather than celebrate a favorite, I am going to lament a Redbreast that fell a bit short for me. 

Redbreast 15-year seemed like a no-brainer - three years older than my beloved 12-year, 46% ABV, and an enticing selection of maturation barrels. Compliments of several interviews with Midleton Distillery staff that I’ve read and listened to, I learned Redbreast 15-year, like it’s 12-year counterpart is matured in first-fill ex-bourbon and ex-sherry casks, but the 15-year also contains whiskey aged in refill bourbon and sherry casks. If you spend any amount of time reading reviews of Redbreast 15-year, you’ll quickly discover that it is wildly well regarded. Nary a bad review can be found in an ocean of praise which leads me to the plot-twist of this post - my experience has been pretty far from enjoyable.

Below are Redbreast’s official tasting notes for their 15-year bottling:

Nose

Full and rich with a complex yet balanced mix of berry fruits and aromatic oils.

Taste 

Fully round and mellow with the succulence of fleshy fruit combined with spices and toasted wood.

Finish

Long and sophisticated 

Upon opening my bottle for the first time, there was immediate trouble: wafting up from the glass was the unmistakable smell of match heads. Sulfur! There are a handful of sulfur variations one can experience. Anyone who grew up in Florida doubtlessly knows the rotten-egg version of sulfur courtesy of irrigation systems that use well water. There is also a vegetal brussels sprouts/cabbage variant of sulfur, but neither the egg nor cabbage version was present in the Redbreast. For me, the sulfur I was smelling was squarely of the match head kind and it was entirely off putting to me.

Being a freshly opened bottle, I desperately hoped leaving my pour open to the air for an extended period of time would help diffuse the unwanted sulfur influence, but alas no luck. Depressingly, not only did the sulfur influence carry over to the taste from the smell, but it was amplified significantly on the tongue. The sulfur dominated the tasting experience for me, but lurking in the darkest reaches of each sip were hallmark Redbreast attributes - fruit and oak. The problem was the dominance of the sulfur; in a totally unscientific ratio, the sulfur was 75% of the taste leaving the remaining 25% to the fruit and oak.

Adding water did help reduce the sulfur impression, but doing so frustratingly also reduced the vibrancy of the fruit notes. Further exasperating the situation, what normally would be welcomed, a pleasantly long finish, was anything but as the sulfur continued in the mouth long after the sip. Disgruntled, I decided on a drastic measure: transfer ~1/3 of the bottle’s contents to an empty bottle and leave the remaining 2/3’s of the bottle stored away for a few months in the hope that an extended slumber with air would help dissipate the sulfur note.

Revisiting the bottle 21 weeks after initially storing it, the sulfur note is diminished, but not eliminated. While still not overly enjoyable, I do find the whiskey palatable, its sulfur note approaching amicable levels. Recently, while researching Redbreast’s new Small Batch Cask Strength release, I came across a few posts in the whiskey-centric corners of Reddit and YouTube that mentioned some sulfur-influenced batches of Redbreast, particularly in their 14 to 15-year old stock that was bottled in 2019 and 2020. The sources went on to claim that the folks at the Midleton Distillery corrected the issue, though not before some sulfur-influenced batches were bottled and shipped. Full disclosure, these claims are not coming from official sources, so take this as nothing more than Internet scuttlebutt chatter. Speaking personally, the idea that my specific bottle of Redbreast 15-year emanated from an anomalous batch and is not indicative of the profile Redbreast intended is feasible to me. Combined with the ocean of praise I mentioned above - nearly a decade of reviews with none mentioning any sulfur influence, I am comfortable saying that my specific experience was indeed a one-off, an unfortunate mistake.

While it will probably be some time before I take the plunge on another Redbreast 15-year, I am happy to report that a recently purchased bottle of my personal favorite - Redbreast’s 12-year Cask Strength - is totally free of match head sulfur and just as good as I remember; that’s the version I still enthusiastically recommend without hesitation.

In sticking with the 'Redbreast in March' theme, another offering from Midleton is up next.