The Royal Bermuda Yacht Club

 

First referenced in Trader Vic's 1947 Bartender's Guide, the Royal Bermuda Yacht Club is a delicious variation of a traditional Daiquiri. While there is indeed an actual namesake establishment, I am unsure how and why the drink came to be named. Perhaps a bit of field research is needed, meanwhile, what is totally devoid of uncertainty is the complimentary cohesiveness of this concoction. Like a spiked, spiced limeade, fans of the citrus world's green gem are sure to be delighted. While lime is the dominant flavor, the rum and falernum bring an interesting mix of spice and sweet. Tying the whole experience together is the curacao, which while never dominant, is always detectable.

 

Ingredients

• 2.0 ounces aged rum (see Rum Minutiae note below)
• 0.75 ounces lime juice
• 0.50 ounces falernum
• 0.25 ounces dry curacao
• Dash of simple syrup (optional, only if needed)
  

Composition 

Place all ingredients in a cocktail shaker, stir, and taste. If too bitter/citrus-heavy for your tastes, add a dash of simple syrup. Once satisfied, add ice to the shaker and shake, rattle and roll for a good 15 to 20 seconds. Strain into a glass, traditionally stemware, but you can use whatever tickles your fancy. Sit back, sip, and give a silent nod of thanks to the tiki enthusiasts around the globe that not only created but preserved these concoctions through the years.

Rum Minutiae

Most recipes call for a Barbados rum, which I too echo. I've also quite enjoyed using Guyana rums, particularly El Dorado. You will want a rum with 3-10 years of age under its belt. Unlike a traditional daiquiri, I'd avoid a rum younger than 3 years of age. 

 

Recently I've enjoyed a hybrid approach to the rum selection - using an ounce of 5-year El Dorado and an ounce of a finished Barbados rum, either Doorly's XO or Mount Gay XO. The Doorly's hails from the Foursquare distillery and spends 6 years in ex-bourbon before being finished for a short period of time in ex-sherry barrels. The Mount Gay XO is a blend of rums aged 5 to 17 years with components of the blend spending time in ex-American whiskey barrels (both bourbon and non-bourbon) and ex-Cognac barrels. These finished rums from Barbados inject a nice dash of added complexity to an already satisfying libation.

 

The final rum note is the recommendation to avoid using aged Jamaican rums in this drink. While I personally adore Jamaican rums, the funk they bring to cocktails clashes more than it compliments in this particular cocktail. Don't fret though, Jamaican rums have plenty of other concoctions where their presence is mandatory, simply store the funk for use another day. Cheers!

 

Montrose & Sons Caol Ila 10-Year

Classification: Single Malt Scotch Whisky
Country: Scotland
Region: Islay (Port Askaig: 55.854°N -6.109°W)
Mash Bill: 100% Malted Barley
Strength: 47.1% ABV (94.2° Proof)
Color: Unknown (suspect natural color)
Filtration: Non-chill Filtered
Maturation: 10 years in 100% ex-bourbon casks
Price: $64.97 (Total Wine)

 

Tl;dr summary - A remarkably enjoyable Caol Ila from an independent bottler that little is known about. Whisky hailing not only from a single cask but an independent bottler can oftentimes be quite unique from official offerings from the source distillery, but not here. Caol Ila’s signature profile of modest peat, lemon peel, and vanilla is instantly recognizable proving that this particular cask was no oddball being discarded by the distillery. Priced fairly and bottled with little alteration, this malt is a great representation of not only Islay’s largest distillery but the splendid potential of independently sourced barrels of whisky.

While Ardbeg, Lagavulin, and Laphroaig usually garner the lion’s share of the Islay spotlight, I’ve always been enamored with the malts from Caol Ila. Whiskies from Islay are renowned for their peat smoke influence and while Caol Ila is indeed peated, the magic of Caol Ila to me is how the smoke is more co-star than scene-stealer in the malt.

This particular bottle came into my life courtesy of Total Wine. Despite having never heard of Montrose & Sons (and Google not returning any compelling brand history), I took a leap based on the transparency of the whisky being offered: name of the distillery, age, higher than standard strength, non-chill filtered, and maturation cask details. Oh and all of the above offered at a reasonable asking price. There is always a risk that an independent bottling will not match the standard of official bottlings from the respective distillery, but in my anecdotal experience, I’ve never experienced a ‘bad’ independent whisky. What these independent whiskies tend to be is different from official bottlings. Personally I find this exciting and have stumbled across genuine gems of one-of-a-kind whiskies. And therein lies the rub - being an independent bottling and typically from a single-cask, these whiskies are destined to be one-and-done, never to be repeated affairs. Once the bottle is drained, that particular shooting star of a malt is gone forever. Don’t be sad that it’s over, be happy that it happened at all …. or something like that.

This 10-year old independent bottling does not stray too far from the Caol Ila I fell in love with all those years ago, the 12-year old. The majority of Caol Ila, particularly their younger offerings, is matured exclusively in ex-bourbon barrels. I suspect that commonality, combined with the independent only being two years younger than its official counterpart, play a large part in the similarities between these two. Where the Montrose & Sons example gains a significant edge however is in its bump in strength, 47.1% vs 43.0% to be precise. That extra 4.1% ABV may seem small, but does it ever amplify the experience. Flavors are more vibrant and reverberate longer. The malt has more margin for tinkering with dilution and is not as easily washed out as the standard offering. That last point is a bit moot however as this malt drinks beautifully at its full strength, indicating that the whisky spent all ten of its years in a quality barrel. I do suspect that Montrose & Sons diluted this Caol Ila down a bit before bottling - I’d wager the malt drained from the barrel at least 10% higher in strength. While I’d love a true cask-strength offering, I do applaud Montrose & Sons for leaving the proof above the standard offering’s 43%.

One final note - while Montrose & Sons do not state this whisky is natural in color, one look at the bottle and I feel safe in saying it is indeed au natural with no added artificial coloring. The same cannot be said for the official bottling of 12-year old Caol Ila. One of the sad realities of many Diageo whiskies is that they do indeed contain artificial coloring to make them appear darker. Also, the official bottling is chill-filtered to ensure perfectly clear whiskey, even when water/ice is added. Montrose & Sons gratefully did not chill-filter their Caol Ila and I believe their offering is stronger for it. Perhaps this difference in filtering also contributes to the 10-year being more vibrant and bright. In the past decade I’ve seen more and more producers abandon the use of both artificial coloring and chill-filtration as consumers become educated to both practices and realize that neither is needed to produce a quality whisky. Here’s to hoping that Caol Ila’s official offerings ditch both and let their signature malt sing its song unhindered.

Nose
Peat-smoke (shocking, I know), lemon, caramel/vanilla. A bit of seaweed/seashore. Passing scent of pine and mint.

Taste
The peat is more prominent in the taste than in the smell. Once acclimated, lemon oil begins to emerge. One of my favorite cocktails is a Sazerac which I garnish with a lemon twist that I drop in the drink (some will think that blasphemous for a Sazerac, to each their own). Anyway, after finishing a Sazerac, I usually eat that lemon twist, chewing and extracting the soaked-in remnants of the Sazerac combined with an intense hit of lemon oil, damn I find that tasty. I say all this to say that Caol Ila always makes me think of that lemon twist - every sip of Caol Ila I’ve had delivers that awesome lemon oil note. In addition to the lemon, there is a vanilla/caramel note, even a salted caramel note. This is not a dark caramel, more like a blonde caramel that has just started its turn from white/clear to light brown.

Finish
Dominated by citrus and peat smoke in equal parts. Vanilla and mint make an appearance, but this is a lemon-infused smoke show first and foremost. The finish is long and the peat smoke can linger in my sinuses for a number of hours. Really quite remarkable how that component sticks around for the long haul.

Overall
As I said, I’ve always enjoyed Caol Ila’s whisky. Happily their standard offerings are fairly easy to find and there are numerous independent bottlings of their whisky. I have yet to be disappointed by any of them, but keep in mind if you do not like peated whisky, then you will not like peated Caol Ila. Four years ago when our whiskey tasting group was knocking out monthly group tastings, Caol Ila 12-year was month #4’s mystery whisky. It was in that tasting that Caol Ila’s legend grew exponentially for me as one participant penned one of the finest set of whiskey impressions I’ve ever read. It was the first peated whisky this taster had ever tried and boy oh boy did they hate the experience. Their concluding sentence has stuck with me to this day such that whenever I see a bottle of Caol Ila in the wild, their words reverberate in the ole noggin:

This was, by every measure, an evil that was put upon me. I suffered, and am changed. I have no idea what this could be, besides distilled wickedness and pain.

Simply brilliant, and a vibrant reminder that oftentimes it’s the disappointments in life that tend to provide the greatest insight, humor, and hope for our future endeavors. As always, trust your senses, seek out what you like, and learn from the rest. Until next time.