Still Here … And a Little More Highland Park

Yes, I’m still here and yes, I know it’s been a while since I posted anything. Time for this blog has been at a bit of a premium lately and I really haven’t had the opportunity to spend much time tasting whisky of late. Plus, if I’m being honest, the fact that this blog has received very few hits and I’ve received virtually no feedback has been … um … disappointing. Oh, well. I guess I was really writing this primarily for myself, anyway, right?

But last night I did have some time and the inclination so I poured a little more of that Highland Park 12-year old. I once again used my stainless steel ice cubes and cut the whisky with a bit of water (is there a magic ratio for whisky to water?). The biggest difference was that last night I wasn’t really trying to “taste” the whisky; rather, I was just trying to enjoy it while I surfed the web and read my Twitter feed. And you know what? I think when I wasn’t trying to be so serious and so careful … I found much greater enjoyment from the glass of whisky. Though again, if I’m still being honest, I think I would have preferred a Tawny Port. But I did find myself growing rather fond of the whisky as the evening wore on and the glass grew less full.

Also, I recently purchased another bottle that I’m planning to open, try, and write about soon. I think that I’ll try it on its own, probably going through the progression of straight, cold, and cut that I tried with the Highland Park. But I’m particularly interested to have a side-by-side tasting so that, perhaps, I can begin to understand the differences between the bottling of one distillery and another. So what bottle did I buy? Ah, for that you’ll have to keep checking back.

And I’ve read that Thursday is World Whisky Day. I’m hoping to make it to the tasting being hosted at Vine & Table … but my son is having his tonsils taken out tomorrow so “me” time may be a thing of dreams rather than reality. We shall see.

Highland Park — Tasting 2

After spending a long weekend in Atlanta for a cheerleading competition (no, I’m not a cheerleader…), I finally had a chance last night to pour myself a bit more of the Highland Park 12-year-old. Last week, while searching for a Valentine gift for my wife, I happened upon some cool stainless steel “ice cubes” in Brookstone (n’ICE Cubes Stainless Steel Drink Chillers). These seemed to make more sense than the stone cubes that I’d used previously. Thus, recalling that I’d preferred the whisky cold on my first tasting, I decided to use these cubes. And, unlike my first taste, I added a bit of water (tap water … is that a problem?) to the glass. Overall, I’d have to say that I found the whisky much more enjoyable this time around. The medicinal quality that I found the first time seemed to have been eliminated almost entirely by the addition of some water and the alcohol’s attack on the back of my mouth was decidedly lessened. I’m still not sure that I can identify particular flavors or aromas, but I certainly did find more to taste than just alcohol. I also discovered that I really enjoyed just slowly swirling the whisky around my mouth, allowing the different tastes to reveal themselves as the whisky came in contact with different parts of my tongue and mouth.

So I guess that I can safely say that I’ve made two observations about my own tastes: I prefer the whisky cold and I find it more flavorful with a bit of water (of course, discovering just the right amount of water will be the next challenge).

It may be time now to try another whisky so that I have something with which to compare the Highland Park and begin the process of learning different styles. Any suggestions? And does it matter if I use tap water (ours is surprisingly good tap water…) or should I use bottled water?

Tasting: Highland Park 12-year

Saturday night (late Saturday night) I finally had the chance to break the seal on my bottle of Highland Park 12-year-old. I made sure to have a clean palate (I even ate a bland cracker). I used the Riedel stemware that I’d purchased. I was ready. And so I poured.

Now, as a wine guy, I’ve gotten very used to smelling (or “nosing”) my wine before I drink. Based on some of the reading that I’ve been doing, it appears that step is also important with whisky. But one caution that I read was that unlike wine, it was usually best not to start by just shoving your nose down into the whisky glass as the difference in alcohol levels between a 15% wine (at the high end) and a 46% whisky is dramatic. As one of the books suggested, I “approached with caution.” And boy was that good advice.

I didn’t have to get too close to the glass before the smell of the alcohol was upon me. Not so strong as to send me running for the hills, but certainly strong enough to say, “Caution! Strong spirits ahead!” Once I’d managed to adjust to the strength of the alcohol, I allowed my nose to get a bit closer and take a bigger whiff. Well, one thing I can say for sure: Whisky and wine do not share many similarities on the nose.

As I smelled the whisky I came to the realization that I had two problems: First, it was hard to separate the alcohol from the other components of the whisky. Second, as I tried to make out other aromas, I found that I didn’t have the words to describe them. My vocabulary for describing wines is still relatively small (though I feel as if I’m growing, albeit slowly). But with the whisky, I am starting over at the ground floor. At to that the fact that some of the aromas that my reading has suggested that I look for are not aromas that I would necessarily recognize. I could certainly detect a smokiness in the glass. Was that the peat smell that is so often made reference to? There was also a bit of something that I associated with either a medicine or maybe a cleaning product (though not in a bad way). Lots of the other tasting notes that I’ve read have made mention of heather, but I wouldn’t know the smell of heather unless I was walking through a field of it (and even then, someone would have to tell me that the grasses I was traipsing through were heather…). But overall, it was the smoke and alcohol that seemed to dominate.

Well, enough of that. It was time for a taste. Yes, I’d had a sip of this whisky shortly before I started this blog, but that was after trying another whisky first and with a whole lot of distractions. This time, it was just me, the darkness of my basement, and the whisky.

And so I sipped.

I’ll admit that my first taste did not make me jump up and down with excitement and glee. Nor did it make me want to just down shot after shot. Perhaps it was the strength of the alcohol that continued to dominate my palate. While the whisky seemed relatively light in the front of my mouth, the back of my mouth felt as if it was under assault. I took several sips, swirling the whisky around in my mouth, allowing it to touch all of the different parts of my tongue, trying to tease out all of the flavors. Perhaps my senses are too dull or perhaps the flavors were just too subtle, but I couldn’t really detect any sort of fruit or flower. Rather, I tasted alcohol and smokiness and … something else.

After several sips, I decided that I wanted to see what the whisky tasted like colder. Not wanting to dilute it with water or ice (that will be reserved for my second tasting), I decided to use one of those frozen rocks that I’d bought on a whim several years back and which have mostly been taking up room in my freezer. After letting the whisky chill around the rock for a few minutes, I began sipping again. While I still didn’t find my palate shouting out the names of fruits or flowers or other sorts of familiar tastes, I did sense the whisky had softened in my mouth a bit, which really makes me interested to see the difference that cutting it with a bit of water will make.

But after one tasting, right now I’d still have to say that I’d prefer a glass of Port or a dessert wine to a glass of whisky. Yet I still find myself very curious and interested in further exploration. It may just be that my palate has become sensitized in a particular way and I now have to learn to smell and taste other things in other ways. We shall see.

Below is the actual tasting note that I wrote as I sipped the whisky Saturday night:

Light on the front palate, assaults the back of the mouth; hot, but stays short of being too much so. More harsh than pleasant, though softened up a bit with a rock cube. Need to try again cut with some water.

A Wine Guy's Exploration of Whisky (Part 2)

So where to begin? As I mentioned in my prior post, I was very impressed with the selection of single malt whiskies available at Vine & Table. And I remembered that one of the employees (Dennis, though I unfortunately don't recall his surname) was once referred to by another employee as the "whisky guy". So on Saturday, between the errands that I had to run for my wife (new jeans for my son, a case for my daughter's Kindle Fire, toilet paper...), I managed to stop in at Vine & Table and, lucky for me, Dennis was working. So I told him that I was ready for Whisky 101.

Without further ado, he grabbed a glass and a bottle from the shelves and poured me a little bit of … something (and unfortunately, I managed to accidentally delete the photo that I took of the bottle; I’ll report back after my next visit to the store so that I can identify what it was). A few things surprised me right away. First, the glass that Dennis gave me wasn't a big hulking sort of glass (tumbler?) that I’ve come to associate with most liquors. I was expecting this:

But the glass that Dennis set before me looked more like this:

Now why was he serving me with this seemingly dainty glass that looked less like the big glasses that I’d generally seen served in bars and restaurants and more like a diminutive wine glass? Hmm. New questions to ponder.

Also, I was expecting the glass to be filled with a fairly deep amber or brown liquid. But instead, it was almost (though not quite) clear. When I looked at it from more of an angle, I realized that it was faintly colored, but not the deep hue that I’d anticipated.

But before I could spend any more time really thinking about the glassware or the color, I did what I’d really set out to do: I took a sip.

Fire!

The first word that came to mind to describe the whisky that Dennis poured for me was hot. Not hot, like just off the oven hot, but hot, like wow, there must be a lot of alcohol in that! I was, at best, an unpleasant surprise. Frankly, all I got was the heat of the alcohol and it appeared to mask any flavor at all. Another sip or two and things started to mellow a bit, but I can’t say that I was off to a great start. Maybe it’s that my palate has adjusted to the much lower alcohol content of wine (though I will acknowledge that I really like some of the big bold 15%+ wines), but I was disappointed that I was having a hard time identifying much flavor around the heat of the alcohol.

When Dennis asked me what I thought, I answered honestly. After all, I’m not going to learn what I do and don’t like — and he’s not going to get to learn my palate — if I’m not honest. (And I guess I should note that while I was sipping that whisky, Dennis was giving me a real Whisky 101 lesson, telling me about the manufacturing process, a bit about the regions, a little about some of the terms, and so on.)

Anyway, Dennis took another bottle off his shelf and poured it for me. Though my photo was (again) accidentally deleted, I do recall what this particular bottle was: Highland Park 12-year-old. With not a little trepidation, I took a sip.

Oh.

The difference between this drink and the first was night and day. First, it had the darker hue that I’d been expecting. And it had flavor. Lots of flavor. Good flavor. Plus, though I could certainly tell that there was alcohol, it didn’t overwhelm any sense of taste and flavor; rather, the whisky was much, much smoother. It was more of a pleasure to swirl around in my mouth rather than the fire from the first drink. Though I guess that I should also admit that given the choice between Highland Park or the a glass of the Alta Vista Atemporal 2007 that was sitting on the counter, I’d most likely choose the wine; that said, if I were sitting down with my book, a sip or two (or five) of Scotch might just be OK.

Unfortunately, at this point in the proceedings, things took a bit of a left turn. Two other customers came in to talk to Dennis, both of whom were much more knowledgeable about single malt whisky. They were particularly interested in hearing from Dennis about the merits (or lack thereof) of chill filtering. I tried to follow the conversation, and I certainly understood the technical aspects of the discussion, but when it came to comparing a whisky from one region to another or one process to another and especially one particular bottle to another, I really didn’t know what they were talking about or have a touchstone for the conversation. It’s hard to understand a comparison of stone ground mustard and Dijon mustard if all you've ever tried is a generic yellow mustard. And I certainly couldn’t blame Dennis for spending time with these other customers; after all, his job is to sell, and he had a much better chance of selling to those other customers (who, for all I know, are regular customers who buy quite a bit). I should also give Dennis kudos for not ignoring or forsaking me as the discussion progressed. But my Whisky 101 quickly became their Whisky 301.

But at least I now had something to go on, something to help me think about whether this was an area that I really did want to explore. I concluded yes (obviously), but I also realized that I still didn’t know enough to walk back to the shelves and make a selection. But as Target and its rolls of toilet paper began to beckon and I made ready to leave, I noticed a book on Dennis’ desk. It was some kind of guide to single malt whisky. I asked him if I could take a look at the book and he handed it to me. I began to thumb the pages and quickly realized that I now knew my next step. So, with a quick goodbye, I headed to my local bookstore (via Target’s toilet paper aisle, of course).

The book that Dennis had let me see was the 5th edition of Michael Jackson’s Complete Guide to Single Malt Scotch. Dennis told me that he was pretty sure that there was a new edition. And he explained that Jackson was the best respected authority on single malt whisky. Sure enough, I found (and purchased) the 6th edition (published in 2010).

Michael Jackson’s Complete Guide to Single Malt Scotch appealed to me because it had a section on the history of Scotch, a discussion of the terminology and some of the processes, and then tasting notes (and photos) of hundreds and hundreds of bottles. And, both from what Dennis had told me and from what I gleaned from scanning that book and several others, Jackson appears to have been one of — if not the — authority on single malt whisky.

I also scanned the other books on the shelf and picked another book that seemed to have a much more in depth discussion on the process of making whisky (including a section on American whiskey). It too included tasting notes for a huge number of bottles, thus giving me immediate access to at least two professional reviews to help me get started.

When I got home later that afternoon (with Kindle case, jeans, and toilet paper), I went down into my basement, settled into my reading chair (an absurdly comfortable chaise that I’ve had since law school) and started to just skim through the two books. I wasn’t so much reading either of them as I was picking this page or that page to read just based on what caught my attention.

One of the first things that I did was look up that Highland Park 12-year-old that Dennis had poured for me (he had explained that the age on a bottle meant that the youngest the whisky could be was the age indicated). I was curious to know what the professionals thought of that particular whisky. Was it held in high regard or was it generic junk? I’d presumed that Dennis had tried to impress me with something decent, but who knows? I didn’t like the first bottle he poured for me. And I’ve certainly had enough wine retailers try to pass of as a “great wine” something just this side of swill. Well, it turns out that Dennis didn’t steer me wrong. Both books regarded that Highland Park bottle as being a great all around bottle. Just on a whim, I even took a look at author Barry Eisler’s web page and found that bottle included in his “highly subjective” top ten (no. 3 but in no particular order…).

I would probably have gone to the store on Sunday to buy a bottle … but this is Indiana and you can’t buy booze in Indiana on a Sunday (though you can buy it in a restaurant or at a stadium; if you want to know more about Indiana’s insane, arcane, and archaic liquor laws, please check out Indiana’s Arcane and Archaic Alcohol Laws published at my other blog). Well, that and the fact that we were all headed downtown to the NFL Experience and Super Bowl Village.

Of course, that also meant that I had more time on Sunday evening to read more about this and that… I wanted to at least understand some of what I was reading on a bottle’s label so that when I looked at the shelves it wasn’t as if the labels were written in Latin. I remembered when I’d first starting prowling the aisles at wine stores, wondering what the hell a Chateauneuf-du-Pape was or what Crianza, Meritage, and Premier Cru meant. When I’d looked at the shelves and seen terms like Nonchill or Cask Strength I had the same sense of disorientation. So, by taking my time to read a bit more, I felt that I was at least giving myself the ability to begin to understand what I looking at and, soon enough, drinking.

But here I need to say something that may be sacrilegious to the single malt devotees who (I hope) are reading this blog: So far, I really don’t like Michael Jackson’s writing style. Sure, any individual sentence may be well written, but I find that, even within a given paragraph, let alone a longer passage or section, he tends to jump around, sometimes as if he’s writing in a stream of consciousness. And, though he provides some definitions early on, he still seems to expect that his reader knows quite a few other terms that, at least to someone who has grown up in a suburban American environment, are Greek (so to speak). Sorry, but while I have a general idea what peat is, I don’t have much experience with stepping through it, let alone digging it up, burning it, and smelling the aroma it gives off. I looked, but my suburban subdivision seems wholly devoid of any peat bogs. That all being said, I will acknowledge that the 6th edition of his book was published after Jackson’s death and was revised by several other authors, so perhaps blame should not be laid entirely on his step (grave?). Furthermore, my criticism of his general writing style does not, so far, extend to his actual descriptions of various whiskies. When I read his tasting notes, I do get some sense of what the whisky might be like (though it remains to be seen if I really smell and taste what he and others do).

So come Monday evening, on my way home I stopped first at Costco (another errand for the spouse…). I've become very familiar with Costco’s wine section (who knew that Costco was the largest wine retailer in the US?) but I’d never spent much time looking at the other liquors that they carried. I took note of the single malt whiskies that they had so that I could try to read about them later. And then I went back to Vine & Table. I had decided to buy a bottle of that Highland Park 12-year-old that Dennis had poured for me. If he thought that was a good starting point and both Jackson, Roskrow (author of the other book), and Eisler thought highly of the bottle and it wasn’t obnoxiously expensive, then it would provide a good starting point (yes, I could have started cheaper, but I was actually concerned that starting too cheap might put me off rather than draw me in). I also noticed that the glasses that Dennis had used were available for sale (Riedel Vinum single malt whisky), and at a not too terribly expensive price. So with bottle and glasses in hand, I headed for home.

Now if I can just find a time to, you know, open the bottle and drink. But that will be another day. And as soon as I’ve had that chance … you will be the first to know. Of course, I think that I want to do some more reading too…

Update February 13, 2012 (formatting and typo corrections).