Single malt Scotch whiskey still reigns supreme
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NEW YORK: Unlike vodka and gin, rum and tequila, whiskey is serious business. Very serious business. How do I know this? Well, among poets whiskey inspires verse. Among critics, alas, it inspires tomes — guides complete with display wheels in rainbow colors categorizing the myriad astonishing flavors and aromas to be found in a glass. They tend to include stern guidelines on how the budding connoisseur should taste and assess whiskey and — apparently more important — how not to.
You do not ordinarily see this level of serious detail in articles or books on rum, tequila or vodka. But you will eventually, for one simple reason.
Good whiskey is expensive, especially good Scotch whiskey, by which I mean single malt. From practically nowhere 35 years ago single malts took off. Now they rule the shelves in the liquor store — the serious liquor store. They cost more than most other spirits, without the expense of the ridiculous bottles that house high-end vodkas, which, by the way, are far less costly to produce than single malts.
Naturally, other spirits want to recover the shelf space and the attention given to single malts, while getting in on some of the profits. They've done this by following the example of single malts: they have become very serious.
Instead of the assembly-line bottlings of industrial hooch, almost every category of spirits — bourbon, Irish whiskey, tequila, rum, gin and even vodka — now has its artisanal production. These are often glorious bottles, demonstrating that careful craftsmanship can produce complex, intriguing spirits worthy of contemplation. While we have not yet heard in English at least from the Robert Burns of tequila — Jimmy Buffett cannot be the last word — I have no doubt that we will.
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Nonetheless, in the hierarchy of serious spirits, single malt Scotch whiskey still rules. No other category has the sheer variety of styles and expressions that single malt whiskey offers, nor has any other whiskey been as carefully analyzed, codified and parsed.
Let me interject here: I'm aware that serious single malt connoisseurs are by now beside themselves at my continued use of the spelling "whiskey," rather than their preferred "whisky." You receive your wisdom from the angels, perhaps, but my editors prefer whiskey, so it shall be.
Now, while single malts can be enjoyed year-round, the onset of winter and long cold nights — to my mind at least — is perfect whiskey weather. With that thought, the spirits panel gathered recently to sample 21 malts from the Speyside region of the Scottish Highlands. For the tasting, Florence Fabricant and I were joined by Pete Wells, editor of the Dining section, who writes frequently on spirits, and Ethan Kelley, the spirit sommelier at the Brandy Library in TriBeCa.
I will say that while tasting 21 of anything with the potency of whiskey can be a difficult proposition, this was one of the most pleasant and interesting tastings I can remember. The overall quality of the whiskeys was excellent, and the range of flavors and styles was remarkable.
"This was proof that Speyside is heaven on earth," Ethan said. "It blows my mind that these can be so close yet so different."
We chose Speyside mostly because it has more distilleries than any other region of Scotland, including three of the best known in the United States, Glenfiddich, Glenlivet and Macallan. We thought it would offer a greater cross-section of single malt styles than anywhere else, and the malts were indeed diverse. Some of the whiskeys were almost sweet, with aromas and flavors of honey and heather, toffee and flowers. Others had a pronounced fruity quality, both bright citrus and fruitcake. And a few had the sort of saline, medicinal, smoky flavors most often associated with the malts of Islay.
But the days are gone when single malts can be categorized by geography. It was easier decades ago, when regions like Islay, the Lowlands, the Highlands and the rest were fairly distinct. Each depended on local sources for its water, harvested nearby peat for fuel and grew and malted its own barley. Back then, many distilleries sought isolation, to escape what in American whiskey lore were called the revenuers, and isolation brought distinctiveness.
Nowadays, water is more standardized. Fuel is electric, or gas or oil, and even the malting of barley is commercialized, with malt specialists filling orders for various distilleries. The smoky, peaty quality that many people associate with Islay malts, a result of using peat to dry the malted barley, can be seen in malts from all distilling regions. Distinctiveness is no longer so much a result of site as it is of the distiller's discretion.
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