Corryvreckan

I recently have discovered the band Albannach. Yes, I know I'm late to the game, but better that than never. Primal drumbeats, highland pipes, and haunting voices. This music beckons to something deep within my spirit, rich and bursting with life; something desperate to be expressed; ecstatically intense. Take a listen if you will, but oh don't you dare stay still! Albacadabra

The ancient vein that runs through this music harks back to times of old. Like the dervish dances of the Sufi, there is a whirling force that draws you in. I found it fitting that the whisky I tried tonight also pays homage to such a powerful, primoridal energy.

Ardbeg Corryvreckan offers this description of its name on the back of the bottle. Speaking of tragic romance, gods, and creation, Corry was building up high expectations.

Robert the bartender & Corry

He was spectacularly dressed - a green bottle (my favorite color) and a label featuring a spiral and celtic knotwork. I've always been a sucker for the spiral.

His nose was average: sweet, with a hint of smoke, and a slightly floral scent...although that may have been the bouquet of zinnias on the bar. At first sip I was overwhelmed with SPICY! This Scotch was hot. It took me a little while to get past that and see what other flavors were in store.

I added the drops of water, which mellowed the spice a bit. There was something a bit astringent in this one's flavor, and I also tasted peppery notes. He was sweet, but not overly so. I could tell that Corry was interesting, but he was so strong that I had hard time getting past that to see what else he could offer.

With such a noble and powerful story and namesake, I really couldn't help but like this Scotch. His strength, at 57.1%, was a bit much for me though. I felt it overshadowed his other characteristics, but I suppose that's the way of things when you're whirling in dervish-like trance. I'll concede that perhaps it's just not the right time for me. Maybe I just can't handle Corry's intensity because I'm still so new to this game. Still, I liked him and wouldn't turn him away in the future, should the currents of life ever pull us together again.

Octomore

I woke up this morning with this song in my head, and thought I should share it with you; it's a good song to Scotch to: All I Say.

Yesterday was National Scotch Day. One of the local whisky bars offers flights of half pours to try several whiskies, and I considered it, but decided not to. They had a full wall of single-malts to choose from, and I took a minute to just admire the sheer number of bottles and brands.

 
I had intended to try a Highland or one of the many Islays suggested by friends, but then John, the bartender, introduced me to a stranger in black.

He heard me discussing my preference for smoky Scotches with my friend, and then started telling me about Octomore, who is an Islay Scotch, afterall. This guy wasn't even on the menu though, as he was apparently hard to find. I had never heard of him, or the distillery he came from - Bruichladdich. My friend who was joining me for the National Scotch Day festivities told me he had heard of Bruichladdich on his recent trip to Scotland, but neither of us, nor John the bartender knew how to pronounce it.

At first sight, his style is modern and sleek. He's younger than most of the others I've tried - aged only 5 years. If it weren't for John's suggestion, I probably would have passed him up, but I decided to have a conversation and see where it would lead.

The nose was indeed smoky, of the level of Talisker - a little too much at first. At first sip, I was surprised by the warmth of this one. As I swirled the whisky to meet the flavors, it melted in my mouth. He was coming on much stronger than any of the others I've tried so far. It was delicious. I added a dash of water and he softened a bit. Octomore is creamy and sweet, and the strong sense of smoke remained, but it changed a little. He was so much like Talisker that I wished I had them side by side to compare. There was something different about Octomore though, that I couldn't quite place.

My attention went back and forth a bit between this new, enticing Islay Scotch, and the conversation with my friend. We talked of many things - our recent trips, the magic and serendipity in travel, traditions, and of course Scotch Whisky. We pondered on the direction of Scotch making and hoped the old ways would not be forgotten. By the end of the evening I decided that the flavor in Octomore that I was noticing was a slight sourness. Barely perceptible, but hinting along the edges.


I really enjoyed Octomore, and would like the chance to meet him again. He had so many of the qualities I'm looking for, but I wouldn't say that I was completely taken - just exquisitely intrigued. There's still a lot to learn about him, and as the wall at the bar reminded me - a whole heck of a lot Scotches still to meet.

Shake Your Boogie

A good friend of mine scored VIP tickets to a local Blues Festival, and he asked me to come along. It was a hot and humid, typical summer day, so we went a little later in the afternoon. I was very much looking forward to the festival vibe: sunshine, fresh air, music, food vendors, dancing, and (because of our VIP status!) free beer!

When we arrived, the fun was in full swing. Crowds of people trying to stay cool, the smell of good food, and great music. The Jon Spear Band was one of the groups. Here's a song of theirs: Shake Your Boogie


 We decided to check out the beer offerings and then visit the vendors for dinner. Starr Hill was there, offering samples of some of their newer summer beers. As we tasted those, I looked to the right and realized there were more exciting things to taste also being offered.

 
  The Virginia Distillery Co. had a tent there, and they were giving out samples of their signature whisky. It turns out, that one of the folks pouring was an old friend of mine, Will Reed. Apparently he is now a Whisky Experience Ambassador for the distillery, which is very fancy sounding. He seemed to have full rights to the title too, because we started chatting about single-malts and Scotches, and I learned some very cool tidbits. I hadn't thought to write about this one, because you know, not a Scotch...but he explained that it actually is a single-malt Scotch from some undisclosed Highland distillery, with just a wee bit from somewhere else added, so as it is not allowed to be called single-malt. Their brand is very much an old world meets new idea. The whisky is brought over from Scotland, cloaked in mystery, and then finished in Virginia barrels. Suddenly, I was very intrigued.

 
I wanted to take the time to sit down with this new fella and see what he was like, but I was there with my friend, there was music to be danced to, and festival to be enjoyed. I tasted of course, and my first impressions were promising.

 
He was clean-cut (no smokiness) which I'm realizing is a Highland trait. Although I do think the perfect Scotch must have the smoky flavor, it's just not something the Highland lads have, so as I meet more of them, I've decided to be more open. Instead of focusing on what's missing, I'll tune in closer to their particular flavor, and allow myself to discover what endearing characteristics of theirs I may otherwise be missing.

This one was sweet and warm, with a hint of vanilla and a bit of spice. He went quickly though, and I wasn't able to give him my full attention while we were together, so I plan to see him again soon.

My friend and I returned to the festivities, and we also got to see a beautiful sunset.  It was delightful to meet this new whisky, so unexpectedly. A warm summer night, friends, music, dancing...and a little surprise...pretty much makes for the perfect night.

Laphroaig 10

Tonight I went salsa dancing. It's only been the second time in the past year, but a few years ago I would go every other week. I love it - the variety of people, the different dancing styles, and of course the dancing (which is one of my favorite things). I've met several friends through the salsa community; it's such a great group of people.

I saw some old regulars, and it was nice to reconnect and dance with them again. I also danced with a lot of new folks, which was fun. Here's one of the songs from this evening: All of Me - Bachata Remix. I love the lyrics in this song. "Perfect imperfections" hearkens back to my discussion about perfection and its fluid nature. Remixed to a bachata beat, the song witnessed a dance floor flowing with all types and all skills, and even among the missteps we found a rhythm and joy.

Despite what I was told, the bar there unfortunately did not have any Scotch. So after a while I left and went downtown. It was late, on a Sunday, and I wasn't sure if I'd find any place even open, not to mention that had a decent Scotch selection. I was pleasantly surprised to find a bar open and with two whole shelves of single malts to choose from.

The lovely bartenders and Laphroaig

Laphroaig. I've been hearing about this one for way longer than I have been drinking Scotch. My first love, long after our time was over, spoke to me about Laphroaig with almost mystical reverence. Since I've started on my tasting journey, and have been talking to folks about it, many have mentioned him. I decided tonight that it was finally time to meet this character and see what all the fuss was about.


The scent at first was a bit smoky and peppery, but balanced...very inviting. I slowly sipped and was immediately hit with the awareness - Laphroaig is hot. The initial surprise quickly mellowed into an undeniable clear taste of cinnamon. Cinnamon has always been one of my favorite flavors and I smiled at him, probably blushing.

After I added a bit of water, most of the smoky flavor seemed to fall away. In its place I tasted something that reminded me of the sea - like a brine. The feeling of salty spray on a beach at sunset... That and the cinnamon seemed to be the main flavors, dancing perfectly together, as we all were earlier. 

Laphroaig had a lovely mild sweetness, and was very smooth. He was very easy to sit with, but complex enough to keep me interested. I was sad when the night was over; I wanted to learn more about him. My enjoyment of the evening begs the question: is this one my new favorite? 

It's too soon to tell. I missed the strong smoky flavor of Talisker, but the cinnamon in Laphroaig was simply delightful...I wonder if I am giving an unfair advantage to the one that was my first favorite. Then again, what does it matter? Who's to say what is fair in affairs of the tongue? Our taste is our own, and we love what we love. I will spend more time with Laphroaig for sure, and who knows? I really enjoyed his company, and I intend to see him again, but I'm not in a rush. I do, however, look forward to it.

Start it all over again

Some nights you just want to be with someone familiar and trusted. Someone you can relax with, knowing they won't disappoint you. Those nights come at the end of too-long days, within weeks of doubt and shifting perspective. Tonight, being one of those nights, when everything seems to be falling short and fading away, I return to my Talisker Storm.


I've been thinking much lately on transformation and metamorphosis and rebirth - the phoenix and the butterfly. There is something so primally universal in the idea of becoming so much more. Something that speaks to our mortal selves, inspiring us to strive and try again, no matter what, to transcend all the failures and less-thans of our past and step into all we ever dreamed of being.

A friend of mine was traveling in Scotland when I was in Ireland. He heard a singer while there named Jo Philby. One of her songs really struck me, and fits with the theme:

Start It All Over Again

It's a good song for these kinds of nights, and if you find yourself in similar place, cozy up with a warm spirit and take solace in her sweet voice.

It's been a while since I've tasted the Talisker. I tried to remember what it was like the first time, and wondered if it would be the same tonight...  It was different, but really still just as good. The nose didn't seem quite as I remembered; the smokiness wasn't as apparent. This time I was comparing to the last one and realized there is a brightness to Talisker which I think is a key point in why I like him so much. All of the elements that I remember still flowed in the flavor: smoky, slightly sweet, spicy. Absolutely still my favorite.

I will sleep well tonight, knowing that even within the shifting senses of what is right and wrong, there still remains a familiar friend, comforting and true.

Lagavulin 16

There was no music I could hear at the bar tonight, but on the way home a new CD offered me a jazz song that I have not heard before. It's an old one, but new to me; it seemed fitting - a bittersweet memory, "Autumn Leaves."   Have a listen, but be warned: wistful thoughts of what could never be may float into mind...

Tonight was the first I've heard of some fairly standard distinctions among Scotches - regional descriptions. Two friends were joining me to meet a new whisky this evening, and the one has tried many Scotches in the past, but definitely has a favorite. He asked me if I prefer Highlands or Islays. I had no idea, but when he explained that Islay Scotches are generally the smokier, peatier flavored ones, I knew that way my style.

His favorite, he told me, is Lagavulin. It just so happened that the bar we found ourselves in this evening had that very one. Lagavulin 16 to be precise, so I ordered a glass. With his description of the peaty, smoky flavor, I was already expecting to love this guy. The bottle was very dignified and beautiful for sure, although my picture doesn't do it justice:


As I brought the glass to my nose, the smoky peat was obvious; I couldn't help but think of Talisker. The thought occurred to me that maybe many of these Scotches would have that bonfire flavor that I love, and maybe it was going to be hard to distinguish among them. As I swirled the whisky in my mouth to really

get to know it though, certain flavors seemed to set it a apart. Lagavulin's flavor is smoky, peaty, and truly the most like Talisker yet. However, after I added the water and sipped slowly, I realized it was more fiery. The nose was smoky, but spicier...almost like cinnamon. There also seemed to be a hint of bitterness to this one. That, ironically, also existed beside a sweeter note. The one credit I can give to this gentleman is that he was very complex.

Unfortunately, as the evening went on, what might have been sweetness became cloying. It didn't exactly taste sweet, but it felt thick and syrupy like sweet things often do. I don't know if this was due to his age (being older than others I've tried), but I soon realized that I didn't like it. In so many ways it reminded me of Talisker, but it was disappointingly, not as enjoyable. In fact, I barely wanted to finish the glass and would have been okay cutting the whole evening short, but I stayed to the finish to be respectful.

In the end, I was surprised by my disappointment; of all the Scotches I've tried so far, this is the only one I would refuse to see again. It's nothing personal - obviously he is a favorite to some, just not my style. I realize I'm comparing all of the whiskies I meet to my dear Talisker, and I wonder if I've embellished the memory of him and inadvertently created some false standard. Perhaps it is time I have another night with that one. Soon, indeed.