Glendfiddich 12

Yesterday was the last night of the Levitt Amp concert series at the IX art park. The Bumper Jacksons were the headline band, and there were many folks swing dancing throughout the evening. The band also sang some blues style songs. Here's one warning women not to marry...

After the music, I went down to Bang! for dinner and a Scotch. Of the five they had, the one I had yet to try was Glenfiddich 12, so I ordered a dram.

His nose was mellow and a little fruity. The first sip was warm, sweet, and creamy. Glenfiddich was a smooth character, for sure. As I continued sipping I tasted a gentle cinnamon and spice. Adding water didn't seem to change him at all except for becoming more bold with the cinnamon flavor.


My dinner came quickly, and one of the dishes was spicy, which seemed to bring out the spice of my Scotch in a stronger way.


A word that came to mind as Glenfiddich and I continued our conversation was "slick." He was very smooth, and mellow...charming really, but also had another taste to him that became more apparent as the evening drew on. I couldn't quite place it; I thought perhaps nutty..maybe tobacco or ash?  Slightly bitter - not unpleasant, but rather distinctive. It made me stop and notice that there were more layers to him than I may have originally thought.


As I ate my dinner and sipped my Scotch, snippets of the conversation between the bartender and another patron made its way to my ears. As I listened to the talk of love and life, my thoughts turned to gratitude. How we often find solace and joy in the little things of life to help us deal with the larger, more difficult things. Or at times we must remember to take a broader perspective when the bigger elements of life are going very well, and it is only the smaller issues that burden us.

As busy as most of us have become these days, it's hard not to get caught up in our own lives and challenges. But there's a lot going on in the world right now, and sometimes we need to change our focus in an intentional way - to keep from being overwhelmed, and to maintain a connection to why we're trying so hard in the first place.

In my work with emotions, I've come to think of gratitude as a re-calibration of sorts. It is a mix of many emotions, possibly even incorporating all of them. From sadness and envy to anger and joy, I see a mix and a re-balancing of the emotions occur when gratitude is present. It can be a very helpful practice. Turning my attention back to my meal, thankful for the small joys of food and drink, and the many other ways I am lucky as well, I decided to do some reading up on this new fellow...and I found some very surprising news.

Glenfiddich is married. How can a single malt be married, you wonder? I wondered too. This led me to finally find out something that's eluded me so far in this journey - what exactly does "single-malt" mean? Apparently, it is simply that a whisky is made from malted barley, and aged at a single distillery. Many different ages and barrels of a distillery's whisky are mixed together (often in steel, but sometimes in oak) before bottling. This is done to create consistency in a many-variabled production process. Unless a whisky specifies "single-barrel" it has, in fact, been mixed with many other batches of whisky.

So what to make of this new information? Not much will change, I imagine. It might be exciting to try and seek out some single-barrel Scotches, but I'm not sure if that's a route I want to take at the moment. I've been staying away from blended Scotches intentionally, but now I know that even the single malts are technically blended. That's okay, because there are still elements that hold single-malts apart. They are still only made from malted barley, and there is still the art to their creation that remains unique to each distillery, so the magic of the journey is still there. Unlike with what a single-barrel Scotch could promise, I'm grateful to know that if I find the perfect bottle of single-malt, it won't be the only one of its kind.

To quote this Bumper Jackson song: "Live and Learn."

Trip to Skye

I was practicing some tunes yesterday with a friend, and I saw that he knew a tune called "Trip to Skye." The Isle of Skye, of course, is where Talisker is made, and I sighed thinking of how lovely it would be to take a trip there myself. I decided that I at least needed to learn the tune. It is written by John Whelan, and I found a recording of himself playing this beautiful waltz on youtube. It is poignant, to say the least. If you find yourself in a wistful sort of way, take a listen and sip a sweet scotch for solace...

Sadly, my bottle of Talisker Storm is now empty. I went to the store to buy another, but thought I should try something new - perhaps put some space between myself and Talisker for a little while. The store didn't seem to carry the Storm anyhow, so I looked through what they did have to find a good choice for my next bottle. Of the many Scotches I've met already, there are quite a few I wouldn't mind having at home, but they didn't have any of those either. So after much deliberating, I decided on Old Pulteney 12 year. I hadn't heard anything about him, but asked around and found good reviews.

While still in the bottle, his nose appeared very nice - fruity, mild, and inviting. I poured into the glass and saw that Old Pulteney is such a pretty amber colored Scotch. His nose still remained appealing, with a sense of freshness about it.

The first sip...was very good. Gentle, smooth, a little spice. I also tasted a solid briny flavor, and a little something in the finish. He was sweet and I thought that flavor at the end might be almond perhaps?  There was not a hint of smoke to be found in Old Pulteney, but I didn't mind. I found that I had taken several sips and kept going back for more before realizing that I hadn't added any water yet.

The water didn't change his nose too much, but maybe brought that unidentified flavor forward. The flavors seemed to shift - perhaps a citrus? A brief flash of cocoa? Whatever the name, it was tasty, and I was having so much fun.

I must say, I wasn't expecting much when I bought this bottle. As I was checking out, I saw that the store did indeed have a single Talisker Storm behind the counter, and I almost switched at the last minute. I didn't, and I had buyer's remorse when I walked out of the store. I was telling myself "Old Pulteney isn't even an Islay," wondering if I should go and exchange it, afraid that I'd regret my choice...but I was very pleasantly surprised. Old Pulteney is lovely.


The bottle is simple, but beautiful, with a ship etched on the back so you can see it through the whisky, almost in 3-D, calling to mind the sea...

When I visited the distillery's website I noticed they talked much of food pairings. Folks after my own heart! Their suggestion was that the lighter, fruitier Scotches be paired with spicy foods. I just happened to be eating a small spicy snack, and as I played with taking sips and nibbles back and forth...wow! Having a sip after the bite of spicy brought the citrus out strongly. Old Pulteney's flavors became bigger and bolder. After a bit it became too much though, and I went back to separating the flavors so I could really enjoy and identify them.


As I listened to Trip to Skye, and continued the conversation with Old Pulteney, I found that the music and the Scotch seemed to match. The tune has a rhythm that feels like the rocking sensation of being on a boat at sea... I imagined staring at the shore, watching it grow more and more distant as the ship carries us to a different land. The harbinger of adventure - a departure from all that is known.

The excitement of what may come buoying our spirit from the undertow of longing for what we are leaving behind...

I took the last sip of the Old Pulteney and marveled at how the evening turned out. Sometimes, things just fall into place...just so, and seem just right. Those times are to be cherished, and enjoyed to the fullest. For wherever we are in life, there is usually a lost shore we pine for, and almost as sure is a hopeful future in store...as long as we are brave enough to begin a new journey into the unknown sea of what lies ahead.

Scotchtoberfest

A friend of mine is a fellow lover of Scotch. He's been tasting and exploring the expressions of this fine spirit for much longer than I have, and was one of my first introductions to the vast number of possibilities that become open to you once you enter this world. The last time he had a gathering I had not yet had my senses enlightened to the love of this liquor, but this time...things were different.

Just a small sampling of his collection scattered about the table...

The night before the party I had gone to a free concert at the IX Art Park and heard this amazing band for the first time. Their music was passionate, the vibe was thrilling, and the night was perfect. One of their songs that struck me especially is called Love is Better. A line from the lyrics says: "I don't know, but I think I feel alright, there's something about tonight that makes me crazy...I don't know, don't think about the future, don't wonder where it's going, I just hang on..." Take a listen to the feel-good in-the-moment groove of Baaba Seth:

I ended up meeting five new Scotches that evening. One I didn't really like, one I spent the most time with, and one was a mysterious stranger that I only crossed paths with just as I was leaving...

Laphroaig Quarter Cask was the first. A night like this, where I meet so many new whiskies in such a short period of time and when there are other things distracting me from giving them my complete attention, always presents a challenge for really getting to know a Scotch. But in many ways it's fun to not have to focus in, but just let the night flow as it will.  As Baaba Seth says, "don't think about it...just do it...do what you want."

I liked the Quarter Cask, but I remember feeling like he was different from my first memory of Laphroaig, just as I found with the Triple Wood a few weeks ago. It may be that I need to look up the original Laphroaig again and spend some quality time really getting to know him.
 


The next one I tried was Oban Little Bay. I remember liking Oban 14, except for an after taste that I just couldn't agree with. The Little Bay was pleasant all around. I  don't remember any specifics, but he didn't have that disagreeable flavor that I remember from the other Oban I met. I'd like to hang out with the Little Bay again.




When I arrived at my friend's house, folks were mostly gathered around a bonfire outside, and the moon had only just begun to rise. With a little prompting, our host graciously played us a few tunes on his highland pipes - to honor the birthplace of the sweet spirit that was our gathering's namesake, and to serenade the rising moon...

The night of the party was a full "supermoon" in Aries. From what I've read, the astrological implications of this involve an acknowledgement of the past influences for clearing out old energies and old wounds, and a welcoming in of  the "wildcard" rebirthing energy of this moon. Sounds like a perfect combination to me!

mmm..pumpkin spice

The next two Scotches I met were a hand-imported Scapa 12 year old cask strength, and Balvenie Caribbean Cask 14 year. The Scapa was strong, and that is always exciting, but I wasn't that impressed with him otherwise. The Balvenie intrigued me because of the Rum Casks, and I kept returning to him throughout the night for more conversation. 

My friend, apart from his many other talents, also is a creator of delicious alcoholic ice cream. I had the privilege of trying a brand new flavor that evening: pumpkin spice. Always a seasonal favorite, the characteristic flavor for the ice cream came from Baily's Pumpkin Spice liqueur.  It might have been the pumpkin spice, or it might have been the gourmet s'mores we had (complete with sea salt chocolate and cinnamon graham crackers), but later in the evening I started to taste cinnamon in all the Scotches I was meeting. It might not have given me the most accurate impression or representation of the different whiskies, but it was a beautiful thing.

The evening continued with laughter and stories. It was such perfect Autumn weather, with just a hint of chill in the air, a beautiful moon, a welcoming fire, and friendly, interesting folks to share it with.

As the moon climbed higher in the sky and the hour grew late, it became time for me to head home. As I was leaving, my friend brought out a special bottle that had been hiding in the back for most of the evening. This one was also hand carried from Scotland, and I had heard stories of the legend behind the distillery, but had never heard much else about the whisky itself.


It was such a small taste, as I was about to drive home, but it was so good, and I was very sorry that I couldn't stay and learn more about this one.

The night was wonderful, and I was so grateful as I drove home thinking of all the elements from the evening - the Scotch, the Song, and the Soul.


Perhaps it was the unfair advantage of the mysterious, and the allure of the just-out-of-reach...but of all the Scotches I tasted that night, Cù Bòcan is the one I most want to meet again. Hopefully I will have that chance before too long.

Kilchoman Machir Bay

When my grandparents were young they loved to swing dance and they were really good at it. Someone once came up to my grandmother to say, "Excuse me, but I wanted to tell you that you dance divinely." I learned some steps from my grandfather and would jump at the chance to dance to the music of that time whenever I could. I loved it. One of my all time favorites is the well known classic, In the Mood.

I never really learned more than the few basic steps. I could follow well enough, and so with spins and turns that's all I really needed to know to have a great time dancing with my family. However, as everyone got older, and especially as my grandfather's health declined, the dancing grew sparse.

I've always wanted and intended to take lessons and learn how to swing dance really well. I've also wanted to find people I could dance with to this music! (Instead of always being the one to teach the very little I knew to whoever was willing to dance.) There were always obstacles: schedules, time, money, someone to dance with...

But after life's great quantity of ado...I finally went to a swing class last night. It was wonderful. Very laid back, a brand new dance space, really nice people, and great music.

Having mainly been doing salsa lately, it was a little rough getting back into the "swing" but I loved every minute of it.

It was a very long day, but dancing gave me a second wind and upon returning home, I cracked open the second to last single dram bottle for a tasting. Kilchoman Machir Bay - 2014 bottling.

He was much paler than the previous whiskies I've had. Definitely more yellow than gold, but a beautiful color. I learned that although there is no age statement, this Scotch is only about 5 years old. I'm sure that's part of the reason for the light color, but I've also recently learned about the process of caramel coloring, and that many distilleries use it in their Scotch. I don't have strong opinions on it currently, but Talisker is one that has the caramel added, and his color is darkened by it, I'm sure.

In the bottle his nose was strongly smoky, but with a perfumey floral scent as well. In the glass, I sensed banana, smoke, and pepper. The first sip was complex, but light - spicy, and also a bit tart. Adding water didn't change him too much in nose or flavor, and that was ok; I liked him.

I relaxed into the enjoyment of the evening, eating my late dinner and sipping my new Scotch. My dinner was a gruyere cheese-filled veggie "chicken" cutlet. Savoring the creamy, salty, crunchy tastes and textures, I recalled a memory...

Years ago I gave some friends an analogy of life's good experiences either being like a sunset or a chix patty. Chix patties, for the uninformed, are vegetarian friendly creations that imitate a fried chicken patty and are wonderfully delicious. They are perhaps a little addictive, as when you finish one, it's a very sad thing and you find yourself wanting more. Contrast this to a sunset: no matter how amazing and beautiful a sunset is, we generally don't wish for more of it when it is over. We let it pass gracefully. Certain moments in life are like sunsets, and certain moments are like chix patties. When the latter ones end, we're not quite ready to let them go.

I realize that in these types of moments, as with the chix patties themselves, part of our enjoyment is in the wanting of more.  Like being in love, which gives us the hope of a future together, it's that longing for it to last which affects the pleasure in the moment. So perhaps the difference is simply a matter of faith. Of all things in this world, one thing we can be certain of is that the sun will rise and set tomorrow. As long as we are alive to see it, there is no choice we can make or path we will take that will stop us from having another chance to see that beautiful sight. However...

If sunsets weren't guaranteed, would you cry when they were over?

Most things in life are not guaranteed, and even with sunsets - we can never know for sure if this one won't be our last. Part of the trick is probably acceptance of this fact. Understanding that change is the nature of things, and therefore endings inevitable, helps us not take things for granted. We want to be present and engaged in all the good moments of our life so we can get the deepest and fullest enjoyment of them. But if we can temper this with a bit of faith - knowing that even if we may never have a "chix patty" again, there will probably still be things just as delicious and enjoyable somewhere in the future - perhaps we can find a way to let go with more ease.

I finished my dinner, and still had a bit of Kilchoman left in my glass. His spice was the most prominent flavor, being very mild in all other ways. Although this one is an Islay, he reminded me a little of Macallan. Kilchoman was a little smokier, not as smooth, and definitely spicier, but they both had that slightly reserved, gentlemanly feel to them.

I am glad to finally be taking swing dancing classes. During the class, one of the folks who organizes it talked about how a lot of the volunteers who run the club are leaving soon, and so it may be harder to hold as many events. He put out the request for others to step up if at all possible. Another reminder of the ever-shifting nature of life and circumstance. Who knows what will happen, but I will enjoy it with the awareness of change, do what I can to help, and have faith that one way or another, I will swing dance again.

The night passed quickly, and as I took my last sip, I realized I wish I had more Kilchoman to chat with. He may not be "the" perfect Scotch, but tonight, he was absolutely the perfect Scotch to Swing Dance to.

Beeswing

As the season turns, so I return to the series of single-dram tastings with Laphroaig Triple Wood.

The equinox has come and passed, and the days grow cooler and shorter, turning fully towards Autumn. I feel like it's been a long time since I've spent time with any of the Scotches, so it feels good to meet someone new tonight. It's been longer still since I've met a new fella out and about. These single dram tastings at home are lovely, but I think it does take a certain element out of the experience. In a way it's like internet dating: I get to know the Scotches in many ways, but it's not quite the same as meeting them in the traditional way.

For one, I don't get to see the Scotches in their bottles; this doesn't affect my impression too much, but I do like to know how they present themselves. There is also the excitement of being in a different environment surrounded by strangers, but creating a little world unto myself, my Scotch-of-the-evening, and whatever chemistry may be sparked between us...

The song for tonight is called "Beeswing." For those who have known the spirit of restlessness, whether in themselves or those they have loved and lost...pour a dram and listen to this bittersweet timeless tale:

Triple Wood. At first, from the bottle, I smelled the sweet smokiness I love. It was good to be savoring it again. Once in the glass, his nose seemed a bit sharper. At first sip, he was warm and sweet. The smoky flavor was strong, and there was a bit of salty brine in the finish.

After adding a bit of water it opened him up so I could sense more smoke in the nose. He had a bright, exciting feel, and a light, fun sense to him. He was very enjoyable.

 

As the night went on, I noticed a strong creamy flavor in his sweetness. Throughout all there was that finish of salt or brine that became stronger the longer it lingered. It may be a flavor I have yet to name. Almost a bit bitter, it wasn't unlikable - just notable. 

I was surprised to not taste any of the cinnamon that was there in the first Laphroaig I had tried. There was definitely spice to the Triple Wood, but not distinct enough for me to identify. 

Overall, Laphroaig Triple Wood was a great Scotch, and such welcome company on this quiet Autumn evening. I'd love to spend another night with him sometime, and would probably choose him over many of the others I've met should we cross paths out at a bar somewhere.

I've been told there is gypsy blood in my family line. I cannot deny the restless spirit and longing for new experiences that comes with that. Often life forces us to choose between two desires: do we embrace the security of stability or take the risk inherent in freedom. A line from the song says:

"Maybe that's just the price you pay for the chains that you refuse." 

It is left to us to decide if that is a worthwhile price. Or for folks like myself, who want the best of both worlds, perhaps there is a way to find a security in the freedom itself...

It will be good to get back to the nightlife scene out-on-the-town, but I won't pretend I didn't enjoy the comfort and relaxation of sipping Scotch in my room with the cool night breeze gently carrying cricket song past my window.