Saturday, March 12, 2011

Potential Appleton Estate Entry. Review it.

Maimaitai

Some believe that the gods were around long before we were, that they created the world. However, there has always been an argument that the gods exist because we have belief in them. The truth lies somewhere in between…

Existence is said to be relative to ones surroundings. So the fact that everyone else around him was a half-formed concept without shape or form made it acceptable that he was, too. He had no name. He was just a concept waiting to hatch, waiting for a moment of divine inception. The shapes around him were similar to himself, but there were differences. They were subtle variations, almost inconceivable - a difference in colour, or height, or flavour. Together, they remained for millennia without change. Their energy spent radioing their half formed concept at the world in an attempt to find somewhere to exist. And so they waited.

The summer of 1811had been unseasonably dry, and by the end of August the grounds at the Knickerbocker Boat Club were scorched brown. The banks of the Hudson river were down, revealing the dirty soil beneath. The boats were too high to float, and so their owners were at their leisure. The gentry were lounging in the supperhall, fleeing the summer’s heat and were thirsting for drinks served cold to fight the heat and made from the dry fiery rum from St Croix (as it was all the rage).
“Boss, the knickerbockers want summin cold. They say’s too hot for a glass of toddy or cocktail. C’n you think of anything t’ fancy ‘em?”
“Damn these knickerbockers. Never mind that it’s the only ice we have for the meat cooler. They’re the one’s ‘ll complain when they get sick. They wanted it on St Croix, I heard”
“Yes, boss.”
“Tell them I’ll fix them something. Go to the kitchens and fetch me some of the summer’s key limes. The ripest ones you can find.”
“Yes, boss.”
The man walked into the bar, considering his bottles of cordial and syrups. His stocks were up after a long spring and summer’s fruits had yielded many gallons of preserves and syrups to last him the year. He knew that the gutsy rum was favoured for its fire, but his bottles were of an very high proof, bought straight from the boats last year in Florida. He’d need to calm it down with some cordials and mix it thoroughly with ice to get it cold. Served a glass of rum limeade to cool the gents, the drink should suffice the insufferable moneyed.
The boy returned to the bar with the citrus. The bartender quickly assembled a tray of drinks for the gentry and gave them to the boy on a platter.
“Boss, they’ll wanna know. What’s in ‘em? And what d’ya call it?
“Its their cursed rum with my finest citrus, orange cordial and raspberry syrup. And take the chance to say the name “Knickerbocker” to him – it will be the only time you’ll have the opportunity.”

He didn’t notice at first, but after a few years, the idea next to him faded away. It grew more solid, more developed, but on the other side of reality. To him, he simply faded away. Dozens of years of projecting passed. Until the idea on his other side began to fade as well…

Ernest Beaumeant-Gannt stood behind his bar and smiled at his joint. The rest of the country might be in this depression, but to stand at this vantage in his place, you’d never know it. Booze was legal again (both a blessing and a curse for someone with his trade history) and he had the best ‘escape from the doom and gloom of the real world’ joint in town. Live shows, entertainment, booze and flooze. The real escape from this horrible world. Step through the doors and you’d arrive in beautiful Polynesia, where all is pure and beautiful and most importantly, exotic. And he had the reputation as the guy to come to for the mixed drinks you can’t get anywhere else.
“How do you do it, Donn? What’s your trick. Whats the trick to making a drink?”
She leaned over her shoulder as she spoke to him with a cigarette pointed up, pale wrists exposed. She was becoming bolder, louder.
“Miss Crawford, there ain’t a trick to it. Y’just gotta know the magic behind the flavours.”
“Oh surely there’s a trick. Clark, get him to teach me how to do it!”
The man at her shoulder laughed and put a hand on her arm, calming the rogue cigarette. “There’s surely something you can do to teach her. Show us! Make us a new drink for this occasion!”
Ernest smiled at his patrons. “Sure, I’ll make ya’ll a drink. Just don’t ask me what’s in it. It’s all about the flavours. Citrus to cool you down. Rum to warm you up…”
As he spoke, he concocted a quick selection of things that would be difficult to remember. ‘Citrus juice – orange juice, lime juice for acidity and soda water to dilute. Rum – Sweet and fruity, dry and aromatic and overproof… Jamaican, Puerto Rican, demerrera op…’
“…sweetness to help it down and spice to make it last…”
‘Sweetness – honey water mix so they can taste it with the dilution. Falernum to help with the… Spice- falernum, ginger syrup, bitters.’
“Then y’just blend it t’gether. The tricky part’s the name.”
“How do you usually name them, Donn? Some distant recollection from your travels? Some wonderful native girl you promised you’d bring back with you?”
“That I do, ma’am, but tonight I’ll name it after y’all. What name did y’all book under tonight?”
“Quinton Blake and guest was the name on the door tonight, Donn.”
“Damn Clark, y’know I don’t let press in here. Too much hassle. Quinton Blake? Well this drink’s for him. QB’s Cooler.”

Within days he was all but alone. A hint of an idea to come was in the air, but not yet even that formed. It was not long, however, before he felt a pull. There was a tension in the air, someone was preparing something powerful…

It was a hot afternoon in Oakland. Usually the summers were fairly calm, but it had been a long day in an uncomfortable heat and everyone’s energy was flagging. The few regulars who’d dropped in for lunch and who could be expected to be loud and cheerful on a Friday were drooped, exhausted by the day. It was a surprise, then, when Carrie bowled into the restaurant, exclaiming “This weather is incredible. I love the west coast. It’s so refreshingly warm. Vic, how lovely to see you. Wow, drinks, Vic, we needs drinks and we need drinks now.”
The man behind the bar laughed, and peg-leg’ed his way out of the bar to greet his old friends.
“Ham, Carire, good to see you both. When did you arrive? I thought you were coming at Christmas this year?”
“Oh, we needed a quick dose of civilisation. It’s so boring back home. Besides, we missed you, darling. We need a Vic original today. Something new and amazing to celebrate old friends re-united. “
“If any other person demanded that, I wouldn’t know what to say. As it’s you, I’ll say this. No-one else inspires me to make a drink than you do. A new drink! Let’s see…”
Limeade is great on hot days, he thought. A citrusy, rummy, sweet drink… Something like a knickerbocker, but spicier and punchier. Like a QB Cooler. But shorter. What rum? Something oaky and sweet and fruity… Wray and Nephew! Perfect. But more… body and earth, an agricole… with something sweet and aromatic… Orgeat. Taste… Sweeten. Perfect.’
The man quickly assembled the ingredients as he nodded sagely at Carrie’s prattle. The quick shake to the sound of a 4-step and the drink was prepared. He dumped it into a glass and put mint in for aroma, and served his concoctions to his guests.
‘What do you think, Carrie? Do I still have it?”
“Oh, Maita’I roa ae! Out of this world – the best! What do you call it?”
“My dear, that’s just it. Mai Tai. Out of this world.”

He felt a deep pull at the name. ‘Mai Tai’. He felt his shape solidify as he became recipe, then drink, then a name. He slowly faded from the old reality. But he felt another presence behind him. Very like him, but young, and not yet formed…

“Make us your favourite cocktail.”
“Oh no, I can’t. I don’t have a favourite. They’re like my children. I love them all equally.”
The blonde on his left said, “What about Toblerones and French martinis?”
With a smile, “Well…Whew. Probably good I’m not a parent.”
The joke made its mark, and the girls laughed. He was in his element. The two girls had walked in off the street and asked to see a menu. They were clearly waiting for a table at one of the nearby restaurants, because they were dressed too well to be out for a stroll. He’d seated them and given them menus, and it wasn’t long before he saw them looking confusedly at their menus. He’d strolled over and sat down with them and that’s how he’d found himself with two girls demanding his attention.
“Ok. So. If you tie me down, gun to head, all time favourite straight off the top of my head, Mai Tai.”
“Ohh, what’s in that?”
“Oh… No, its not an ingredients thing. Everyone makes their Mai Tai’s differently. It’s a story thing. It’s a flavour thing. It’s a guy’s drink in a girl’s drink guise. It’s strong, sour, sweet, dry. Complex, bitter at times… It’s the god of rum drinks. It’s got everything you need and want in a rum cocktail and the way you make it speaks as to the sort of man you think of yourself. Once I was aware of that, my Mai Tais are perfect. They’re me in a glass.”
“We’ll have two. But they’d better be good.”
“Hey, come on. I’m this good. At their worst, they’re still gonna be good.”

A jigger of Appleton Estate 12yr old for body, fruit and oak. Half an ounce of Vsop Rhum Agricole and orange curacao. Quarter ounce of home made orgeat syrup – beautiful mix of almond meal and almonds grinded with honey and orange blossom water. An ounce of fresh squeezed lime juice. A luxury to be wished for would be key-limes, with their high sourness and low bitterness, they are incomparable. Shaken over mixed ice and dumped into a glass. Garnish with mint, and bitters.

“He looks lovely, but a taste will reveal he’s dry and sour at first but sweet at the same time. Heavy and warming, spicy and floral and just a hint of bitterness just to add to his complexity. A drink that you go back to again, but not always straight away. And you’ll always have a spot for it in your heart.”
“These are amazing!”
“I know I am. Thanks for saying it, though.”
“What do you call these things?”
“Me? I call him ‘Maimaitai’. Ir’s samaon for ‘My rum god’.”
“Oh my god, really?”
“I’ve got no idea.” He winked, and she smiled. And he said a prayer to his rum god.
He felt a deep pull at the name. He felt his shape solidify as he became recipe, then drink, then a name. He slowly faded from the old reality, into the new.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Bar Show Week and the Bartender of the Year comp.

I'm going to take a step away from the usual stuff that I write to do a little bit of self-induglent boasting. Last week was the 10th Australian Barshow, and included in this seminar/conference was a number of competitions and the like. The big one of the year for any aspiring bartender was the Australian Bartender Magazine's Bartender of the Year competition - the reason I started taking the job seriously in the first place. This year was my first year competing in the comp, and as far as things go, I feel I went pretty damn well.

I'll be honest, I'd been anticipating the competition for a couple of weeks, but that came down more to the fact that everyone from Australian hospitality guts their bars to a very bare skeleton crew so that everyone not stuck at work can converge on Sydney for a week of extreme looseness. This year, I was looking forward to seeing old friends like: Rory Lim (SCRYBL, for those in the know); Adam Brewer; the Bowery boys; the Laruche lads; Shay Leighton, Papi (Karel Reyes) - The Brisbane Massive, essentially, as well as my best mate Lukey. The prospect of sitting the exam to be in the running for Bartender of the Year was also turning my stomach. It was the opportunity to apply all the (effectively useless) knowledge that I'd accrued over the previous year of hard-out studying. What were my other options, really? Start a blog to teach people who probably already know alot about booze my interpretations on it? As if that'd work!


Douche-bag behaviour

The start of Barshow week was Sunday, where everyone else cracked down to Cafe Pacifico for the Bartender Brunch that Phil Bayly (owner of the wonderful tequila bar and mexican restaurant down in Surry Hills) and myself and my housemate Tash Sorensen chilled at home cleaning up and saying hi to Ron (Zacapa, that is). We later bailed and cruised to Eau De Vie for the final round of Bar Trivia. Because I'd jumped jobs during the year, I wasn't actually in a team for the finals, so I just sat in with the Press Club guys - Brewer, Jordan Harris and Ryan Lane. These are cats that I learnt alot from when I was first starting out, so it was nice to chill out with them show them a little bit of the stuff that I'd learnt in the previous 12 months after leaving Press. Turns out it wasn't a small amount, as our team effort landed us second place (behind Black Pearl) and scored us a bottle of Ketel One vodka and the now defunct Johnnie Walker Gold Label, centenary edition. Props and thankyou to Gregg Sanderson and Chris Hysted, this year's winners of the comp, and their generous donation of their bottle of Jose Cuervo Reserva de Platino - the shots were well received guys.

I called it soon after this, and myself and Brewer cruised home and did a wee bit of studying for the exam in the morning before hitting the hay. While I chilled in my room, doing a bit of casual relaxation therapy (read: drinking), Tash and the ever popular, ever entertaining Papa Chocolate (read: Rory Lim) came home.


Papa Chocolate
 I hadn't seen Rory since our days living together in the LadPad in Brisbane, so it was a great pleasure to catch up with him again and shoot some breeze about what had been happening in our respective lives. Then it was off to sleep to get some repast before I ended up being too hungover for the next day.

The actual competition was a bit overwhelming at first. Myself, Brewer, Rory and our mutual friend (and ex-barmanager) Chris Geddes all went for a spot of breakfast to take the edge off our anxiety, or at least thats what I felt we were doing. After a bit of dutch courage (well, eggs benedict - it has holland-aise sauce, right?), we all turned up at the Argyle in Sydney's rocks district.
I'm going to be brave as fuck after this.
There was a massive crowd hanging outside the main archway/gate, populated by a lot of the heavy weights of the Australian bar industry, but there were also a few names that were prominent in their absence. Martin Lange, Ryan Noreiks, Dustin Davis, Neilsen Braid... Was Andy Griffiths there? I'm not sure, I didn't see him. Nor did I see Mitch Kings, Jimmy from the Bentley turned up late. Timmy Zosh (I will admit, most of these cats are Brisbane boys, but give me a break. Brisbane is home) - I have to admit I was feeling more confident about making the top 20. We were all ushered through to the bar and then upstairs to take a seat and an exam. Simon Mcgoram (ex-editor of Australian Bartedner Mag) ran us through the rules and gave us all an anxiety spike by saying it was going to be a damn hard exam, and then we flipped the page and started writing.

I finished the exam first, after about 10 minutes.

I'm fully aware of how much everyone hates that guy. And I really do hate being that guy, but I walked out of that exam with a slight smile on my face, knowing full well that a whole year of studying for an exam really does make you pretty confident on the walk out.
Seriously, it's just douche-bag behaviour
There were a few questions that I missed out on, and for the life of me still have no idea of the answer to (What liquer is celebrating its 150th birthday this year? And what did the guy who started Cointreau distillery in 1849 do before he started that? If anyone wants to throw it in a comment somewhere, that'd be swell), but all in all, I felt I'd done pretty well. This was ratified when my name was read out by the Rum Ambassador to the world Ian Burrel as having made it through to the top 20 bartenders in the country. I couldn't help but keep a grin off my face when Papa Chocolate and Brewer's names were announced as well. I'd also like to give a congrats shout-out to Guy from the Carlton Yacht Club. I didn't get a chance to see him for the rest of the show, but he was a stand-out lad. I'd also like to throw a consolitory 'hard luck' to Max Greco from Eau De Vie, who missed out by a half mark. That guy can mix a drink, so it sucked to see him left out.

The second round of the comp was a blind tasting and a service round. They kept us all in a little back room and called us all out one at a time to go and do our due, so there were a few shenanigans happening back of house as we all waited to be let out. Rory took the chance to do a bit of meditating before he went out, so I followed suit and imagined myself going out there and killing it. When it was my time to go out, I felt more confident walking behind the bar than I usually do when I'm at work. I felt at peace, and at home, and ready to crack a few jokes. The service round this year, we were all required to make a White Lady (gin, cointreau and lemon juice, usually with a dash of egg white, but we didn't have any), a G&T and a Dark & Stormy (again, usually with Goslings, but we only had the Mt. Gay range to play with). They didn't tell us what they'd be scoring us on, so I just did my thing. I paid special attention to my process and technique, but didn't let that take over my service. I had a bit of a chat, had a bit of a laugh and did a bit of salesmanship to really improve the drinks that I was pushing. I think this more than anything contributed to my feeling of confidence as I walked out of the bar and into the blind tasting. It was here that my confidence abandoned me. We were required to taste 3 beers (I don't really drink much beer), 3 sparklings (I don't do champagne, either) and 3 white spirits (... I don't really need to say it, do I). I left those ones to the fates (the beers were Pilsener Urquell, Coopers Sparkling Ale and Stones Ginger beer, sparklings were Magners Pear, Charles Heidsek and Muscato and the spirits were Stoli elite, sagatiba pura and mozart dry).
Wait... I think its... What is that?

The rest of Monday was dedicated to getting loose with a bunch of bartenders while our marks were consolidated and compared and all those other things that judges have to do. I'm pretty sure that forcing anticipation is an integral part of every competition, so we were left waiting til 8pm that night before we found out the results. Again, Ian Burrel was enlisted to read the roll. The top 10 this year were (in the order that I can remember them):

1. Adam Brewer from Cloudland - A very knowledgable and professional bartender, and a good mate. Winner of this year's Australian World Class.

2. Chris Denman from Surf Club - A down-to-earth bloke and very approachable. Mixes a mean Trilby.

3. Gerald Faundez from X&Y - Don't really know this cat, but I've seen him mix drinks and he knows his shit.

4. Nick Edwards from The Lark - Previous runner up in 2008 and all round loose cannon. Has much love for whisky, which almost makes him a soulmate.

5. Reece Griffiths from Victoria Room - One of the cool cats from Sydney. Awesome sense of humour that shines behind the bar, and owner of one of the coolest tats I've ever seen.

6. Lee Potter Cavanagh from Victoria Room - Previous finalist and manager of VR. Big fan of his rums and sports a massive moustache. Go and ask him about his role as Ambassador of Punch.

7. Nathan Beasley from Black Pearl - I met Nathan really for the first time at Bar Show, but I've been privvy to most of his privvy parts thanks to my housemate's Black Pearl Nude Calendar. Going by his bio, seems like a cool guy.

8. Mick Edmunds from Leftbank and Siglo - Ex-Bowery boy, so he gets much love from the Brisbane Massive. Finalist from last year, and mixed my favourite drink in last year's comp.

9. Jason Williams from Galley Room - 'Widget', as everyone seems to know him by, is a very cool cat. Had a few chats with him over the course of the show, and he seemed very down to earth. Very keen to drop in for a few at his new joint down in Melbourne. He's placed third for the past two years.

10. Yours truly.

Anyway guys, this one has gone on beyond its due. I'll throw up another post in a few days detailing part two of the Bartender of the Year comp, and throw down my recipes for my drinks I presented. In the meant time, I leave you with this.

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Fermentation - How it all works

I briefly touched on concepts like distillation and fermentation in my last two pieces, but deliberately glossed over them because an understanding of the concepts isn't really vital to understanding whisky. However, it is worth noting that to appreciate the finer differences in many spirits, beers and wines, it is worth understanding the process of turning anything in the world containing sugars into delicious alcohol.
Fermentation is the beginning of the process. Ferment comes from the latin word fervere, which means to boil. This is is a bit of a confusing origin, as their is no boiling that occurs during fermentation. However! Fermentation, while happening in massive vats for the creation of a spirit, does create carbon dioxide, which bubbles to the surface of the liquid, which cause it to froth (as if the liquid were boiling, and hence the term).

Fermentation all starts with little fungi called yeast. Unlike other fungi like mushrooms which grow from nutrients in the ground, or parasically on the sides of other plants using the plant's energy for food, yeast is more like a 4 year old child at Easter. All it wants to eat is sugar. Unlike 4 year old at Easter, however, yeasts's waste products after consuming sugar are alcohol, heat and carbon dioxide.

Not a good home-brew investment

When introduced to a sugary liquid, yeast will start to break down any sugar molecules (including longer chain molecules like starches and carbohydrates which are complex sugars). While breaking these down, the yeast will create ethyl alcohol (as well as several undrinkable alcohols like methyl alcohol), as well as acids, esters and fusel oils which all contribute to the aroma and flavour of the alcoholic beverage that results. It will also create heat in small amounts, and carbon dioxoide (which is why beer and champagne are fizzy. The carbon dioxide is captured in either the barrel it is fermented in, or the bottle it is fermented in). When all the sugar has been turned into alcohol, the yeast cells start to starve and die. You know the sediment at the bottom of a Coopers Pale Ale stubby? That sediment is the left over yeast from the fermentation process. Most of the major commercial breweries will sell their left over yeast sediment as yeast extract to make everyone's favourite breakfast spread, too (which should be a great way to get your kids to eat more of it!).


Another good parenting technique

Beer and wine are the most common fermented beverages that we drink. The reason that most wines aren't carbonated is because the carbon dioxide is allowed to escape while it is fermented, because the vats are open topped. Most modern beers are artificially carbonated as well by the time we get to drinking them, but they do have natural bubbles to them.

The differences in flavour in fermented drinks is determined by two things: the source of the sugar and the strain of yeast. It stands to reason that wine, which is made from grapes, is going to taste different to beer, which is made from barley grains. This goes for all fermented drinks. Different varietals of grapes will taste different on their own, and will therefore taste different when they are fermented. However, the strain of yeast that does the fermenting is going to change the flavour slightly too.

Some popular brands that you regularly drink will hold that their super secret yeast strain is the key to the flavour profile of their beverage. Jim Beam bourbon, Bacardi rum - these guys are really proud of their yeast strain. According to the Bacardi master distiller, all the flavours that you can possibly create for booze come from that first important step of fermentation. The strain of yeast used is responsible for the creation of those flavours. Some yeast strains act really quickly on the sugars, resulting in a fast, hot fermentation period. This quick process doesn't allow many flavours to develop. However, a longer fermentation period (some Jamaican rums like Appleton Estate have ferments that last for almost a week) will cause lots of esters to form, hence, more flavours and aromas.

There are lots of factors that will affect the end result in a fermented drink. Yeast is a living organism, and as such, will die if it is exposed to undesireable environments. One of these is alcohol itself! Yeast cells start to die if the alcohol content of the liquid they are in reaches about 18% (which is why you won't get wine or beer that is higher than this. Most wines only go to about 14 - 16%, and most beer is to around 8% max), but typically fermentation will be ceased well before this point. Other things like too much heat or not enough will also cause yeast cells to die. They will also exhaust themselves by trying to consume too much sugar at once (similar to that 4 year old at Easter - come lunch time they all have sore tummies really, really just want a fucking carrot or something).

So really, in a nutshell, think of fermentation like this.
Step 1: Add water and sugar and yeast together in a bucket.
Step 2: ????
Step 3: Profit! (In the form of alcohol)


Master home brewers

Drink on.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Whisky - its definitely moreish.

Irish Whisky

Ireland is the motherland of whisky. Long before the scots starting distilling their version of the malty spirit, the Irish had perfected it. The only reason we know Scotland as the founding father of whisky is because of Prohibition in America, where the newly popular blended whiskies were imported as bootleg liquor over the long standing Irish preference. As far as taste goes, Irish and Scottish whiskies are very similar, with only a few small variations contributing to the difference in flavour.

Irish whisky, as opposed to its Scottish counterpart, is triple distilled instead of double distilled. This simply refers to the amount of times the spirit is run through the still. I mentioned earlier that whisky is made from beer, but its a tiny bit more complicated than simply crossing your fingers and wishing your beer into delicious whisky.
Early leprechaun distillation was fraught with problems

Your local lager down the pub, at full strength, is about 5% alcohol by volume. That means that the rest of the liquid is water. To make a whisky (which is much more alcoholic than just beer), the alcohol needs to be seperated from the water. Ethyl alcohol, the stuff that makes us so interesting and fun and amazing in bed, evaporates at around 76 degrees celcius. Water, as we know, boils at 100 degrees. So, if an alcoholic beverage is heated to 76 degrees, the alchol turns into gas and evaporates, leaving most of the water behind. The process of distillation is simply catching the evaporating, delicious alcohol as it evaporates and cooling it down again til its a liquid, drinkable form. After distilling once, what was once beer at 5% (actually, distillers beer is usually between 6-12%. It's also flat and doesn't have any hoppy bitterneses to it, but... you get the idea) will be alchol at approximately 30%. Do it again and the spirit will be approximately 70%. By distilling more and more times, you strip more water and get clean alcohol. When we distill though, there is a small percentage of impurities in the liquid that are essentially flavouring agents. These flavouring agents gradually lessen the higher in alcohol the liquid becomes, creating a lighter and (argueably smoother) beverage. So, a 60% alcohol will have more flavour to it than an 80% alcohol will. At 96% alcohol, you'll have vodka, with no flavour or smell at all. This is essentially the key difference between scottish and irish whisky. Scottish whisky is distilled (with loads of those flavouring agents) at approximately 60% alcohol. Irish is distilled to approximately 80%. When it comes out of the barrel and into the bottle, they add water to it so both scottish and irish whisky will be at approximately 40% alcohol, 60% water by the time you get your lips around it.

This doesn't necessarily mean that Irish whisky has less flavour than scottish whisky. It simply means that the whisky made will be a little bit lighter on the palate. Think of it as cordial. Scottish whisky is cordial with a bit less water, so its really strong and sweet. Add a bit more water and it become a little less strong, a bit lighter and easier to drink. Make sense? Its ok if its a little confusing, because the only real thing you need to know is how they differ in taste. An Irish whisky will be less pungent, with softer flavours that are easier to drink. It still tastes like whisky, though, and that is what is important. Remember how I talked about malting the barley so that there is more sugar to turn into whisky? Well, Irish whisky will also occasionally use unmalted barley as well as malted barley. This creates a bit of difference in flavour as well. If you were ever had a grandfather that served in the army and kept his medals and things in a special box, you may have noticed the smell of linseed oil that he used to keep them shiny and nice. Unmalted barley gives whisky the smell of your grandad's medal box. That's the only noticeable difference.

There are only 3 distilleries in Ireland. Of the whiskies they make, only a few are readily available in Australia, and really only two that bars will stock. One is Jamesons (everyone's go-to Irish whisky) and one is Bushmills. Depending on how you pray, Jamesons is for the cats with a lot of guilt and confessing of sins, and Bushmills is for the cats who drink tea and chat with the reverend. Overall, they are both delicious offerings. The Bushmills, especially the Black Bush, alwyas reminds me of sultana bran. Lots of malt notes with hints of dried fruit and chocolate. Jamesons has a nice malty flavour and is quite light on the palate as well. Horses for courses, really, but I stick to my Catholic upbringing when it comes to Irish whiskies. You should, of course, go for whichever one tickles your fancy. Other noteable Irish whiskies are Tullamore Dew (lots of Grandad's medal cabinet) and Tyrconnel (why are you spending $80 on a whisky I didn't even really describe).

Canadian Whisky
The real shame about Canadian whisky (as an Australian bartender and boozehound) is that the only Canadian whisky that is easy to get ahold of is Canadian Club. If you find a boutique-y little bottleshop, you might be lucky to find some Crown Royal, but thats about it. However, that doesn't mean that Canadian whisky isn't a tasty beverage. After sipping on a Candian Club 18yr old, you'll agree with me.
Canadian whiskies take influence from a few different schools of whisky to create a style that is unique to the maple-leafers. Earlier I mentioned that the whisky you drink is going to taste like what its made from. Well, here is where Canadian whiskies differ from Scotch.

Canadian whiskies do make their beer out of barley grains. But they also make it from rye grains, corn grains and wheat grains as well! Each of these different beers then gets distilled seperately into a little whisky all of its own. These whiskies are then blended together in different proportions to create the stuff you get in the bottle. The cool thing about this is that all the different distilleries in Canada (I'm pretty confident there are about 8 of them) will create blends with different proportions of rye whisky, barley whisky, corn whisky and wheat whisky to make a really diverse realm of flavours. Add on top of that the different ages they get bottled at and you can see that there are loads of whiskies to try. Canadian whiskies tend to be similar to Irish whiskies as far as the weight of the spirit. They're usually quite light and dry and they always have that sexy little peppery spiciness from the rye whisky (which is why it taste so damn good with ginger ale!).

American Whisky
I've got a big smile on my face as I write this, because I must admit, I am a sucker for American whiskies. Scotch holds a place in my heart and I do love her, but straight bourbon and rye are the sexy nymphs that throw themselves at me. Despite my protests of devotion to scotch, whenever I'm out, I always end up sipping a bourbon (just not in view of Ardbeg. I don't need to put her through that).

Could you upset something so lovely?

Bourbons have such a rich array of flavours and there is such a diverse range of styles to choose from draws me to them. You can guaruntee that each bottle will have sexy vanilla and oaky notes to them, and you can bet your bottom dollar that you'll get some stone fruits or berries playing through the sweetness as well. Here, most definitely, is a spirit that needs to be enjoyed without coke. Sip on a Wild Turkey 8yr old or some Buffalo Trace and you'll understand my meaning.

Straight Bourbon
So! What is it that makes a bourbon a bourbon? The Americans have actually put in a very strict and rigorous set of rules that must be adhered to for a whisky made in the states to be called a bourbon, but it's somewhat technical. Here's the cliffnotes. Again, bourbon is made from beer, the interesting thing about bourbon is that its not just a single grain that makes the beer. To be bourbon, the beer needs to be made up of a majority of corn, and will also always have a small proportion of barley. The rest can be any make up of grains. Some distillers decide to use rye grains, some like to use wheat and there are one or two that decide to use corn, wheat, rye and barley! The bourbons that use rye have a tendency to be a bit spicy (think of Wild Turkey or Woodford Reserve) and bourbons that use wheat tend to be a bit softer and sweeter (Makers Mark is the main offender here, although the Pappy Van Winkle range is also a wheated bourbon and is really, really good). The other big contributer to the flavour of the end product is the whisky needs to be aged in new charred American oak barrels.

The ageing process isn't something I've gone into much because its kind of complicated. When booze comes out of the still, it is a clear spirit. The reason that whisky is such a dark colour is because of the time it spends resting in barrels (the age statement on bottles refers to how long the spirit lay in barrels. It won't improve at all once it goes into the bottle, so don't try and age that bottle of Johnnie Black - it don't work that way!). Have you ever spilt oil, or heaven forbid blood, on untreated wood? Did you notice how, even after you wipe it off, it leaves a patch in the wood that won't come out? That's because wood is porous - it breathes in and out. So when whisky is put in the barrels, it starts to sink into the wood on the inside of the barrel. As the weather warms up, the liquid expands and pushes even further into the wood. Then, when it cools, it contracts and sucks back out of the wood. While the whisky is in the wood, it picks up flavour and colour and leaves behind some of the rough edges of the alcohol. That's basically how ageing works. The charring of the barrel is essential for the process to work properly - it doesn't give the whisky a burnt flavour, so don't stress. What the whisky does get from the new barrels is a vanilla flavour, similar to the way vanilla extract tastes.

There are dozens of bourbons available on the market, and there are some truly nice ones at bargain prices, if you know where to look. It comes down to what flavours you like in your bourbon as to what you should buy. One thing to note is that some bourbons will have 'small-batch' or 'single-barrel' on the label. These are usually the high-end bourbons and their price reflects the quality. Typically, these bourbons will be a little bit stronger than normal (make sure you check the abv - alcohol by volume - on the label) but that's a good thing. The higher the alcohol content, the more flavour that will carry through from the spirit. This is different from the higher the alcohol is distilled to, so don't confuse the two. Once its in the bottle, it has already been cut with water and doesn't necessarily mean that its going to be light tasteing.

Once bourbon comes off the still, nothing but water can be added to it until it goes into the bottle you drink it from. This raised a bit of contention when the big name behind the next category, Tennessee whiskies, decided to start filtering his whisky before ageing.

Tennessee Whisky
Tennessee whisky is really a small category. There are only two distilleries making Tennessee whisky - George Dickel and Jack Daniels. Have you ever wondered why JD tastes so different to other bourbons? If you scope the side of a bottle, it tells you the difference, but I'll throw it down now so you don't have to check one of the many, many bottles you (if you're anything like me) have lying around your house. It mentions that the whisky is mellowed by passing through 14 feet of sugar maple charcoal. Charcoal is basically the most effective form of filtration that you can use with alcohol. Have you ever heard of someone getting poisoned and eating an activated charcoal tablet? Charcoal soaks up loads of different impurities (I'm not really sure why - it's science!), so when the whisky gets passed through the charcoal, it has the effect of removing some of the undesireable impurities in the whisky. It does, however, leave the whisky with a very prominent maple-syrup taste. Its because of this that JD isn't considered a bourbon. It is, however, considered to be delicious.

Serving suggestion

Rye Whisky
Rye whisky is bourbon's counterpart. Where bourbon is all vanilla and sweetness with a hint of spice, rye whisky is all vanilla, spice and everything else nice.

Rye whisky

 It's almost identical to bourbon, the only exception is that the beer that its made from is made up of a majority rye grains instead of corn. Think of 100% ryegrain bread, that nice peppery bite it has? That's what rye whisky is all about. If you can find a bottle of the Wild Turkery rye, do it. Otherwise, the Rittenhouse is awesome stuff and super cheap.

And that's about it! There are a few other whiskies that get made in a few different countries, but for the most part they just take a leaf out of the scots book and make malt whisky. There are some cool offerings coming out of Tasmania if you're interested in Australian whisky (check out The Lark's bottlings. They are all single-barrel, high abv whiskies and taste amazing). Otherwise guys, as I always say: "Drink, drink and be merry."

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Wait... What? Whisky?


I love whisky. If its made from a grain and put in a barrel (no aged vodkas, thanks), chances are I'll take to a bottle of it with relish and a reckless abandon unseemly for someone whose job hinges on serving alcohol responsibly. Be it a small-batch bourbon, smoky single malt or bonnie blend, I'll hold it in the highest regard. Japanese or canadian, Irish or Australian i'll have it neat and make it a double. It's because of my passion for whisky that I'm often caught off-guard whilst behind the stick by people placing the most innocuous of orders. Asking for a whisky and coke, or a single-malt scotch. What are they asking me for? A whisky and coke, even with rail spirits, could be any one of several bottles. Do they want bourbon? Tennessee? Canadian? Scotch? And how hollow is the request for a single-malt. Again, the options are almost limitless (depending on your backbar). What is it about whisky that makes it so confusing?

Even as a blossoming bartender, it took me a long time to wrap my head around the world of whisky. I read dozens of definitions and explanations behind terms like 'single-malt' and 'small-batch', spent hours trying to understand the blending processes of Canadian whisky and knocked my head against the wall trying to understand what made a Tennessee whisky different from a bourbon. Now, years on, I realise that the people I serve week in, week out, have the same level of knowledge as me when I first walked behind a bar. They might not know what makes them different, but they might just be passionate enough to learn.

So! Fie, I say, to the confusion surrounding my favourite dram. In an effort to reach those youngsters jumping at the gate trying to understand whisky, a thorough and easy to understand explanation of what whisky is.

Single Malt Scotch

I think the easiest way to explain the major differences between whiskies is just what they are made from. All whiskies are made from beer (Yes! Carlton Draught stole their "Made from beer" marketing campaign from hundreds of years of whiskymaking).
Pictured: Thieves

The flavour of the whisky is determined from the sort of beer made. Single Malt scotch is made from barley beer - essentially the lager you drink every weekend. The term 'malt' in 'single malt' refers to malted barley, which is barley that has started to sprout. This sprouting is just a way for the whisky makers to get more alcohol out of the beer they brew, and hence, more whisky. The term 'Single' means that the whisky in the bottle came from a single distillery. String'em together, and you get:

The whisky in this bottle is made entirely from sprouted barley grains that was distilled in one distillery only.

Easy, huh? That is single malt whisky in a nutshell. Outside of the nutshell, there is a world of differences. There are a total of 93 malt whisky distilleries in Scotland, and every distillery makes a completely unique whisky. There are similarities between the styles of whisky made, however, and they are grouped together into categories based on the way they taste.

Speyside

These delicious little badboys are typified by 'honey and heather' characteristics. You know that nice sweet flavour you get across your tongue when you sip a bit of Glenfiddich? That's speyside. The big names like Glenfiddich, The Glenlivet and Macallan are all speyside whiskies. Nice and approachable, but each one differring whilst retaining the honey and heather flavours. There are more distilleries in the speyside region than any other, so you have a lot to choose from.

Islay

Islay (pronounced eye-la) whiskies are almost the polar opposite of speyside whiskies. Think of the nice smoky flavour left in your mouth after sipping on Johnnie Walker Black. That's Islay. These whiskies are all very pungent smelling, full on flavour experiences. Typically said to smell of peat or smoke (peat is coal that hasn't had the opportunity to solidify under pressure yet. It's all over Scotland, and the scots used it as firewood), some bottlings can leave you feeling like you have managed to drink a glass of forest fires. These whiskies have historically been considered a conosuers choice, however many younger drinkers are finding they have a weakness for a smokey scotch (not a bad thing at all). Laphroigh, Bowmore and Ardbeg are all Islay scotches, and all worth a try.

I'll quickly take a second to explain how scotches get that classic smokey flavour. While malting (getting the barley to sprout), the barley grains are soaked with water to trick the grain into thinking its time to start growing. They then start to convert all their saved starches into sugars for the plant to use as energy to grow into a big barley stalk of its very own. Sugar is what we get alcohol from, so the more sugars instead of starches that are available to be turned into booze, the better. After a few days of starting to grow, however, the plant will start to use the sugar it converted. This is stopped by heating the grain up and evaporating all the moisture present inside. This will trick the seed into going dormant again. Back in the old days, this heating process was done in big kilns, and it was the smoke that would dry out the grains, not the flame. Because the barley was exposed to the smoke, it would take on a little of the flavour (sort of like the way that your clothes always seem to end up smelling of cigarettes after a night out whether or not you smoke). The fire that they used to smoke the grain was fuelled by peat. Nowdays, only a few distilleries still do any of their own malting, for the most part they just buy their barley pre-malted from commercial maltsters.

Lowland

There aren't too many lowland scotches available these days, so if you get a chance to try one give it a go. Lowland scotches are historically similar to Irish whisky - they are nice, light and floral. The big flavour factors with lowland whiskies are grassy and floral notes with little or no smoke to them at all. If you just keep in mind that its going to be less of an intense flavour than a speyside, you'll be fine. The only really easy to find lowland whisky is Glenkinchie (although there are others. Try the Aucentoshan triple wood if you get the chance).

Highland

The highlands whiskies show alot of diversity (not surprising considering this 'region' covers half of the country!). The light, fruity Glenmorangie is drastically different from the cereal and orange driven Oban. The highland region is the 'misc' pile of distilleries that didn't fit into any other specific style. By and large, however, they aren't as smokey as Islays but smokier than a lowland; still have heather and honey flavours but not as pronounced as speysides and don't have the oily weight of Campbletown whiskies.

Campbletown

Campbletown was at one point the whisky capital of scotland. No so, anymore, unfortunately. The easist Campbletown malt whisky to find on the shelf is the Springbank 10yr old. Campbletown whiskies are stylistically nice, heavy, oily textured whiskies with a bit of a tickle of smoke to them. These are my favourite whiskies to match with a cigar on a balcony somewhere, Denny Crane style.

Islands

The islands are similar to the highland whiskies, in that they all show very different characteristics. The consistent theme, however, is their marine notes. Most of the island whiskies show hints of salt or brine which is a consequence of the whiskies ageing in warehouses close enough to the sea that the salt-laden winds gently sink through the barrel's pores while the whiskies age. The two big players in this region are Tallisker- a delicious, oily, iodiney, stonefruity whisky and Highland Park - a floral and slightly smokey drop.

Blended Scotch

Blended scotches are, by and large, probably what you think of when someone mentions scotch. Johnnie Walker, Chivas, J&B, Ballantines - these are all blended whisky. What sets a blended whisky and a single malt whisky apart is the blending process. Where single malt whiskies do indeed get blended, they are only blended with whiskies from the same distillery. Blended whiskies get constructed with whiskies from potentially dozens of different distilleries, including whisky from a grain distillery (not malt whisky distillery) that makes whisky from either wheat or corn. If there is an age statement on the bottle (as in Chivas 12yr), every whisky included in the bottle will be at least 12 years old, including the grain whisky. The reason that grain whisky was originally added to malt whiskies was to make a lighter style of tipple that could be appreciated by people unused to the strong flavours of malt whiskies.

The cool thing about blended whiskies is the complex products that can be constructed. A couple of speyside whiskies, the touch of an islay for smoke, a splash of an island whisky across a light, grain whisky pallette and voila! A whisky that would have been unachievable through distillation alone. Blended whiskies are often pooh-poohed, considered inferior in quality to a malt, but think of it like this. Millions of cases of blended whiskies are sold every year, much, much more whisky than any one malt whisky distillery could produce. Whilst considering that, also consider that most malt distilleries only sell a small amount of their whisky as a single malt - the bulk of it gets sold to blenders. The blended whisky market keeps single malt distilleries alive, and when you consider that bottles like Johnny Walker Blue and Chivas Regal 25yr old are both blended whiskies, you'll understand my point. Blended whiskies are the unsung heroes of the scotch whisky market.

Vatted Whiskies

This particular category is quite small within scotch, but it is worth mentioning briefly. Vatted whiskies are blended whiskies without the grain whisky. Or another way of saying it, they are single malt whiskies from several distilleries blended together. They can no longer be called single malt (remember that bit about being from a single distillery?), so they a called vatted malts instead. Johnnie Walker Green is probably the most popular vatted whisky.

Japanese Whiskies

Despite the apparent incongruity, I'm going to follow up talking about Scotch whisky with Japanese whisky. A fairly new arrival on the whisky market (they've been producing whisky since 1923), Japan produces some fantastic tasting whiskies. They are, for the most part, fairly light, unpeated (or not smokey) whiskies with a floral sweetness and a hint of spice. Japan produces both single malt whiskies such as Yamazaki and Hyakku and also have a single blended whisky on the market named Hibiki. If you think of Japanese whisky as another region of scotch, I wouldn't judge.

So! That for the most part is Scotch whisky and its little brother Japanese whisky. I've got more to go up, but for now, pour yourself three fingers of Ardbeg with some cracked pepper and a side of cheese (I call it a Burgundy) and enjoy!

The man has a point.