Friday Five: Four Whiskies and a Gin (Okay, it's few more, but who's counting? Hic!)

Still at Ardbeg (in my dreams...)

I have mentioned previously how much I like whisky, so it should be no surprise that this was one of the main reasons for visiting Islay and Jura last year. Because I couldn't possibly pick favourites, I have listed the whiskies we tried in alphabetical order.

Ardbeg

10 Yr Old - Named World Whisky of the Year in 2008, this is a bench mark for the smokeheads. There is peat for sure, but there is also oak, vanilla, seasalt, black pepper, chocolate, toffee, cinnamon and nutty malt. But mainly there is peat.

An Oa - In the summer of 2017 An Oa became the fist addition to Ardbeg's core range in over ten years. It is designed to show 'a more approachable side to Ardbeg single malt' and it is indeed very quaffable with subtle citrus notes and a hint of butterscotch to soften the peat. It is aged in a mixture of Pedro Ximinez, charred oak and ex-bourbon barrels so has picked up some delicious honey treacle flavours, while the palate displays, 'notes of cigars and golden syrup flapjacks, with sweet black tea and hints of chocolate limes.'

Corryvrekan - Having stumbled through peat bogs and driving rain to see the whirlpool after which this is named, we felt we definitely deserved our tastings of its namesake. It boasts, 'swirling aromas and torrents of deep, peaty, peppery taste lurk beneath the surface of this beautifully balanced dram. Like the whirlpool itself, Corryvrekan is not for the faint-hearted!' I'm happy to strengthen my cardiovascular system by the fire in the pub with a few of these before bed.

Perpetuum- Ardbeg Day is held on the final Saturday of the Fèis Ìle music and whisky festival on Islay, and a special expression of whisky is released by the distillery. In 2015 to celebrate its 200th anniversary, Ardbeg released 12,000 bottles of Perpetuum. It was a vatting of young and old Ardbeg from ex-bourbon and sherry casks. It was endlessly complex with fresh, rich smoky vanilla cream, smouldering pine, cocoa and vanilla (with the signature peat and sea spray). It was fantastic and I think it's all gone.

Uigeadail - hilariously unpronounceable (hilarious to the Scots; unpronounceable to everyone else), the word Uigeadail refers to the loch from which all Ardbeg water flows. This cask-strength, heavily-peated  whisky is produced from a mix of bourbon and older sherry casks, resulting in a velvety sweet and smokey dram. It's both sweet and salty with hints of spearmint and seaweed. People attempt to outdo each other with descriptors. My favourite are 'marmalade scents over menthol and sweet cedar smoke'; 'like standing downwind of the barbecue while steaks are char-grilled on the beach'; 'very smooth, then explodes on the tongue'; 'at once dry and sooty, then tarry and finally kippery on the finish'; 'a shock to the system'.

Bowmore

10yr - produced for the travel retail market, this interesting blend of Spanish oak sherry casks and hogsheads results in a fine balance between classic coastal Islay smoke and sherry sweetness. Those happy trippers get a dark golden drop with fruitcake flavours, rum warmth, chocolate depth and ever-present sea salt.

15yr - Like the above but more so. It ramps up the chocolate, raisins and cinnamon, with spicy treacle toffee and wood-smoke.

Bruichladdich 

Bruiachladdich Islay Barley - Single malt, single barley variety, single harvest and even a single field; this is whisky doing 'terroir'. Citrus, apple, salt - all clean flavours (no peat) and matured in American oak. It's experimental; it's different; and it's excellent!

Octomore 10.2 - This is from Bruichladdich's heavily peated range. Sometimes I feel the need to ramp up the PPM (parts per million) is no more than a pissing contest, but this is sublime. Supposedly this series of releases is meant to showcase the softer smoke (although it still settles in at 96.9 PPM) and it displays honey, maple syrup and citrus zest - maybe all slightly cargrilled. The descriptor mentioned jelly babies and I was sold (actually, I wasn't as it was 126 Euro for a bottle, but I did try it). 

Port Charlotte MC (Marsala cask) - Ageing in Marsala barrels sweetens the smoky edge, resulting in a sort of salted caramel meets oily olive vibe. Maturing whisky in ex-wine casks seems to be an experiment that is paying off - I liked it a lot.

Bunnahabhain

12 Year Old Cask 1635 PX Butt - A whiff of sulphur is followed by a sherry bomb and damp wood. At 60.4% there is absolutely nothing subtle about this whisky. It has nothing to hide and is totally unashamed: this is what all the cool kids are drinking.

Palo Cortado Cask Finish - After spending 19 years slowly mellowing by the sea in traditional oak whisky casks, this delectable Bunnahabhain was then finished for almost two more years in rare Palo Cortado sherry casks. The result is a tantalising dram with a nose of fresh berries and cream, pecan and walnuts, rich oak with vanilla, and hints of dried fruit. More dried fruit, rich oak and roasted notes carry over on to the palate with subtle hints of cocoa, and it's all wrapped up with a dry nutmeg finish.

Stiúireadair - More sherry; more salt; more dried fruit. This is full of roasted nuts, cinnamon and clove spice and that tell-tale touch of the sea. It's a great Islay whisky for those who don't like aggressive peat, and it's very easy drinking - one to share with the family at Christmas.

Toiteach A Dha - Now the smoke returns; made with peated barley and combined with a higher sherry influence, we're talking rich and strong in flavour. The nose promises peatiness, sweet sherry and rich oak, and the palate delivers in spades.

Caol Ila

Distiller's Edition 2019 - This soft smoky whisky is finished in Moscatel sherry casks, which import a honeyed vanilla taste with a hint of ripe peaches and dry spices. It's a summer whisky, if you will.

Moch - The word is Gaelic for dawn or early morning; the taste is honey, citrus and lemongrass with a slightly sweet softness and peanut brittle characteristics. Supposedly it is 'the first single malt from the distillery to be selected entirely on the basis of its taste, rather than age, wood, alcohol volume or finish'. Would this be a breakfast whisky? 

Stitchell's Reserve - an unpeated release named for the distillery manager who retired after 40 years at the distillery. It's very clean and fresh although it still retains some smoke - this is an Islay whisky after all - and finishes with a lingering nutty honey sensation. A palate-cleansing aperitif before dinner I think. 

Jura

The Sound - all of Jura's whiskies have been 'toned down' from the years when we lived in the UK and drank them: they now exhibit 'subtle smoke'. We tried the travel retail range (these are the ones we'll probably be buying on our travels, after all) which are aged in Pedro Ximenez sherry casks. This one purports to have flavours of caramel fudge, black forest fruits, and milk chocolate.

The Road - The barrels in which this whisky matured previously held 20-year-old PX; there are some flavours of that still, but also the whisky itself is prominent, with a touch of apricots and bergamot on the nose and then rich coffee, toasted pistachios and cinnamon on the palate. 

The Bay - Copper gold in colour, the whisky gives off scents of toffee apple. The taste is raisins, fig, ginger spice and soft licorice.

The Loch - The sherry casks for this one previously held 30-yr-old PX and come from a single bodega. I know that the combination of stewed fruit and black treacle doesn't sound too great, but it smells divine and the coffee, tropical fruit and black pepper taste is finished off with warming spices. 

The Paps - The whisky is 19 years old; the sherry casks held 40-year-old PX; this is the pinnacle of the expressions. Powerful aromas of ginger cake and vanilla lead to a taste sensation of spiced pear, fig syrup and roasted walnut. The lingering impression is of toasted oak smokiness, hints of sea salt and a memory of biscuits baking in the family kitchen. 

I could have bought everything on this shelf (if I had the money...)

Kilchoman

All Islay - Everything about this whisky is done here on the premises from growing their own barley, floor malting, distilling, maturing and bottling. This is a showcase of the malt demonstrating all the salty freshness, lemon flavours, vanilla spices, oaky edges and smoky goodness. 

Machir Bay - citrus vanilla, layered fruit, butterscotch sweetness: it sounds like a desert, but it makes a mighty fine whisky too. Matured (mainly) in bourbon and (a small porportion of) sherry casks, it displays a balance of classic Islay character and fresh floral complexity, seasoned to perfection with cracked black pepper and sea salt. 

Sanaig - The ratio of bourbon: sherry maturation is practically reversed in this expression. Oloroso sherry casks impart the richness of dried fruit, dark chocolate, brown sugar and barbecue peat smoke one would expect, and love.

Loch Gorm - Matured exclusively in Oloroso sherry casks, this is bedtime whisky. Loch Gorm is Islay's biggest freshwater loch and has dark peat-coloured waters; one of its tributaries, the Alt Gleann Osamail burn, is where the distillery gets its production water. This combination of sherry and peat provides the best of both worlds, with my favourite review coming from the Single Malt Whisky Club; 'sweet sweet smoke with undertones of kelp-littered beach carried on wafts of hot chocolate'.

Port Cask - According to the distillery, this is 'one of our most talked-about releases in our thirteen-year history', I can see why. It pours a russet colour with a nose of red berries and Turkish Delight infused with sweet smoke. The palate is berries, dark chocolate, vanilla and sooty peat, leaving a juicy cherry-ripe finish. Sensational.

Lagavulin

2017 Jazz Festival release - Lagavulin offers punters a taste of its annual Jazz Festival release: a limited edition, cask-strength (57.6%) whisky, of which there were only 6,000 bottles produced. Their notes say the nose is licorice and peat smoke, and the taste is black pepper, peat, creamy vanilla and fruit. I'd agree with that. 

2018 Distiller's edition - packs a powerful peaty punch. Lagavulin is seen by many as the ultimate expression of the Islay region; this edition is double-matured in Pedro Ximenez cask wood. PX is derived from intensely flavoured sun-dried grapes, and that raisiny sweetness matches and accentuates the rich character of the original whisky. 

Lussa

And so we get to the gin. At Lussa, in Ardlussa at the north end of Jura, three women own and operate the distillery, which makes just the one gin from botanicals grown, gathered and distilled locally. It is fresh, zesty, smooth gin with a subtle, aromatic finish, and it is truly exceptional. 

The botanicals include lemon thyme, coriander, rose petals, lemon balm, lime flowers elder flowers, honeysuckle blooms, bog myrtle, orris root, water mint, sea lettuce, Scots pine needles, ground elder leaves, rose hips, and (of course) juniper

This all amounts to a gin like no other with woody scents, a hint of sea spray and a herby tang. The taste is all citrus notes, sherbet zing and subtle sweetness with a spicy warmth to the finish. I honestly cannot recommend this highly enough.

Goodbye to the Greek Island: The Garden of the Gods

The Garden of the Gods by Gerald Durrell

Penguin Books

Pp. 198

This is the third and final instalment in Gerald Durrell’s stories about his years in Corfu with the family, begun in My Family and Other Animals and continued in Birds, Beasts and Relatives. The tone has been set by the previous two, and this continues with more idyllic scene-setting and animal anecdotes.

These are halcyon days as the children have outstanding freedom in their unaccompanied travels: Gerry potters about in his boat; Margo swans off to the mainland; Leslie wanders the countryside with guns; Larry invites complete strangers to come and stay at their villa.

Gerald Durrell has a highly evocative way of writing that makes the countryside sound divine, and there are Homeric epithets in his descriptions of the sea. When he writes of the approaching seasons, his naturalist’s eye combines with his rustic poeticism and, as always, his main preoccupation is zoological. “For me, spring was one of the best times, for all the animal life of the island was astir and the air full of hope.”

He is keen to amass more creatures for his ever-growing menagerie, but he knows that certain members the family (particularly Larry), do not like his animal collection so he tries to get Mother and Margo on side, and they often feel sorry for abandoned animals. One of the peasants, wanting to get rid of unwanted puppies, buries them alive, by which fact Mother is understandably outraged. She exclaims, “These peasants! I can’t understand how they can be so cruel.”

The Greeks are examined almost as another species, which can be uncomfortably racist to a modern reader. Margo has many affairs of the heart, but always with Greeks rather than English boys (friends of Larry’s), saying of the local peasant boys, “They’re so handsome and so sweet. They all sing so well. They have such nice manners. They play the guitar. Give me one of them instead of an Englishman any day.” On the subject of changing attitudes with time, the family are remarkably accepting of potential paedophilia, commenting of a guest, Colonel Velvit, “Since his retirement his one interest in life was the local Scout troop and, while there were those unkind enough to say that his interest in Scouts was not entirely altruistic, he worked hard and had certainly never yet been caught.”

Mother accepts all the guests and offers outstanding hospitality, even to horrible or boring people, warning Margo, “We’ve never done anything nasty to anyone that’s stayed with us – I mean, except as a joke or by accident – and we’re not going to start.” One visitor friend of Larry’s believes he can levitate and keeps trying, invariably falling through the trellis

Gerry embellishes stories for comic effect, and sees them through a boy’s eyes, but some of the details are harrowing, such as when a Turk visits them (at Margo’s invitation) with three wives, aiming to make Margo his fourth.

They live in a weird limbo land without news of the outside world because, “we did not have the dubious benefits of a wireless and so, for the most part, lived in a state of blissful ignorance.” Part of this lack of ‘outside interference’ means they have to rely upon themselves for entertainment, and they do so with spectacular results. Gerry’s descriptions of the food, drink and company at these events are exquisite, and his depictions of a bygone era are sumptuous and appealing. He paints pictures with words that inspired a generation to travel and take an interest in nature. Some of the attitudes are outdated, but if he instils a sense of conservationism, they can be excused as the results of age. It’s tough to farewell these tales of childhood on an island paradise.