Basking at Barr Al Jissah

Posted on 5 August 2022 by | 1 comment

A week at Shangri-La’s oasis in Oman

First published in the Sunday Times on 17/07

When I told my friends I was going to Oman they said to me: “wear the fox hat?”, or something to that phonetic effect.  It’s not unknown of course, but it’s not exactly on our local radar either, which is a shame, because, wow (!), what a place.  Sometimes you just know from the outset that you’ve arrived somewhere extraordinary, and that you’re destined for a special trip.  This was definitely, arrestingly, one of those occasions. The road from the airport to Barr al Jissah, my lodgings for what were to be seven glorious days, takes you through the capital Muscat, before presenting you with a point-blank display of the country’s unique, awe-inspiring geography – a rocky, mountainous desertscape that’ll remind fans of Luke Skywalker’s home planet in Star Wars.  I wanted a beach holiday with a difference; what I got was, in more ways than one, out-of-this-world.

Barr Al Jissah is freak of nature, even in its already freakishly beautiful context – an ochre peninsula that appears to have been hewn from great slabs of rock by a troupe of talented giants (in the absence of a more scientific explanation).  The land is owned in its entirety by prominent Omani Mohammed Al Zubair, having been gifted to him by the previous Sultan with the provision that it be employed to benefit the country’s development.  Sweet gig – sadly my questions about where I could sign up for this program went unanswered.  Anyhow, as a result (of that provision), the area has since 2006 accommodated the three hotels, operated by Shangri-La, that constitute the resort.   With their dramatic natural setting, their design inspired by the country’s traditional “fort architecture”, and their frankincense-scented interiors, an oil central to its heritage, they offered me a vividly sensory introduction to Oman.

There’s a particular cadence that I tend to adopt when holidaying at a resort.  Relax, exercise, drink moderately, eat immoderately (hence the exercise), sleep lots, and then repeat, with a few variations interspersed to avoid monotony.  In pursuit of this regimen I soon discovered the Piano Bar, with its generous schedule of happy hours, and its barman of deft skills and familiar accent.  Oman, he told me, may not be an established destination for South African tourists, but it’s popular with South African professionals looking for work in the hospitality industry – offering an attractive combination of great weather, a beautiful environment, and ample opportunities (i.e. much of what drew me here).  As if to prove the point, a second South African, the piano bar’s resident piano man, promptly appeared, tickling the ivories whilst I sat back and sipped a few Martinis.  Later in the trip, as I was diligently pursuing my vacation formula, I encountered yet another, a gym instructor this time.  A little bit of home when away from home is never a bad thing.

I was at Barr al Jissah in November, with the “winter” temperatures ranging from 21 degrees at night to a peak of 30 or thereabouts during the heat of the day, so absolutely perfect, and highly recommended.  The myriad pools and canals, and the long stretch of sea were refreshing, the al fresco dining pleasurable, and the sun warm and unwavering, but gentle enough.  It was a balmy bliss.  At the height of summer the mercury regularly climbs into the 40’s, which may get a tad uncomfortable.  That season’s drawcard though – the roundabouts to these temperature swings, so to speak – is the turtles, the peninsula being home to one of only five nesting sites in the country.  Visiting during the April to August hatching season affords you the opportunity to see, and even swim with, turtles close-up, a rare privilege.  So a tough choice I guess, but an upside in each case. 

In a resort of this calibre the highlights are many, massages in a private villa at the spa administered by expert Filipino therapists, to me always a barometer of quality, and the civilised pre-dinner drinks in the courtyard at Al Husn, the resort’s flagship hotel, being just two of what I got to enjoy.  There are some experiences though, necessarily exceptional, that are so magnificently and comprehensively enjoyable, so lacking in any kind of want, that describing them as mere highlights seems inadequate.  Climaxes might be more vigorously apt.  Such was the resort’s signature night at Sultanah restaurant – the climax of my stay, and needless to say a must-do.  Perched in the open air on a craggy ridge, cooled by the season’s evening breeze, with showstopping views of the sea and surrounds, it was as idyllic a setting for a meal as I could have imagined.  I sat at our table with my wife, realising as I took in the sounds of the accompanying jazz duo and the flavours of the free-flow Champagne, and as a surge of intense well-being threatened to overwhelm me, that I should drink as deeply of the moment as I possibly could.  I gave it my best shot, lingering over oysters, sashimi, lobster tagliatelle, grilled lobster, and tenderloin, our selections from a lavish barbeque buffet that had to be seen to be believed, before eventually, reluctantly, departing the scene, with both my appetite and spirits sated.  That night I slept the king-sized sleep of the utterly contented.

We cushioned our departure with a few days exploring the desert, overnighting on platforms amongst the dunes, the spectacular Wadi Shab, for a kloofing adventure, and Muscat proper, to which the resort gave us an easy springboard, and which further elevated the country in my esteem.  Oman, and indeed Barr al Jissah, may seem obscure to most South Africans, but sometimes you discover the greatest prizes in the most unthought-of places.  This is one of those finds.  Salaam alaikum.

THE ESSENTIALS

Language: Arabic is Oman’s official language, although English is widely spoken

Currency: the Omani Rial (OMR) is the national currency – nominally one of the most valuable in the world.  It trades at roughly ZAR40 to the OMR.

Visas: these can be procured online at http://www.evisa.rop.gov.om.  Note that visas for visits exceeding ten days are exponentially more expensive.

Getting there: Emirates operates regular flights to Dubai, from which multiple daily connections to Muscat are available.

Clothing: women should endeavour to dress with shoulders and knees covered in public spaces.

Getting around: hiring a car and making use of the excellent road network is a cost-effective, hassle-free option in a country where petrol is almost as cheap as water.

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Scottish for the weekend

Posted on 15 November 2021 by | 1 comment

First published in the Sunday Times on 14 November 2021

If there’s a country out there with more character than Scotland then it exists only in an alternate universe. In our world, the real world, the Scots take this cake and its crumbs as well, having cultivated a tapestry of rich traditions and endearing idiosyncrasies that are beyond beating — from their dress, and their food and drink, to their language and accents, and much in between.

If you’re not Scottish and have no Scottish connections, fear not; this is a hospitable place where anyone who’ll embrace their customs — as some friends and I did with the passion and gusto of pure-bred locals – can get to be satisfyingly Scots, for a little while at least.

It was February 2020, right before lockdown, and we set out with a basic, three-point plan: to revel in as much rugby, whisky, and Scottish cuisine as we responsibly could. As it turns out, I went somewhat overboard, eating so much haggis in particular that I thought I might turn into the wild beast from whence it comes (or at least from whence gullible Americans think it comes). Actually, the stuff is made from sheep’s heart, liver and lungs (known as pluck) and is delicious. It’s traditionally eaten with “neeps and tatties” (turnips and potatoes), but is increasingly deployed in more creative ways: combined with black pudding in sausages (a speciality of Stornoway in the Hebrides); as stuffing in Chicken Balmoral; doing a gourmet turn, again with its black pudding partner, in a “Dirty Apple Charlotte” (outstanding!), and at ease on the wrong side of the tracks in a “chippy” (which typically refers to a fish supper – fish and chips, but also to anything deep-fried and served with chips, haggis included).

We were pleasantly surprised by the vegetarian haggis served to us at Amber in Edinburgh, the highlight of its Taste of Scotland sample menu. This amidst stiff competition; the meal featured Cullen Skink (a soup of haddock, potatoes and leek), a trio of the local salmon, and fillet of Aberdeen Angus, a prime cut from the world famous Scottish breed. The list of Scotch delicacies is in fact so long and varied that it’s a wonder these laddies can fit into their kilts.

The rugby episode of our trip required us to fit into ours, so luckily it was scheduled first-up, before we’d gorge ourselves with haggis et al. I’ve attended all manner of rugby matches domestically, and my fair share abroad, yet they all paled in comparison to the simmering, high-voltage atmosphere of Scotland versus England at Murrayfield. The world’s oldest rugby rivalry, on our visit as it always does, trod a fine line between respect and animosity.

We joined a legion of Scots for the build-up at a nearby pub before disgorging into the streets for the procession to the stadium, a tartan army in high-spirits. Our little platoon was fortified en-route by a specially arranged flask of Johnnie Blue King George V — what a dram for the occasion, the complex arrangement of silky smoke, fruits and honey serving up a brilliant rendition of the national drink.

We arrived ready, in full voice, belting out Flower of Scotland with the best of them – following “Proud Edward’s Army” with the unscripted but obligatory (if you’re to be a true Scot): “wankers”.  The game itself was marred by atrocious weather and an unhappy result, but this was of no great consequence. We’d been through a gold-plated rite of passage and had been welcomed into a brotherhood. It was an experience to treasure.

The next day we began our pilgrimage to the Highlands, looking to appreciate (if you’ll excuse the euphemism) the country’s finest creation in its birthplace. The Speyside region, broadly the valley of the Spey River between Aberdeen and Inverness, is a whisky wonderland — you couldn’t toss a caber without hitting a distillery. We’d wound our way north by train, travelling through Dundee, a picturesque, richly historic city poised on the banks of the Firth of Tay, a massive estuary emptying into the North Sea, regretfully not having the time to stop and take its full measure.

The journey took us to Craigellachie (Craig-ella-kee) where we’d decided to spend the night so we could visit the eponymous, legendary, old-school distillery, and to lodge at its renowned hotel. I think of the Highlands as Scotland proper, the stuff reminiscent of Braveheart and Highlander, a rugged countryside replete with rivers and lochs and peaks, and colourful characters with broad accents. At a quaint pub, the Fiddichside Inn, on the fringes of the town, we got to know one such chap and his five unruly, but adorable hunting dogs, who took over the place without anyone batting an eyelid. That’s pretty much the style of things over there – it was simply marvellous!

Craigellachie’s whiskies are distinguished by their kiln-derived sulphury notes, with variations of sulphur, fruit and wax apparent in most expressions. It is probably the most distinctive and easily recognisable of the Speyside whiskies, so worth singling and seeking out on that basis alone.  We were privileged to sample the standard-bearing 13YO and the Rioja cask from the aptly named “Exceptional Cask Series” whilst standing on the banks of the Spey, drawing our water directly from the river like I imagined the locals would have done in earlier days.

Our home for the night was the Craigellachie Hotel, famous in whisky circles for its vast collection of the beverage, but appealing regardless as a quintessential representation of a Scottish country hotel, dishing up friendly service, ultra-comfortable accommodation, wholesome and hearty fare (i.e. more haggis), and an incomparable setting, including a view over the Spey onto the weirdly wonderful, subterranean Macallan distillery. The hospitality in the Highlands did not disappoint, not here, and not anywhere else.

We completed our brief sojourn in Craigellachie the next day with a Scottish breakfast inclusive of all the trimmings, and, after a polite interval, with a tasting of the distillery’s 31YO, a giant of quiet intensity that had won the World Whisky Awards best single malt title in 2017 – a special treat. I left wistfully, with the sense of having tapped into a vein of deep authenticity that seems increasingly rare in today’s world of big brands with tall stories.

Our final stop, heading back south for our return home, was Aberfeldy, known as the gateway to the Highlands. The route threaded us through some prime landscape studded with what is known in Scotland as Munros, peaks of over 3000 feet. Local enthusiasts participate in “Munro-bagging” i.e. summiting as many of the 282 total as possible. We didn’t have the space in this particular trip to indulge, but I made a mental note to bag at least one in the future, to further entrench my Scottish credentials, and just for the sheer joy of it.

Aberfeldy distillery should be a priority destination for any whisky tourist, given its proximity to the major centres and the sheer range of the distillery, which also serves as the Dewar’s brand home. From hot toddies alongside the burn, and the blending of our own expressions, to the distillery and museum tour, and the premium tastings in the dunnage warehouse, it was one of the fullest, most interesting whisky excursions that I’ve ever experienced.

I’m a longstanding Dewar’s fan, as is my father, and as was my grandmother, so this felt like the culmination of three generations’ enthusiasm. The tastings were nothing short of exceptional, a towering 40YO and a 1999 Single Cask in particular (both Aberfeldy’s); but my highlight was the straightforward comparison of two 12YO Dewar’s – a demonstration of the specific marrying process that sets Dewar’s apart from most other blended whiskies. The Dewar’s blends are “double aged”, basically left to settle and harmonise in oak casks for about six months after blending. It sounds great, the idea has always resonated in an abstract sense, but to tangibly experience the difference – we tasted against a single aged version that is commercially unavailable – proved the simple genius of the technique.

A trip can be just a trip, or – much more rewarding and meaningful – it can be a total immersion into a culture, and way of life. And it doesn’t take much to make the difference – just a bit of planning, being open to the experience, and in a place as welcoming as Scotland, the renting of a kilt. Slàinte Mhath!

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Don’t forget about the blends

Posted on 23 November 2020 by | Leave a comment

Overlooked and underesteemed, a strange curse of popularity

First published in Whisky Magazine South Africa (November 2020)

If you’re a whisky drinker it’s likely that the first and most recurring choice you’ve had to make on your journey is that between blend and single malt.  There are other styles of whisky of course – single pot stills, bourbon, and grains to name a few – but here in South Africa, and in most places, these are the two that predominate;  and of the two blends are the popular favourites, massively outweighing single malts.  There’s no little irony then in pleading their case.

The reality though is that whilst blends may dominate the box office, single malts are the indie darlings, garnering the lion’s share of critical acclaim.  The romance of whisky, its bucolic provenance, colourful history, and crafted production, is largely essential in single malts. 

Whiskies like Aberlour’s A’bunadh epitomise the appeal of the style: forged in distinct, numbered batches in the heart of Speyside in Scotland, perhaps the most renowned whisky region, replicated from an inadvertently discovered bottle dating back to 1898, and delivering deep, rich, impeccable sherry cask flavours, but with enough effervescence on the finish, at least in the batch (56) currently in market, to play short of the line where intense lapses into overpowering, this is an outstanding whisky in all respects.  With serious interest in whisky escalating in recent years, and with the proliferation of compelling specimens like the A’bunadh, the ballooning population of aficionados has increasingly been opting for single malts. Their potential, long either ignored or underemployed, is progressively being realised, recognised and appreciated, to the extent that the relative spend on single malts compared to blends is about three-fold higher now than it was twenty years ago – a staggering shift.  Single malts are a hot commodity.

Blends on the other hand owe their comparative scale (in general) to a substantial cost advantage, and to flavour profiles that tend to be light and accessible, rather than to any superior merit.  They’re by-and-large cheap, and easy to drink.  Many blends, if one was to be unkind, could be described as bland fodder for the undiscerning masses.  Its lesser exponents have somewhat tainted the style, with the result that it’s become perceived, often unconsciously, as uninspiring and second best.   

This is the backdrop against which you might find yourself unwittingly making your choices, but if you were to buy into and consistently act on these perceptions in isolation you’d be selling your whisky wonderment (to be poetic about it) woefully short.  It’s always worth re-examining assumptions, especially those that lead to ingrained, automatic, and detrimental prejudices.

A blended whisky is constituted from a variety of single malts (made from malted barley in a copper pot still), mixed with grain whisky (made from corn or wheat in a column still).  The grain, habitually maligned as a diluting filler, in fact introduces a few elements of potential “extra” value: a particular mouthfeel (typically an oiliness), its own specific flavours, and a distinct dynamic that changes how the malt flavours present themselves i.e. much as men behave differently around women, so does malt in the company of grain. 

The challenge lies in combining the selection and proportions of these various components into a whisky that’s more than the sum of its parts – the process known as blending.  Get it wrong and it’s forgettable.  Get it right and it can be something awe-inspiringly special – something on which you wouldn’t want to miss out.  One such whisky is Johnnie Walker Blue Label, a replete demonstration of the best possibilities of the style.  Oaky, spicy, peaty, and sweet, with an array of fruits, this whisky has drawn from an all-encompassing palette of flavours and somehow melded them into a harmonious, coherent and delicious whole.  Notably, it’s one of the first high-profile bottlings of a multi-vintage whisky, merging liquids of substantially different ages.  Whilst this is looked upon cynically in this “No Age Statement” era, Johnnie Blue is a well-intentioned, trail-blazing execution of the technique, achieving a real, indisputable synergy.

Another blend worth singling out is Jameson, the consistently fastest growing whiskey (it’s Irish hence the spelling, with single pot still playing the malt role) of the past twenty years.  The standard bottling is a marvel, but an upgrade gets you the ridiculously quaffable Select Reserve, a denser version with an injection of dark fruit flavours.  Perhaps the most compelling example of a blend’s appeal though is found in another Irish, Bushmill’s Black Bush: interesting, complex, rich, and, importantly for everyday drinking, affordable, amongst other charms.  You can look if you want but you won’t find a single malt that’s both similarly satisfying and easy on the pocket.

Whisky is set apart by its complexity and variety of flavour.  There’s arguably more to experience in single expression, and there are more different and distinct expressions, than with any other spirit.  This is partly inherent to the qualities of the liquid itself, but also brought by its evolution and momentum – more people demanding more.  Either way it wouldn’t be the case if it wasn’t for its great blends.  Something to ponder next time you’re ordering a drink or choosing a bottle.  May the dram be with you!

As it appeared: https://whiskymag.co.za/dont-forget-about-the-blends/

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The dynamite of Black and White

Posted on 30 March 2020 by | Leave a comment

Simple names for serious booze

First published in Cheers Magazine (March 2020 edition).

We live in world that has become so complex, so overwhelming, so time-intensive, that I’ve made it a priority to strive for simplicity in my life, although with all the distractions and confusion out there I need to regularly remind myself about it.  And I’m not alone, by far.  Simple logic, simple pleasures, finding the essence of things – these are universally appealing ambitions, capable of explosive impact.  Simplicity offers clarity, and clarity can be priceless.  I spend a lot of time thinking about and sampling booze, probably too much time (and the jury’s out on whether it’s helping me achieve any clarity), so it surprised me recently in light of this priority to simplify, to make an observation that had previously eluded me.  There’s a multitude of simplicity in the naming liquor brands, specifically the use of black or white.

Their monochromatic simplicity aside, these are colours that serve as basic, widely understood symbols, conveying at their core powerful inferences: white as purity, innocence, goodness, and black as elegance, luxury, power, mystery, and at its darker end, degrees of malevolence.  Bruichladdich Black Art, the maverick Islay whisky, playfully taps into this vein to great effect, exuding an enigmatic, slightly dangerous unknowability – perfectly invocating the unusualness of the product itself, with its luscious, layered, almost magical notes.  Was it made in a still or a cauldron?  In Scotland or Middle Earth?  I remain unsure.

One of my favourite whiskeys is Bushmills Black Bush.  I love the rich, fruity, velvety flavour, especially in the context of its not-taking-the-piss price tag.  The name signals the luxury of the liquid, no doubt, but it supports my hypothesis even further – and in this case, a rare case indeed, it’s the people, the fans, that can take the credit.  This whiskey actually started out with a distinctly non-simple and rather cumbersome designation: ‘Old Bushmills Special Old Liqueur Whiskey’, but given its identifiably dark colouring, due to maturation largely in Oloroso sherry casks, and its black label, patrons started calling for it in more basic terms: “Barman, I’ll have the Black Bush please” – the ‘Bush’ being a contraction of Bushmills – to such an extent that this name was formally adopted.  A whiskey of the people, for the people, by the people, or as close to it as you’ll get – although the Scotch whisky Black & White has a similar story (I kid you not), being previously named ‘House of Commons’.

The white-is-good-black-is-evil axis is turned on its head by Johnnie Walker’s White Walker whisky, a commemoration of the Game of Thrones universe, and its nefarious, implacable arch-villains.  They didn’t “keep walking”, being eventually eliminated in one fell swoop, and some of them didn’t walk at all, riding horses and even a dragon, but fear and loathe them as we might, they were redeemingly handy with ice, which is what the name alludes to, so in evoking this basic whisky drinking requirement (for many) it strikes a resonant chord.  A more conventional deployment of ‘white’ can be found in Dewar’s “White Label” whisky, a stamp of quality that has served the product well since its inception in 1899, keeping Dewar’s enduringly within the world’s top 10 best-selling blended Scotch whiskies.  Tommy Dewar, the man credited with taking the brand global, literally and figuratively as he tirelessly travelled from country to country and continent to continent drumming up business, is likely the one who imparted the name.

The world of whisky is littered with appellations using these two colours – from Johnnie Black, Black Velvet, and Black Bottle, to White Horse and Jack Daniel’s White Rabbit Saloon, and even Blackadder, disappointingly named after John, a Scottish preacher, and not Edmund, the character played by Rowan Atkinson – but they certainly aren’t whisky’s exclusive preserve, being employed across a variety of spirits.  Rum and tequila use white in particular, and black sporadically, to distinguish one style from another.  Bacardi injected some Spanish flair into the practice with Carta Blanca, their standard white rum bottling, and Carta Negra, a rum aged in heavily charred casks, producing the intensely dark colour referenced by the name.   Noir King, taking a leaf from the same book, albeit in French, used the word to proudly proclaim the first ever black woman-owned cognac.

Perhaps the most poignant rendition of the theme though is O de V’s Gin White and Gin Black, which not only use the colours as their core descriptors, but which attempt to interpret them in the construction of the liquid itself: “This is the idea that we have pursued, trying to find a recipe of botanicals that characterise ‘Black’ and ‘White’”, using fruit and bold floral ingredients for the black, and softer, more fragrant elements for the white”.  It is simplicity at its poetic finest.

You may ask yourself why this matters; these are just words, pick one, pick another, it’s all the same – it’s what’s in the bottle that’s important.  The fact is though that the words, the branding, and the packaging influence our perception of flavour and our enjoyment of the drink, to a greater or lesser extent, depending on the individual and the type of spirit.  This is the reason why some vodkas, to use an obvious example, despite being intrinsically indistinguishable from cheaper counterparts to the average palate, can and do sell at relatively high prices.  And the phenomenon shouldn’t be disparaged – rather the employment of any and all reasonable means to elevate enjoyment deserves applause.  You take your kicks where you get them, gratefully.  Smirnoff Black may not taste altogether very different from its 1818 stablemate, but the indulgence transmitted by this simple idea of black puts it in a different class.  Black and white, they’re a celebration of the simple things in life.  Cheers!

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Stirred, not shaken

Posted on 18 February 2020 by | Leave a comment

Taking your Martini education beyond Bond level

First published in Prestige Magazine (Issue 100).

If you were to bring up the Martini in arbitrary conversation you’d likely get a response that alludes to James Bond.  He’s almost come to own the drink and the drink him, such is the strength of their association.  And it’s not difficult to understand why Ian Fleming imbued his famous superspy with this predilection.  They fit like hand in glove.  They’re both suave and sophisticated, they’re both single-mindedly serious (with a certain dry wit), and they both get the job done, always.  The Martini has played no small part in fashioning the 007 legend, and he in turn has transported the drink into today’s popular imagination.

We thank him for it, for keeping the flame alive.  At one time of course – for long stretches on either side of the Second World War beginning with the roaring twenties – the Martini was wildly popular of its own accord, the symbol of an unrestrained golden age of excess.  It has ebbed since, but now, resurgent, is flowing again – perhaps though having evolved into a vehicle for discerning rather than uninhibited drinking.

In this new phase of its existence there seems to be real attention to quality.  As an example you’ll be hard-pressed to find any credible establishment that recommends a shaken Martini, despite the influential force of Bond’s iconic prescription. Shaking risks overdilution, and introduces foamy agitation on what should be a static presentation.  Some also say that it ‘bruises’ the gin, but what that means isn’t obviously discernible.  That it’s still a drop-two-gears-surge of a drink is without question – this is a stiff injection of booze – but the balance has shifted somewhat to a greater appreciation of its other charms: it’s also cultivated, elegant, and, if made properly, outright delicious.

On how this should be accomplished you’ll find Martini aficionados often pitted against one another in passionate disagreements, but whilst differences abound, there is widespread consensus on two vital elements: that the botanical-loaded favours of gin make a more interesting (and varying) base than vodka’s bland neutrality (Movie Bond prefers vodka, but Book Bond drinks both), and that it should be drunk deep-chilled i.e. stirred with lots of ice, and dispensed in frozen glassware. The rest is down to personal preference, notably the ratio of vermouth to gin, which ranges from rinsing the ice in vermouth before discarding it, to the recent 50:50 trend.  Noël Coward famously suggested that “a perfect martini should be made by filling a glass with gin, then waving it in the general direction of Italy”, but given that the best dry vermouths come from France rather than Italy this ill-informed opinion should be treated with some scepticism – gin without vermouth is just gin, not a Martini. The addition of bitters can be considered and dry sherry substituted for vermouth, although purists would sneer at both suggestions. Garnishes are essential and play a defining role; an expressed twist of lemon produces a completely different result to olives, and both to olive brine.  In fact, such is their effect that the employment of another garnish, a cocktail onion, confers a distinct name to the drink: the Gibson. There’s much to be said for taking an open-minded position and evaluating all these options, in-field.

The Martini has persisted through the decades, with Bond’s help, for good reason: it is intrinsically exceptional, allowing it to weather fluctuations and impress itself on one generation after another.  And once you’ve acquired a taste for it, you’ll be hooked for life.  Ice breaker, conversation flamer, party blaster – it ticks all the boxes.  Go forth and stir.

Sidebar

The PRESTIGE Martini (recipe makes two)

125ml Inverroche Classic Gin

25ml Dolin vermouth

Stir well with ice and strain into chilled glasses

Garnish each with three queen olives on a spear

Prestige 100 Spirits

As it appeared – with apologies for the incorrectly copy-edited title and the image.

 

 

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Scenes from a Scottish buffet

Posted on 30 January 2020 by | Leave a comment

A few whisky highlights from the past few months

First published in Prestige Magazine (Issue 100)

Old stock

If you’re even slightly familiar with whisky then you’ll know about maturation, and its importance.  This is the process by which whisky is “aged” in casks, thereby acquiring the most part of its eventual flavour.  Older whiskies aren’t necessarily better whiskies of course, but there’s something special about them.  The individual flavour that they’ve cultivated is scarce.  It can’t be replicated without the long passage of time, and even then maybe not at all.  When a whisky reaches an epic milestone, like 50 years of age, or say 51, then it becomes a rare privilege to be able to experience it, one that should be seized with both hands.

These opportunities are usually few and far between.  Whiskies of such ancient vintage are gut-wrenchingly expensive, out of reach for many, and albeit intriguing not worth the cost for others.  Sadly, those who can afford them often make such purchases for investment or collection purposes, with the result being that many of the world’s oldest and most prized whiskies never get put to palate.  They’re destined to sit encased in glass for eternity.

Cragellachie Single Malt, renowned for its popular 13YO and 17YO whiskies, has recently launched a crusade towards redressing this injustice…well maybe not a crusade, but a damned good initiative.  The self-proclaimed “bad boy of Speyside” is going against the malt, so to speak, by taking a cask of 51 year old whisky and offering it to whisky lovers around the world…for free!  In a world of cynical and rehashed marketing campaigns this is as sincere and creative as it gets – well done to them.  Dubbed Bar 51, the South African leg of these events, a pop-up bar disseminating the epic tastings, took place in Joburg at the WhiskyBrother bar on 21 and 22 November 2019, and in Cape Town at the Athletic Club & Social on 26 and 27 November 2019.  May the dram be with you and may it be a Craigellachie!

Balanced peat

Does anyone remember the transition of Black Bottle from the former green glass to the current black glass version?  The step-up in flavour, richness and quality was remarkable.  In particular the balance of the blend was spectacularly improved.  This may not have been as pleasing to hard-core peat freaks as to the rest of us, but most I think will agree that the mellowing of its trademark smoke with dark fruits and anise was a boon.  There is little to be faulted in Port Charlotte’s Scottish Barley, but the brand’s latest exponent, a 10YO launched recently in South Africa, has followed a similar (if less pronounced) trajectory to Black Bottle. It still showcases the big peat, make no mistake, but it’s accorded more prominent roles to the other players, toffee, sweet oak, and vanilla in particular.  The 10YO perpetuates Port Charlotte’s (and indeed Bruichladdich’s) infatuation with wine casks to great effect, especially with its extended maturation.  Long may it continue.

Big sherry

Glendronach has been on the local scene for a while, but it recently underwent a change of ownership, the reins assumed by industry giant Brown Forman.  The upshot for us whisky lovers is that the brand now wields distribution clout that is considerably stronger.  You’re significantly more likely to find its core range, comprising a 12, 18 and 21YO, in your preferred bars and liquor stores.  If you’re partial to the traditional sweet, spicy Pedro Ximenez flavours in your whisky (and who wouldn’t be) then this is great news for you.  Glendronach is noteworthy for employing the highest percentage of PX casks in the industry.  Caramba!

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Two days as a Tsar

Posted on 2 November 2019 by | Leave a comment

What to do with 48 hours in St. Petersburg

First published in Sawubona Magazine November 2019 edition

The holy grail of travel is the destination that delivers a big bang for a bargain.  St. Petersburg exemplifies this rare bird in all its splendour.  Moscow may dominate in scale and gravitas, but Russia’s second city thrives in its shadow, its beauty, legacy and charisma generating their own glittering light.  The grandeur of its days as the seat of an empire may be somewhat faded, but it’s re-emerging, and its reinvigorated and reimagined modern incarnation – in which electric bands busk on the boulevards – is every bit as compelling.  Here, now, you don’t need to earn like a Tsar to live like a Tsar…for a few days at least.

STAY

You may well choose to lodge in one of the city’s numerous grand hotels, a thrifty opportunity to lather yourself in bit of luxury, and indeed some of these may be worth a visit regardless, for “Tchaikovsky nights” at the Belmond as an example; however in a country where banyas (steams baths) are integral to the culture, a boutique hotel offering this facility makes for an authentic alternative.  Fitting the bill handsomely is the Rossi Hotel & Spa – long on olde-worlde charm, short on unnecessary posturing, it’s a quaint and intimate establishment, the type where the veteran doorman takes personal pride in extending hospitality and sharing his local knowledge. It’s conveniently located, satisfyingly comfortable, and unobtrusively atmospheric, with lavish spreads for breakfast, but its highlight though must be the spa itself.  If you like the idea of setting your day into gentle motion with an hour divided between the sauna and the (turbo powered!) jet pool, then this is just the place for you.

SEE

The priority when arriving in a new city should be to get the lay of the land, which in St. Petersburg, ironically, is best accomplished off the land.  Its network of canals, feeding in and out of the Neva, offers a magnificent vantage point from which to conduct a quick (or leisurely, as you would have it) exploration. There is a plethora of providers, routes, tours and formats – which can be overwhelming.  A specialist operator, such as Red Sun Tours, whose high-quality offerings range from customised private excursions to small group tours, might be a useful place to start making your arrangements.

Once orientated, the sight-seeing, as you’d expect for one of the great capitals of Western culture, is replete with possibilities, some of the most noteworthy being: the Hermitage, the world’s second largest art museum (after the Louvre), housed largely in the legendary Winter Palace, with its love-it-or-hate-it green pigmentation; the Peterhof, Peter the Great’s sprawling, keeping-up-with-the-joneses response to the Palace of Versailles; the Fabergé Museum, home to the largest private collection of the eponymous eggs and a palaceful of other exceptional  designware; and the Mariinsky Theatre, one of the iconic stages and spiritual homes of ballet.  This ball of string though is as long as you want it to be.

DINE

If the way to a traveller’s heart was through their stomach (probably the case for many of us), then St. Petersburg would be in for the win, hitting a trifecta of quality, variety and tradition.

The uber-cool Mansarda, boasting a mesmerising view onto the enormous gold plated dome of St. Isaac’s Cathedral, is a case in point, crafting a combination of classic dishes, including delicious renditions of local staples such as borsht and stroganoff, and modern fusion cuisine.  Its expansive menu is accompanied by an even broader 450-strong wine list stewarded by one of Russia’s top sommeliers, featuring the regular cast of course, but also exponents from more obscure regions such as Georgia, Hungary, Israel and Russia itself.  A singular dining experience!

Less flash, but every bit as delightful is Makaronniki, a trattoria that’ll have you questioning your location in the world.  In a field as dense and competitive as the purveying of Italian food, it’s a tall order to stand out, but stand-out it does…and then some.  The pesto focaccia, the tomato cappuccino with ricotta froth, and the pork stracotto with BBQ ice-cream in particular are of the highest calibre.  Throw in a rooftop courtyard, a well-considered Italo-centric drinks menu, and the most imaginative desserts you could hope to eat, and you’ve got a lock for your schedule.  “Buon appetito” has just been appropriated to Russian.

DRINK

If you’re in the market for a few mellow cocktails, you’ll be hard pressed to find better satisfaction than with Apotheke and its master barman – whose prodigious skill seems its reason for being.  There’s a chalked-up cocktail list, comprising both universal and house recipes, to guide your selecting, but Apotheke also subscribes to the entertaining trend of taking orders by flavour, with damn fine results.

SAVOUR

One of the great joys of travel is the prospect of sampling local traditions and local delicacies in situ, where they’re usually at their best.  Arguably this doesn’t get more exquisite than in Russia, the home of caviar.  A Tsar would simply order a kilogram of albino beluga, but for the rest of us St. Petersburg’s ArtCaviar presents an outstanding alternative.  This caviar boutique with its adjoining caviar inspired fine-dining restaurant offers the ideal setting for acquainting yourself with this delicacy.  The knowledgeable staff, whose passion and zeal are undoubtable, and the sublime culinary creations, witness pressed caviar in straciatella cheese with strawberries, expertly paired with Russian (or other) wines, make for an indelible experience.  When people advise you to spend your money on experiences rather than things, this is what they mean.

For those with a sweet tooth the Russian afternoon tea at the Astoria is a special treat.  The hotel has been host to some of the world’s most recognisable names, so a visit represents a chance to rub shoulders, and to linger in its aristocratic setting listening to live piano and enjoying Russian pastries such as pirosky (which is savoury), sguschenka, and medovik cake.   Go hungry.

MOVE

Ride hailing applications such as Bolt, Gett and Yandex make the best means for moving about in St. Petersburg.  Make sure you get yourself a Russian SIM card on arrival – it’s an essential requirement for accessing WIFI in most places.

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48 hours in Hong Kong

Posted on 22 July 2019 by | 3 comments

First published in Sawubona Magazine – July 2019 edition

Twenty years ago and before, at a time when an incursion into the Mainland was too forbidding for most, Hong Kong offered a précised and sanitised ‘Chinese experience’.  For travellers and traders alike it was a window to China.  This view of things is now a footnote in history, completely outdated, redundant: the world has shrunk and liberalised China is on our doorstep, readily accessible.  The territory’s days as a cheap destination are similarly long gone – the shopping’s still good, but don’t expect the fabled knock-down prices of the past, and as for the rest – food, accommodation, entertainment – you’ll by and large be paying top dollar.  But despite these changes, or maybe because of them, Hong Kong is a sexier and more rollicking ride than ever before.  Its essence, as a confluence of East and West, continues to define its course, but not in any cartoonish sense.  Instead it has evolved into an established hybrid, both reflective and independent of its progenitors – an inimitable, compelling amalgam of cool sophistication, warm hospitality, and vibrant energy.  The place just keeps raising its (gripping!) game.  For a visitor with a few days to fill there’s little to beat it.

Stay

Your lodgings can make or break a trip, so ensure the former with an astute selection.  You’ll struggle to find a better choice than the Island Shangri-La, the pre-eminent scion of a home-grown group, and the epitome of unpretentious refinement.  The typical benefits of a great hotel are superbly delivered – large rooms, lavish breakfasts, premium facilities, with the skyscraper-surrounded pool-deck a splendid highlight, especially in a city known for having more of them than any other in the world – but it’s with the finer touches that the hotel really excels: from the traditional welcome tea on arrival, beautifully presented in an insulated tea caddy, and the uber-comfortable mattresses and linen, developed by Simmon’s and Frette specifically for Shangri-La, to the day-of-the-week inscribed carpets in the lifts, and the L’Occitane and Acqua di Parma toiletries, they amplify the accommodation to an indulgent celebration.   The hotel houses eight restaurants on site, including the Michelin-starred Summer Palace, but it’s Restaurant Petrus that’s perhaps the star attraction.  Set on the 56th floor, in elegant, conducive surroundings (the ceiling frescoes and piano-accompanied strings live large), with breathtaking views over Victoria Harbour, the place offers classical fine dining, fine wining fare, but with just enough of an edge to stir the imagination.  Sample the green pea tart with yoghurt, meringue and coriander for dessert.

Island Shangri-La, Pacific Place, Supreme Court Rd, Central, Hong Kong

+852 2877 3838

Move

Taxis are plentiful and relatively affordable, but it’s often quicker and more convenient, especially when crossing from island to mainland and vice-versa, to use Hong Kong’s outstanding public transport system, one of the most effective and user-friendly worldwide, encompassing buses, trains, trams, and ferries.  The Octopus card, which you should definitely invest in on arrival, is probably the world’s leading fare collection and contactless smartcard payment system (and the model upon which London’s Oyster card was based), allows you to breeze on and off for the duration of your visit without worrying  about buying individual tickets.

See

Hong Kong is intense.  Visually spectacular, with a compact frame of sea, city, and mountain, and densely constituted, with its bustling population of enterprising people on the go, there is no shortage of things to see and do.  In geography there are some resonating parallels with Cape Town.  Victoria Peak, like Table Mountain, offers a spectacular vantage point from which to view and contemplate the city, and indeed the whole of Hong Kong Island on the walks around its circumference.  It’s accessible by foot for the fit and energetic, or otherwise by tram.  The Southern District, like our Southern Peninsula, is dotted with picturesque day-tripping towns – Aberdeen, Stanley and Repulse Bay notably – all easily accessible via the excellent public transport network.  Aberdeen in particular is something unique.  Historically the channel separating its settlements was home to a floating village of fisherfolk.  The boats remain, a ragtag but impressive fleet numbering in the hundreds and bearing testimony to this heritage, although fewer and fewer people still reside aboard permanently.  The area is also renowned for its cheap and cheerful fish ball noodles – test your chopsticks technique on the rendition at Nam Kee Noodle on Main Road.

 The Peak Tram Lower Terminus, Garden Road, Central, Hong Kong

+852 2522 0922

 Exchange Square Bus Terminus, Ground floor, Exchange Square, 8 Connaught Place,

Central (Bus 70 to Aberdeen, from Aberdeen Bus 73 to Stanley via Repulse Bay)

 Nam Kee Noodle, Shop 1-3, G/F, 208 Aberdeen Main Rd, Aberdeen

+852 2552 2731

 Drink

A dark passage, a nondescript staircase, and an unmarked door.  This is the low-key entranceway to Stockton, one of Hong Kong’s coolest bars – a pre-emptive measure maybe against intrusion by the roving bands of Jack the Lads from neighbouring Lan Kwai Fong, Hong Kong’s notorious party district.  Or other random arrivals.  If you’re not in the know, clearly you shouldn’t be here.  Named for Hunter Stockton Thompson, reporter, writer, reveller, the place is inspired by literary themes and influences, from its seasonal cocktail menu, the latest being a dive into Darwin’s On the Origin of Species (featuring drinks such as “The Berry Picker”), to its eclectic collection of vintage furniture and decorations, allusions to a private library or a reading room.  You get the sense that everything here has been well thought-out and deeply considered: it’s a place of substance for people of substance.  There are intimate crevices and alcoves, a thronging bar, a “secret” cigar den (known as the “Rake Room”), a discerning selection of fine liquors, a toilet with a two-way mirror (!!), and a menu featuring unusual delicacies like duck scotch eggs and cauliflower fritters.  Treat yourself to an exceptional Old Fashioned, hit repeat, and spend a rewarding evening at this superb, atmospheric venue.

Stockton, 32 Wyndham Street, Central, Hong Kong

+852 2898 3788

Eat

You can get the best of pretty much anything you want in Hong Kong, but it’s always a good idea to eat local.  The speciality here is Cantonese, the style of Chinese cuisine most internationally prevalent:  chow mein, sweet and sour pork, and dim sum being typical dishes. There’s a gaping chasm though between what you get at your local Chinese, and the finer exponents available in situ.  Duddell’s, an eatery-cum-art-gallery in the heart of Central on the island, gives you exactly that, the finer if not finest exponents of the style, but with a modern interpretation.  Their dim sum is off-the-scale, the scallop dumplings with caviar and asparagus good enough to break the gauge, whilst their use of non-traditional ingredients such as Wagyu beef and ibérico pork exemplifies Hong Kong’s flair and individuality.  Other highlights include the a double-boiled mushroom, bamboo and cabbage soup, shrimp spring rolls wrapped in rice sheets, a vegetarian ensemble of asparagus, mushrooms, lily buds and black truffles, and their signature chicken dish: marinated, air dried and then deep fried.  The best approach though might be to explore their unlimited Weekend Salon Brunch, with an option for free-flow Veuve.  Go hungry (and thirsty)!

Duddell’s, Level 3, Shanghai Tang Mansion, 1 Duddell Street, Central

+852 2525 9191

Over the bay, in Kowloon, you’ll find the pinnacle of an unpretentious, uniquely Hong Kongese speciality being served from a tiny, humble outlet.  Whilst the physical structure belies the presence of something special, the constant queues give it away.  Mammy Pancake serves egg waffles, a base batter of eggs, sugar, flour and evaporated milk, supplemented with various other ingredients, such as chocolate, peanut butter, and banana, according to taste, prepared on a waffle iron which moulds interconnected little pods (which you break off and eat by hand), and served in a brown bag.  Simple and delicious.  Try it as a breakfast snack, or at any time of the day.

Mammy Pancake, G/F, Carnarvon Mansion, 8-12 Carnarvon Road, Tsim Sha Tsui

 

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Small batch, big patch

Posted on 31 May 2019 by | Leave a comment

Four craft spirits to try before you braai

First published in Sawubona Magazine (March 2019).

The last five years have seen a mushrooming proliferation of craft products on the local liquor scene.  It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to contend that we are experiencing something of a spirituous golden age.  Taking inspiration from wine and beer, and moving from early rumblings in brandy, South Africa’s signature spirit, to the heady days of the ongoing gin boom, this momentum is now being felt across a variety of sectors and styles.   Our brandy heritage reaches back centuries, but it’s only in recent years that smaller producers have been re-emerging.  Backsberg, Boplaas, and Joseph Barry, were and still are some of the standout frontrunners, issuing interesting, distinctive small-batch brandies of international quality, and forging the path for a chasing pack, with the result that we’re awash today in these amber riches.  Gin may not be home-grown, but we’ve made it our own – what is South Africa if not a melting pot of vibrant, varied and sometimes adopted influences.   The resources of the Cape Floristic Kingdom, accounting for the greatest non-tropical concentration of higher plant species in the world, served as both input and catalyst for local gin production.  Pioneers like Roger Jorgensen, and Lorna Scott of Inverroche, the latter perhaps more than anyone else, showed that fynbos botanicals have the potential to create extraordinary, unique gins.  The distillery’s “Amber Gin” made infusions and local ingredients sexy, elevating this style into the popular imagination.  The quality and creativity of these trailblazers, their warm reception by the drinking public, and the surge of the rising tide which brought them about in the first place, seem to have generated a perfect storm.  A plethora of South African craft spirits is now taking the expression ‘local is lekker’ to a whole new level.

The appeal of this exciting new landscape is unfortunately also its drawback – there are, as an example, 250 plus gins being manufactured locally.  It’s getting difficult to see the wood for the trees.  Those that have already made their names stand out, but those that haven’t yet, the new generation, can be lost in the growing clutter.  We got stuck in, did a bit of homework, and identified a few which we thought might be worth your attention.

Pimville Gin

Styled by its four founders – Yongama Skweyiya, Thami Banda, Nkululeko Maseko, and Francois Bezuidenhout – as an African gin, made for Africans, with African flavours, an African story and an African home, and named after one the original towns that formed what was later to be called the South Western Townships (contracted to Soweto – who knew! ), this gin is intended as celebration of the charm and energy of African townships.

The outcome has been a robust gin, instilled with juniper, marula fruit, baobab, and, most prominently in our reckoning, African ginger, that is faithful to and a tribute to its mandate.  There is a flavour continuum for gins that ranges from retiring wallflower to life-of-the-party.   Pimville marches to the boisterous beat of an African drum, asserting its presence in martinis and with tonic.  A bold gin for a bold era.

Copeland Rum

James Copeland is a character study of a craft entrepreneur.   An internationally-renowned, globetrotting Trance DJ, he became inspired by rum during trips to Mauritius.  Armed with a burning passion he decided to make his own…in Kommetjie (which thinking about it just seems like a place where rum should be made – and drunk!).  We met him during the recent Rum Festival in Cape Town, slinging drinks from his “rum shack” (a beach bar fashioned stall) and bringing the message to the masses.

Copeland Rum is a white exponent distilled from a brew of blackstrap molasses, surprisingly polished for an unaged spirit, and exuding a full, rounded fruitiness, notably banana in our estimation.  Although he has plans for aged variants – with various trials currently in maturation – Copeland’s ethos and focus is about and on creating definitive, fermentation-driven rums, bursting with concentrated flavours.  This may be a drink that nimbly straddles rum’s penchant for unruly fun on the one side, and elegant enjoyment on the other.

BoPlaas Whisky

The chaps at Boplaas have some serious ambition, and from all evidence, the skills to go with it.  Wines, sparkling wines, fortified wines, brandies, gins, and “now” whiskies; it seems nothing is too much for this Calitzdorp clan.  Whisky is tricky beast, which is probably why it’s one of the least prevalent spirits in the craft arena.  The production can be complex, the maturation extended, and the market extremely competitive, making it challenging to put out an affordable product that strikes the right balance, and that is sufficiently distinctive to resonate.

The Boplaas 6YO is a creditable single grain whisky finished in Cape Tawny (port) casks that have exerted a significant influence on its flavour.  It’ll appeal we’re sure to fans of wine-casked whiskies.  Most importantly it’s a distinct drink with a strong identity, speaking of the region, the estate, and of the people who created it – and transforming consumption into exploration.  We’ll look forward, as we sip at it contentedly, to more of the same from this industrious outfit.

Agua Zulu Cachaça

If you’re familiar with Brazil’s national cocktail – the caipirinha, served just about everywhere in that country – then you’ll be enthused with this selection, and if you’re not then it’s something you’d be advised to remedy.  A masterpiece of delicious simplicity, it’s made from sugar, lime, ice, and, most importantly, cachaça: a distillate of sugar cane juice, similar to the rhum agricole of the French Caribbean.   What we should ultimately want from the local craft industry are products that go beyond the obvious, that cater for niched, overlooked needs, and that provide the type of diversity and particularity not feasible on a mass scale.  The fact that this speciality spirit is now being produced locally is an encouraging signal that this aspiration has come to pass.

Distillery 031’s Agua Zulu, made in the Brazilian style from local cane and with a local touch, is bursting with the distinctively funky, pot-stilled cachaça flavours that guarantee a rousing caipirinha.  This initial incarnation is unaged, but with luck it’ll be succeeded by matured variants in the future, perhaps borrowing from the tradition and being casked in unusual, local wood.  As they say in Brazil: there comes a time when no matter what the question is, the answer is caipirinha.

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Two whiskies to reaffirm your faith

Posted on 8 April 2019 by | 2 comments

First published in Whisky Magazine South Africa (March 2018).

During the course of my relationship with whisky I’ve rarely been disappointed.  Sure, we’ve had our ups and downs, but the troughs are usually my fault, isolated to occasions where I’ve abused its good graces.  More typically, over the years, it’s treated me to a series of wonderful encounters and experiences, nurturing between us a warm glow of contentment.  It has invigorated me when I’ve flagged, rewarded me when I’ve risen, encouraged my friendships, and made for good company at pretty much any time in between.  Most impressively, it keeps surprising me.  We’ve known each other well, for a long time now, so this is no mean feat.  They say familiarity breeds contempt, but it can obviously breed more positive regard as well – like delight.  I’ve had a few of those moments of late, brought on by two newcomers, which, if you’d like to instil a bit of fresh life into your bond with whisky, might be worth your attention.

Glenmorangie Allta

The tenth and latest in the unfailingly interesting, envelope-pushing Private Edition series, Allta fiercely perpetuates the spirit of this campaign.  I was lucky enough to “sense” this whisky along with a few others, Original, Cadboll and Lasanta, at the Glenmorangie HQ in Edinburgh, in an enthralling circular space known as “The Snug”, which showcases pretty much every whisky produced by the company in the modern age – wow!.  It was my first hit of Cadboll, and my first of Lasanta since the the finishing casks were changed from exclusively Oloroso to Oloroso and PX some four years ago.  The former, post-graduating from Muscat and Semillon casks, is a delicious sponge cake of sweet, polished flavours that’ll appeal to a broad range of palates, but especially to fans of Nectar d’Or.  It’s a Travel Retail exclusive so look out for it next time you’re going abroad.  The latter is a personal favourite, but I detected something on this occasion, a burnt flavour, somewhere between toasted sugar and an extinguished match, that I hadn’t previously noticed.  Whether this observation is derived from the new cask profile, or a function of my past inattention, is less important than the additional layer it ostensibly bequeaths to my perception of an already full flavoured whisky.  I won’t be waiting another four years.  The main show though was Allta, gaelic for ‘wild’, a nod to its raison d’être, a strain of wild yeast growing on the ears of Glenmorangie’s own cadboll barley identified by none other than the company’s whisky chief Dr. Bill Lumsden, and now catalysing this whisky’s fermentation.  An aside: the yeast was cultivated for production by South African-affiliated yeast supplier Lallemand.  The underlying rationale for Allta is that yeast variations are an unfortunate rarity in Scotch whisky.  In Dr. Bill’s words: “Yeast’s influence on taste has been overlooked for years, but it’s an area ripe for exploration”.  Perhaps taking a leaf from the Japanese whisky play book, which prescribes prolific experimentation with yeast, he’s created (yet another) whisky worthy of its place in this hallowed collection.  The liquid has much in common with The Original, its half sibling of similar age and cask profile, but is palpably fuller and more robust, bristling on the palate like a Rioja.  Earthy and herbaceous on the nose, waxy, bready and floral, with hints of mint and corn, it relaxes into a sweet, typically vanilla finish.  The distinctions pedestal yeast’s contribution to flavour, as I’m sure was the intention.  This in my opinion is a whisky to be bought and appreciated for three reasons: for its own innate value, for its place in this riveting Private Edition whisky story (to be enjoyed like a series of riveting, unmissable novels), and for making tangible the role of yeast in whisky creation.

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The Snug at Glenmorangie’s HQ

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The Snug at Glenmorangie’s HQ

Arbikie Highland Rye

Estate producers Arbikie are liquor all-rounders, better known for producing vodkas and gins.  How then, with no relevant credentials, do you get noticed on your first foray into an arena as crowded as Scotch whisky?  The answer: do something no-one’s ever done before (or at least, not for a long time).  The Arbikie Highland Rye’s premise is that it’s the first Scotch rye whisky produced in the last hundred odd years.  I guess that this makes it just a single grain in the Scotch Whisky Association classification, but unofficially I’ll happily concede that it’s rather unique and special.  Now let’s get the bad news out of the way upfront – this is a one-of-its-kind product, with a limited bottling of 998, factors driving a unit price of some R4.5k, which is clearly excessive for a young, barely legal whisky.  Then again, there’s no pretence of value for money – that’s not the idea.  There’s also lots of good news to even things out.  My experience of Arbikie Highland Rye left me with some striking impressions.  Firstly, rye brings something to the Scotch party – there’s enough here to persist and forge onwards with this experiment, which I believe Arbikie is doing; Secondly, this is one of the richest, fullest three year old whiskies I’ve ever tasted.  Whether it’s the rye, the casks, the small batch craftsmanship, or a combination that’s responsible can be debated, but the result is remarkable regardless.  Lastly, rye and sherry do great bedfellows make.  This is an unusual combination, which I’d never encountered before.  American straight rye whiskey is legislated to be aged only in new oak, and although the industry is increasingly breaking these shackles, variations are not commonplace.  But they should be.  Going by Arbikie Highland Rye – which has been “enhanced” in PX casks for 3-6 months – there’s evidence that this partnership works a treat.  If you’re in the fervent niche that’s dedicated to exploring new whisky horizons you may just have to throw pecuniary caution to the wind.

As it appeared: https://whiskymag.co.za/two-whiskies-to-reaffirm-your-faith/

 

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