Whisky Online Blog

Glengoyne, "untainted by humility or common-sense."

I like Glengoyne, it’s one of those spirits that seems to age to fruit laced perfection between 28-38 years while younger expressions often display a spicy, flavoursome verve. In short: frequently delicious, often complex, always entertaining whisky. However, for me there is one nigglesome thing about Glengoyne that is written on every bloody bottle and that is the self-aggrandising slogan “untainted by the harshness of peat smoke”. Now I am not a peat-freak, I’ve tried to cultivate a healthy appreciation for all styles of whisky/key, so it really pisses me off when I see this kind of snobbishness lofted around by the distillery owners themselves (surely snobbery is our department?). It’s not all that common thankfully, most whiskies are refreshingly modest in their packaging, but just occasionally this sort of gushing, nonsensical crap can squeeze through and Glengoyne have long been one of the worst offenders. Here is an example from the blurb that is printed on the back of the seventeen year old bottling:

“Unlike most other single malt whiskies, Glengoyne has traditionally dried its malted barley using only warm air. This ensures that there is no overwhelming peat smoke in the finished malt. The result is a subtle, complex and generally more satisfying whisky is which all of the delicate flavours are fully expressed.”

Indulge me for a moment while I analyze a few tidbits from this blurbery. First up is the use of the word ‘traditionally’. I think you’ll find Mr Glengoyne that ‘traditionally’, ie over 100 years ago for arguments sake, almost all barley would have been dried with some kind of peat, wood or coal, thus deriving some phenolic traces from the resulting smoke and fumes. If you are fortunate enough to taste any whisky produced before WW2 you’ll be hard pressed to find anything without obvious traces of peat. Completely air dried barley is a more modern phenomena. Secondly, the “generally more satisfying” comment, or massive sweeping generalisation to be more precise. Surely this is entirely down to mood and taste? If on a gentle summers evening with friends I am offered a Glengoyne as an aperitif before dinner I’m sure it would capture the essence of the moment like few other malts could. However if I arrive at a warm fireplace in a welcoming bar in the dead of winter after trekking twelve miles through a soul-shredding, sub-zero blizzard, covered in the frozen blood of the wounded deer to which I had to administer a mercy killing, things will be somewhat different. In those circumstances my first thoughts are not “Man I really fancy something delicately floral with a wealth of subtle malty complexities.” No, I want something with enough peat to turn my ear wax flammable and cause tufts of sphagnum moss to start sprouting through my beard!

Peat, sometimes there's no such thing as too much.

Now as fantastic as some Glengoyne bottlings are I think they need to be taken down a peg or two with this whole peat malarkey. So here is a list of peated whiskies that I think almost all serious whisky lovers would probably rate higher in terms of quality and complexity than almost all Glengoynes. Ever. So there!

Endless Ardbeg bottlings distilled before 1977.

A plethora of Legendary Laphroaigs from pre 1978.

Countless Bowmores distilled pre 1974

Almost all Broras from before the mid seventies.

Several legendary Port Ellens

Many of the Longrow bottlings from 1973/1974

Some phenomenal casks of Glen Garioch from the late sixties/early seventies.

Almost any old Lagavulin 12yo white label.

Many fantastic old bottlings of Talisker.

Not to mention some stunning expressions of Highland Park, 1972 Ledaig, Ardmore and Caol Ila that benefit enormously from varying degrees of peat.

Obviously that is a very personal list but it is also a list that covers many of the most desirable and expensive bottlings in the world, bottlings that have become so for a very good reason. I’ll wager a single bottle of Laphroaig 10yo from the fifties would be worth more to most people than almost any Glengoyne you could think of. This is because maybe there is something about the greatest examples of peated whisky, the way they manage to retain all the subtleties of malt and fruit but with so much more, something that truly hooks peoples hearts and minds. I feel a bit bad after all that, I’m being a little unfair to Glengoyne, please remember I love the whisky, I just hate the anti peat comments. Glengoyne isn’t untainted by peat smoke, it’s just unpeated, in the same way that Lagavulin is not ‘enhanced by peat smoke’. While I wouldn’t like to see Glengoyne’s character change, I also wouldn’t like to see every other distillery making unpeated spirit as well. Variety is the spice of life and Glengoyne’s patter reads like some kind of warped whisky racism.

Glengoyne 40yo, good whisky but if only it had a little more peat. (just kidding)

I think having ranted about poor Glengoyne for so long it’s now time to redress the balance and say something much more positive about their great whisky. I tried the new(ish) 40yo in London recently and loved it but I’ve only just gotten round to writing notes for it.

Glengoyne 40yo. OB. 1968-2009. Single sherry butt. 250 bottles. 45.9%. 70cl.

Colour: Old Tokaji

Nose: High polished antique sherry with lots of bubbly fruits underneath and some remarkably fresh notes of crisp green apples and fresh limes. Hints of honeysuckle, toffee, wild flowers, cereal and butterscotch. This is really typical of these great old Glengoynes and their uber fruit style. Now there are notes of beeswax, marzipan, pear liqueur, old books, sultanas, many fruit syrups and cordials with a really gentle custardy/vanilla undertone. Lovely complexity to the nose, lets see if the palate can keep up…

Palate: Big, round, fruity and intensely concentrated, massive notes of orange liqueur, seville orange marmalade, milk chocolate, pine resin, menthol, tobacco leaf and more orange rind. This is really orangey whisky, the futures bright for Glengoyne (sorry!). Now comes greengages, more sultanas and raisins, kumquats, lychee and mulling spices. Hints of wood, spice and hessian follow with a lovely drying tinge at the end.

Finish: Long and filled with all the same fruity complexity and resinous, mouth-coating glee.

Comments: Great old whisky, we’ll forget the price for now but it is fantastic old Glengoyne with all the distillery’s trademark complexity and fruit. Considering what the 17yo has to say about the evils of peat I wonder if as you go up the Glengoyne range the older and more expensive the whiskies become the more vicious the denouncements of peat become. So on the 21yo it states “None of that brown boggy shit in this whisky” and next year’s 40yo will simply state “FUCK ALL PEAT!!!!! WORSHIP THE GOD OF NAKED MALT!!!!” Or something along those lines anyway. The Glengoyne marketing guys can have that idea for free. All I ask in return is a case of Laphroaig. And £1 million.

Score: 92/100

Winters in Alsace are cold and, like in Scotland, that cold has arrived swift and early this year. But there is something different about it here, the air is crisper and drier, there is a breeze but it is brittle and icy and seems to fold itself around you rather than cut mercilessly into you like it has done in Glasgow these past days. Saturday the 27th brings a bright, snowy morning, one that is livid with pin sharp winter sunlight and a clear, cold blue pane of sky. Perfect conditions for what has been dubbed D-Day by Serge and his friends.

Dead vines from the numerous surrounding vineyards that cover the sloping hills around Turckheim are used to fire the Lambic still.

In Alsace, as in many parts of France and surrounding European countries, it is legal to hire a small still and do some home distilling. In Alsace, with its plethora of wild fruit trees and vineyards, it is a common practice to turn excess fruit into ‘eau de vie’ (water of life), a clear spirit born of fermented and double distilled fruit. Serge has turned his annual distillation day (D-Day) into a celebration of food, wine, whisky and friends. We gather at around ten am in his garden just in time to see the still being lit. It is a small Lambic style still which is directly fired (see above), regulated by a water jacket and condensed with what could be described as a worm tub except for the fact that it is a straight copper column running through a vat of cold water. In other words about as close to old style farm distilling as it’s possible to get. It is a charmingly odd looking creation but one which creates beautifully full, oily and fragrant spirit.

The lid of the still is attached.

This year’s fruit is Quetch. A couple of months prior to D-Day Serge puts the fruit into a plastic fermentation bin in his garage and leaves it to ferment naturally and slowly. By the time D-Day comes the fruit is an alcoholic liquid mulch, the flesh has broken down and all the stones have sunk to the bottom of the container. This ‘fruit wash’ for want of a better description is simply tipped into the still, sealed in and left to heat up. The stones are also put into the still, this is essential as they contribute crucial flavour pre-cursors and oily congeners which give the spirit nutty, oily, full bodied characteristics. As the still heats up the temperature is regulated by keeping the wood fire burning slowly on a low heat. If it heats up too much the spirit will be forced through the still too quickly and many of the more complex esters and fruit compounds will be lost amongst too much methanol and heavier, fattier compounds. The still needs to be run slowly and consistently to enable the best possible separation of desirable flavours.

The still in all its unassuming glory.

The lyne arm on this tiny still is sharply sloping as you can see and the condenser is little more than a straight copper tube so the oilier aspects of the spirit are always accentuated. The resultant distillate is oily, nutty and filled with the character of its base product. Lots of fleshy stone fruit character, mouth coating, viscous fruit flavours and flickering complexities of flowers, butter, herbs, citrus and oils. A very beautiful, rustic spirit, one that is well worth seeking out. If you can get your hands on a good eau de vie then try it because they are relatively inexpensive in comparison to whisky and can be quite a beautiful example of the natural complexities and flavours inherent in skilled distillation.

In these photos the still is disgorged after the first distillation...

...the mulch and the stones from the distilled fruit is removed...

...it may look like fake vomit but it is actually very useful as compost for the garden.

The water jacket empties as the still is tipped, it's pretty much a big steam-fest.

This is a fascinating process to watch and in all honesty all I could think while I was watching this was how easy it would be to do it at home in Scotland and make some very old style, illicit whisky. It is a real eye opener into the fundamental basics of how easy it is to make and distill something. Yes there are a great deal of subtleties involved in commercial distilling but as a basic recipe for something strong, tasty and drinkable it is a very simple process. No wonder it was a source of booze and income for generations of Scottish crofters and farmers. To ferment and then to distill a small batch of barley would not be too far from easy. Oh dear, so many plans forming in my brain… Anyway, while distilling is underway there is much else going on during D-Day, it is also a celebration involving a multitude of local cuisines.

Locally made Foie Gras is liberally served by the trough. I'm all for animal rights but on this occasion I'll have to surrender to how utterly delicious this stuff is and say sod the Goose.

Fresh oysters appeared out of nowhere shortly after the Foie Gras and were understandably popular.

A reserve Henny 1971 Mandelberg Riesling. Legendary vintage, stunning wine!

One of the most important components of the day, despite its basis in distillation, was wine. Arguably the most central pivot around which French culture has been constructed through the centuries, wine is inseparable from these kinds of gatherings. From Burgundy to Bordeaux every region has its own nuances of style, tradition, terroir and people and Alsace is certainly no exception. The wines made here are among some of the finest white wines on the planet, a diverse mix of bone dry through to lip-smackingly sweet wines that ache under the weight of residual sugars. Alsace is famed for varieties such as Pinot Gris, Pinot Blanc, Muscat, Sylvaner and, most famously, Gewurztraminer and Riesling. In the best examples the combination of terroir and climactic variations around Alsace creates wines of stunning mineral quality. Taught, crisp, smoky Rieslings and rich, petroly, oily, fruit-laden Gewurztraminers, all crawling with devastatingly expressive terroir characteristics. While these wines can often be divisive to many palates, if you acquire a taste for them it will be a life long love affair with those inimitable arrays of flavours. The wines are at once austere yet sexy, bone dry yet apparently sweeter from such bold fruit characters, powerful yet simultaneously elegant and reserved. Perhaps most importantly in this case they are wines that often appeal to whisky drinkers, the smoky qualities in Rieslings and Pinot Gris, or the lushness of some of the sweeter examples and Gewurztraminers can all appeal to the whisky drinker’s palate. Just go try them.

Some of the other beautiful Alsace Rieslings we tried that morning. All from the great 07 vintage, bone dry and alive with minerals and buttery fruit characters. These kinds of wines are just crying out for food and good company.

I could go on about D-Day, about the fun that was had, the two glorious meals, the wines that came later, the banter, but really I think it’s best I don’t lest I get irrevocably carried away. So lets finish up with a wee tasting of two other drams I was very lucky to try this weekend. Thanks Serge!

Ledaig from its glory years in the early seventies.

Ledaig 1974-2000. Gordon & MacPhail Rare Old collection. 40%. 70cl.

Colour: Straw

Nose: A nice, gentle combination of fresh butter, herbs and smoky pebble notes. Greengages, pomegranates, limes and notes of salt beef. Quite a delicate Ledaig this, further proof of its wildly variable peating levels. Develops more notes of butter and dried mushrooms with some clean cereal and fresh citrus elements as well. Quite appropriately this even has something of that smoky mineral riesling quality about it. A very clean and drying mineral nose here, lots of sub aromas of buttered toast, breakfast cereals a subtle honey fragrances too.

Palate: Now there is some more peat but it’s full of more adult themed breakfast cereals like muesli and all bran with hints of candied peel, orange rind, baking soda and even a little whiff of cardboard. Granite, turmeric, soda bread and pencil shavings, quite unusual and not a little weird to be honest. It’s not unpleasant but it’s a bit more Tobermory than Ledaig to my palate. Not that that’s a bad thing of course, I was just hoping for a bit more peat fug. A few more drying minerals, a little vanilla, caramel and some more confectionary penny sweets.

Finish: Not too long but has some very delicate medicinal notes and nice grassy and buttery touches, becoming quite coastal.

Comments: Nice old island whisky, not too complex and not as peaty as hoped but still very quaffable. Once again, as with so many G&M bottlings, this really should have been bottled at full strength, but then that’s just a given these days isn’t it.

Score: 84/100

Now we're talking: 1972! Yeah baby!!!

Ledaig 1972-1990. 18yo. James MacArthur’s. 55.9%. 75cl.

Colour: Gold

Nose: Mmmmm… ahsy, sooty coal notes with big dollops of mercurochrome, tincture, iodine and hospitals. Really pristine coastal quality, bags of fresh oysters in lemon juice, sea salt, wet pebbles and taught mineral notes. Farmy notes of cow stables, manure, sheep fank and peat start to muscle in underneath pretty quickly as well. Brilliant combination of all these different farmy/coastal qualities. Hints of herbs, pancetta, olive oil and more of these really wonderful, pungent notes of fresh, high quality sea salt, the kind you buy in small boxes for £10 from Waitrose. With water it gets very grassy and fresh with earthy, rooty peat aromas and some fantastic wood smoke and barbeque sauce notes.

Palate: Big, lumpy medicinal and oily flavours come first, then some surprising flowery notes like geranium and juniper. Now it becomes a little sweeter with some dazzling notes of white pepper, marzipan and white stone fruits. Pretty hot so lets add a little water… more big, galumphing peat flavours with some very elegant medicinal tones coming through behind. Citrus rind, acid drops, creosote, tar and old kreel nets. Ok enough, it’s fab old Ledaig.

Finish: Long and does that fanfare of peat, medicine and coastal minerality.

Comments: It would appear that many 1972 Ledaigs are what some might call ‘the shit’.

Score: 92/100

Ledaig Whisky (pronounced Led-Chig)

Peated whisky distilled at Tobermory distillery on the Isle of Mull.

Founded: 1798 but with very sporadic production history.

Peating: Very variable but from 1972 about 40ppm, lower throughout eighties and early nineties. Returned to approximately 35-40ppm in the mid nineties.

Capacity: 1 million litres

Stills: 4. 2 wash and 2 spirit. Ledaig is produced through one pair and Tobermory through another.

Ledaig is one of the most inconsistent and frustrating spirits for whisky lovers. It was first produced in 1972 when the Tobermory distillery was reopened after more than four decades of silence. Although for a while all spirit produced was peated and called Ledaig, this changed soon enough and it became the name given to all peated malt produced at this distillery. It is only now becoming widely available as a single malt due to renewed investment and promotion by its owners Burn Stewart.

1972-1975: Intense, oily, visceral peat. Dry, minerals, vibrant fruit and coastality.

When the distillery was re-opened after many years in 1972 it was actually named Ledaig however many casks were labelled as Tobermory also and almost all production in these years was peated. To this day whiskies from these years are still being bottled and they often betray the rich peat character of the distillate. Younger expressions bottled in the eighties are considered the greatest examples of Ledaig. Produced in an old style way, with slower fermentation and distillation methods, these bottlings are classics. Every bit as potent as many Islay whiskies from the same time, they balance intense peat flavours with beautiful coastal and fruit laden undercurrents. They are expensive but well worth seeking out. Sadly the distillery was closed again in 1975.

1979-1993. Diminishing peat, salty, often quite fruity but sometimes excessively honeyed and cardboardy.

The distillery was re-opened in 1979 and distilled two separate spirits, peated Ledaig and un-peated Tobermory. These years, as for all distilleries, were years of change. Production methods were rapidly modernising, paving the way for the mass production of malt whisky.  The character of Ledaig from the late seventies and early eighties can often contain some very attractive tropical and green fruit character laced with some peat oils and delicate smokiness. The best examples of this are in the old red label 20yo and blue label 15yo official bottlings. However the peat is very variable. By the end of the eighties the peat levels were incredibly inconsistent and it is from these years that the most frustrating Ledaigs can come. Many bottlings can seem almost unpeated, showing more in the way of spiciness, coastal characters and honey. They can be very flavoursome whiskies but they often lack something.

Mid 1990s –present day: Re-instigation of higher peat levels, dryer, smoky, grassy and salty.

The modern era of production at Tobermory has seen an intensification of the peat levels in Ledaig, this is most apparent in the current 10yo bottling. However the whisky is markedly thinner in texture and mouthfeel, it does not have the oiliness that it once possessed. However this is common with many modern whiskies. As these casks age we will see how the spirit develops but it is certainly more consistent than it has been for a long time and the rewarding peaty, island character intensity is back. Some recent young bottlings have in fact been immensely powerful and of fantastic quality. Whatever happens Ledaig remains one of the most frustrating, yet oddly endearing characters in the whisky world.