I often get asked, “How come you don’t provide more tasting notes like everyone else?” I don’t feel like it. That’s why.
Happy dramming,
Ryan
Wait. Sorry. That was a curt response to a genuine question. A few months ago, I wrote a piece entitled, “For Entertainment Purposes Only,” where I ever so gently skewered the homogeneous nature of bourbon reviews on YouTube. To be honest, most whisky reviews are more similar than different. Brief introduction, nose, mouth, finish, closing remarks. This format is repeated over and over again for good reason. It’s what people want. What they don’t want is some guy from Vancouver Island droning on about the importance of the 1860 Spirits Act (at least not yet). Person A is interested in Whisky B. Person A goes online, and reads/watches as many reviews as he or she can about Whisky B. If the reviews are mostly positive, Person A buys Whisky B. Jim Murray may have popularized this approach, but long before his Whisky Bible descended from the heavens, there was Michael Jackson.
Jackson’s Malt Whisky Companion spawned the template now used by whisk(e)y bloggers all over the world. A dash of history, colour, nose, body, palate, finish, score. His work was concise (he had a background in journalism), humble, and buzzword-free. When he felt a whisky was “less than perfect,” he phrased his concerns carefully and with respect. Whisky wasn’t his only passion. He was a celebrated beer writer, and one of the first to analyze its many styles. Jackson also coined the phrase for a series of lesser-known malts with interesting labels.
Diageo owns nearly 30% of all distilleries in Scotland, but only a select few are available as single malts. The rest (for the most part) are given the unenviable task of providing structure for Diageo-owned blends like Johnnie Walker, J&B, and Bell’s. In 1991, United Distillers (Diageo) gave their plow horses a chance to shine. They were each assigned a “creature,” which was then displayed on the front label in a tasteful manner. United didn’t have a name for the set, so Jackson started calling them “Flora and Fauna” whiskies in his Companion. The clever nickname was soon adopted by the company. Mortlach had a merganser (a type of fish-eating duck) on its label. For the longest time, it was the only Mortlach you could buy (aside from the occasional Gordon & MacPhail offering). It’s (sadly) no longer available, but, in a way, still is.
The Mortlach 16 of today has a fair bit in common with its web-footed predecessor. They’re both 16 years of age and matured exclusively in ex-sherry casks. Despite its low bottling strength (43.4%), the modern 16 has a nice, heavy mouthfeel. This might have something to do with how it’s made. Generally speaking, the more a whisky is exposed to copper during distillation, the lighter it’s going to be. Mortlach run their stills as though their spirit is allergic to copper. Dark fruits, spice, toffee, char. A touch of pepper. I don’t wanna be startin' somethin', but if you think this whisky is bad, you can just beat it (sorry, I couldn’t resist).
Happy dramming,
Ryan