I wasn't going to post about this one at first; it's neither single malt nor scotch. The more I thought about it however, the more it seemed like an ideal opportunity to compare/contrast the two major nationalities of malt whisk(e)y. Not just the taste either, everything about this Irish whiskey was a little different tweak on what I have come to expect from its Scottish cousins.
The telltale oblong parcel was delivered on an bitingly cold, sub-freezing day last week. Even the cardboard was icy cold to the touch. When I slid the bottle out of its package, I immediately noticed the whiskey was cloudy and completely opaque. On display was a natural phenomenon seen in spirits lower than 46% ABV that have not undergone 'chill filtration'. When subjected to temperatures between -10°C and 4°C (usually via ice cubes; delivery truck in this case), residual fatty acids, proteins, and esters precipitate out of solution and cause the cottony clouding effect. Chill filtration removes these compounds in lower alcohol spirits to maintain the liquid's clarity, but many decry the loss of flavor and character inherent in the process. Anyway, from what I saw it seems this particular 42% ABV whiskey had not been chill filtered. So far, so good.
The label reads, "Glendalough Triple Barrel Irish Whiskey: Ireland's first craft distillery", as well as "Limited Edition bottle #142/156", "Batch 22, Madeira cask #4", a bottling date (9/7/2015), and the Taster's Club logo. 'Triple barrel', 'craft distillery', and 'limited edition', are all great buzzwords, but knowing so little about Irish whiskey, it seemed prudent to do a little research about what I was about to drink.
First of all, was this a single malt? Vatted? A blend? 'Single pot still' whiskey? No indication whatsoever is given on the label, but it turns out this is a single grain Irish whiskey with a mash bill of both malted barley and corn. Confusingly, 'single grain' does not mean 'one grain', but merely produced by a single distillery. Unlike the SWA's (78 page magnum opus) 2009 Scotch Whisky Regulations, the Irish Whiskey Act of 1980, (one page, double-spaced) establishes no such guidelines defining specific sub-categories.
Glendalough does release 7 and 13 year old 'single malt' expressions, but as the facility did not begin production until 2011, these were obviously distilled elsewhere (a disqualification under scotch guidelines). Speaking of the SWA, they do have a history of going after non-Scottish whisk(e)y manufacturers who dare to use the name 'Glen-'. Glendalough ("Glen of Two Lakes") gets a pass on that, quite possibly because the Irish invented whisk(e)y. Sorry, Glen Breton (Canada), you've been served.
"Triple Barrel". It took me a while to get used to saying 'casks' instead of barrels, as is the norm when conversing about scotch, but I suppose now I've reached that point where it sounds weird to use the term 'barrel' associated with whisk(e)y. "Aged for 3 and a half years in bourbon barrels, six months in oloroso sherry barrels, and finished in Madeira butts." Obviously much younger than most scotch whiskys would advertise, but also curiously leaving off the 'first fill' designation for its bourbon casks that drives the price up considerably.
The 'Limited Edition bottle #142/156' designation is a tad misleading as well but not by much. Glendalough filled six Madeira butts with their standard Double Barrel expression. A standard 'butt' holds 600 L by volume, though usually filled to roughly 500 L. Theoretically, there should be 4,000 750 mL bottles of this expression out there, still very much worthy of the 'limited edition' stamp, yet a far cry from the mere 156 inferred on the label (simply the count set aside for Taster's Club subscribers). I found several online vendors (Redstone, Maximum Beverage, Traino's, etc.) each touting their stash of 156 bottles of this stuff, so I imagine there are 20-something other such 156 bottle collections out there. Points for shrewd marketing at least.
'Ireland's first craft distillery' seems pretty straightforward, though very telling about the Irish whiskey industry at large. Old Bushmills, Jameson/New Midleton, and Cooley/Kilbeggan were the only three distilleries the Emerald Isle had to offer heading into this decade (Scotland had more than 100), and all are owned by mega-beverage conglomerates. Glendalough began distilling in 2011, and has since began exporting poitin (a distillate of beets and malted barley), whiskey, and a botanical gin. Almost a dozen more independent craft distilleries have begun production since Glendalough. Hopefully this trend will continue and help elevate the status of the Irish whiskey industry back to its former glory in the not so distant future,
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| Coffey Still diagram |
The weekend finally arrived and I got my chance to pull the cork on this new whiskey, only to find another quirky difference...no cork. Screw top?! Unlike wine, whisk(e)y has absolutely no need for cork. It can be to its detriment if anything, yet I can't say I've ever seen a screw top single malt scotch. American, Canadian, and Japanese whisk(e)y producers have no such compunction against screw tops, but I'm hardwired to think of it as chintzy somehow. As an aside, I had always assumed the city of Cork, Ireland naturally had some historical role within the cork industry; but alas no, it turns out I'm an idiot. The vast majority of the world's cork supply comes from Spain and Portugal (remember Ferdinand the Bull's favorite tree?).
The whiskey was surprisingly dark for such a light nose, amber even. Springtime floral character on the nose, lemongrass, sawdust, golden raisins, perfumed hand sanitizer. No smoke, no oak, maybe a hint of spice wafting about. Very soft and clean, but pull away from the glass and the aromas vanish faster than chips on a craps table.
Faring heftier on the palate: caramel, brown sugar, honey, peaches, and vanilla. Moving it around, I can pull out some sherry notes - dried fruit, almonds, tannins. Everything still quite muted though. Creamy, almost syrupy thick consistency. Smooth and round. At this point, I'm resigned to drinking breakfast whiskey until...
BAM! Right at the back of the palate and into the finish, an uppercut sucker punch of warming, peppery bourbon packing a respectable wallop. It doesn't last long, doesn't need to, but it's like a balloon of repressed flavors has finally burst. John Barleycorn finally answered the doorbell. More corn than malt for sure, trailing off with a lingering charcoal oak note.
I can't say what effect the Madeira cask aging might have had. I just don't know enough about it, and from I've read it sounds like the Portuguese version of sherry, but aged under prolonged heated conditions (historically, in the hold of a ship). I suppose it would help to taste this side by side with its Double Barrel counterpart.
Overall Grade: 80/100, B-
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