The Weekly Mash, Friday 5th September
Howdy folks and welcome to this week’s Mash that looks at language, flavour, packaging, supermarkets and the power of three words. Here’s three from Tormore and a new RyeLaw from Inchdairnie as well .. what are you waiting for?
See you next week.
Three Little Words
I’ve become mildly obsessed with geolocation app What Three Words which has placed a 3×3-metre grid over the planet and given each square a three-word title. I fear prolonged exposure has resulted into me reading too much into the word selection.
Are the three words random or is there some occult pattern behind them? Can they act as some sort of mythic pathway of navigation? Linguistic ley lines which when understood can give you safe passage through the world?
I’m naturally susceptible to this. I once went on a three-week trip to Mexico discovering the country’s different types of agave spirit. Some visits were planned, others were left to chance, resulting in us navigating through the wilds of Oaxaca by the suggestions in Eno’s ‘Oblique Strategies’ – a 100 deck of cards with gnomic phrases intended to break a creative block.
At every crossroads we’d take a card and interpret what the phrase told us – and it worked! By the end of the trip, Eno’s oracular powers were dictating every decision we made. Now it’s happening again.
The potency of three words is everywhere. The Rule of Three informs us that we only retain three points from an hour-long presentation, which is a tad depressing to someone whose tastings can ramble on for twice that length. I’ve tried to follow the template, but digression is where the most interesting facts can be found. Life is about unlikely connections, the linking pattern underneath… and we’re back to What Three words again…
That said, the rule of three does have its uses – and can apply to whisky in certain circumstances. Yes, there is a role for the in-depth tasting note, long-form article, or study course, but they are of little use if you are a bartender and only have 30 seconds to describe a whisky to a customer. How do you boil whisky down – distil it even – into, well, three words?
You don’t have time to expound upon the details of fermentation times, or cask interaction and anyway, let’s face it, the customer only wants to know two things: what does it taste like what and will they like it?
Only one response is required. ‘What do you usually drink?’ By understanding their flavour preferences you can narrow down the options. That means that you have to know the flavours of all of the whiskies on the back bar, which in turn is why education programmes are so vital – especially at time when sales are sticky.
It was this thinking which lay behind the Diageo Malt Flavour Map (RIP). The wall of whisky behind a bar, or on a supermarket’s shelves is daunting. How do you – as bartender, retailer or punter – navigate your way through this selection and make an informed decision? By flavour.
The map was divided in two axes – light to heavy, and delicate to smoky. There was no hierarchy in place, no regional character. Each whisky was plotted because of its flavour. It seemed to work.
The underlying reason for working like this, or arranging whiskies into flavour camps, is to give the customer confidence. A few key words is all that’s needed to eliminate the worry. Being able to say ‘this is fruity,’ ‘this is smoky’ is empowering.
There are a number of reasons why we pick up a bottle in a supermarket – price, packaging which causes the eye to stop scanning for a few seconds, but neither indicate flavour. The most important element in that purchasing decision – will I, or the person I’m buying it for, like it? isn’t answered. The bottles sit, silent, not giving anything away. You either reach for a name you recognise and hope for the best… or you walk away.
Research undertaken by Jura showed that around two thirds of people looking to pick up a bottle of whisky in a supermarket left empty-handed, ‘because choosing a whisky is too confusing.’ Hopefully, they then go to a specialist retailer and get a human being to help but I wouldn’t bet on it.
The other insight was that, ‘one of the most important things people want is to have confidence and reassurance about how the whisky will taste.’ Flavour!
The result of this has been a repackaging for the brand, with the label on each expression now carrying a scale of three key flavours measured in strength from zero to six.
Jura 12yo (which by the way has replaced the old 10yo) has flavours of Peach (4) Citrus (3), and Walnut (3). Long tasting notes have been disposed of. There’s no techy terminology. Just flavour. Three words that everyone will understand. It makes a huge amount of sense and helps the bemused, but interested consumer.
Might this initiative finally result in supermarkets rearranging their chaotic fixtures by flavour? They might see more whisky being sold. I’m available 😉
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A Musing
I hate to moan, but hey… Why, oh why, oh why do distillers and suppliers have a ‘Contact Us’ box or ‘info@‘ address on their websites if they never respond to the question? Maybe they could employ someone to answer?
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In My Glass
There’s an element of slight return here as I’ve covered releases from these two stills recently, but I popped into Tormore this week and it would be rude not to offer my thanks by looking at the latest bottlings from the revived distillery. All are vattings of a selection of casks from the stated year. Oh, and a ‘not yet whisky’ from Elixir’s new and improved regime was looking wonderful.
Tormore Legacy Casks, 2012 (£60.6%/£74.95)
Unsurprisingly, this is pretty hot on the nose (and the mouth). Flighty and light, with lots of green stuff flying around: garden twine, herbs, nettles, pear, lime.
The palate, when calmed with water, is more substantial than the nose suggests with cordial-like thickness, some light vanilla, lemon and, on the back palate, a sharp umeshu-esque bite.
Tormore Legacy Casks, 2009 (47.4%/£95)
Light and spring-like with punchy, aromatic estery fruits: tinned pineapple, more of the pear (and apple) alongside delicate rose petals. A delicate powdery quality emerges with water without diminishing the intensity.
The palate adds in melon dusted with powdered ginger, grapefruit and a perception of acidity. Late on, it expands nicely and you re-enter the rose garden You lose some of the dynamism with water, so be careful, but the flow smoothes out and adds yuzu-scented shortbread.
Tormore Legacy Casks, 2003 (44.9%/£175)
Some maturity at work here. Fuller, with a hint of waxiness, mirabelle, white chocolate (Milky Bar) and caramelised peach.
Tormore’s floral side pops up on the tip of the tongue alongside some light nut, whipped cream, and poached pear. There’s more coffee, and banana breed with ice cream when very lightly diluted
Inchdairnie RyeLaw Vintage 2018, (46.3%/£79.99)
This is the second release of the Fife distillery’s rye whisky. Made from the same 53% malted rye/47% malted barley mashbill, the twist this time is the use of charred new oak casks sourced from Appalachia.
The nose leads you straight into a bakery: cookie dough, Swedish cinnamon buns, rye bread/pumpernickel and spiced caramel, before a greener element begins to build: fennel leaf, pine sap. There’s a touch of char and, with water, some chocolate powder.
Though initially there’s more intensity here than on the first release – that more direct oak influence helping to push up the allspice/peppery rye – in the middle of the tongue this is calmed by the unctuous texture and the emergence of a floral note. Quietly assertive.
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In My Ears
I was tempted to put in the six hour mix of Jah Shaka dubplates on YouTube which has pretty much blown my speakers – and if you are a fellow aficionado then I heartily recommend it, but on the off-chance that you’re not into the heaviest of dub, Ryan Davis & The Roadhouse Band’s ‘New Threats From The Soul’ will keep you very happy indeed. Long, rambling, complex, amusing, thoughtful songwriting. Take a trip.