Author: Carolyn Wynnack

  • Aberlour A’bunadh Alba // The Original

    Aberlour A’bunadh Alba // The Original

    It’s only the second day of a shortened work week, but this Whisky Wednesday dram has been well-earned, so I picked a strong one.

    Tonight I’m sipping on Aberlour A’Bunadh Alba, Batch 002. I had a bottle of Batch 001 in the early months of the pandemic, when closures and restrictions left me with little to do but expand my whisky palate, and it was the first Speyside malt that truly piqued my interest. Speyside whiskies tend toward a lighter, fruitier flavor profile with bits of spice. This whisky has fruit and spice, but light? No.

    A’Bunadh Alba is distinct from the distillery’s A’Bunadh line in that it’s aged in ex-Bourbon American Oak barrels rather than Oloroso Sherry butts.

    A’Bunadh is Scots Gaelic for “the original” and points to the distillery’s founder, James Fleming, who set the distillery near the banks of the River Spey in the late 1800s. Alba is also Gaelic, referring to the country that we know as Scotland. It’s pronounced al-a-bah (or al-a-pah) rather than al-buh, thanks to the secret Svarabhakti vowel tucked inside (see Actual Scottish Person Len Pennie for details).

    The A’Bunadh Alba sits in the bottle at nearly 60% ABV, a cask-strength whisky with a solid burn and a color like golden honey. Apple pie, cinnamon, and honey tickle the nose and carry through to the palate. A bourbon-style woodiness tinged with warm fruit lingers on the tongue to finish it out.

    This is a whisky you’ll feel as much as you taste. A few drops of water mellow out some of the harsher qualities and yet seem to heighten the whisky’s acidity at the same time.

    It’s not a whisky for the feint of heart, but perfect for the longest short week ever.

    Sláinte, y’all!

    In My Glass

    🥃
    Aberlour A’Bunadh Alba Batch 002
    Single Malt Scotch Whisky
    NAS; 58.7% ABV
    Scotland (Speyside)

    On My Desk

    1961 Lettera 22, Made in Glasgow

  • Walsh Whiskey Writers’ Tears Copper Pot // Writer’s Block

    Walsh Whiskey Writers’ Tears Copper Pot // Writer’s Block

    There could not be a more appropriate choice for Whisk(e)y Wednesday this week than Writers’ Tears Irish Whiskey. It’s been a while – too long – since I had a proper writing session, or even some sense of direction on the page. Writer’s block is real, folks. And keenly tied to writer’s anxiety. 😳

    I’m just starting to come out of the fog, the clearer skies evidenced by a small but growing stack of books I’ve recently read. When I read, I write, and vice versa.

    And, of course, whisky helps. Or, with a spelling more apt for today’s dram, whiskey.

    Writers’ Tears was the second or maybe third bottle of Irish whiskey I ever purchased, the first being Jameson Cold Brew that I couldn’t figure out how (or when) to drink. Coffee plus alcohol equals a conundrum I never really solved, despite eventually finding the bottle’s end.

    Truthfully, I still haven’t tried many Irish whiskies, which means I’m open to recommendations (drop me a comment if you have some!). But I like what I’ve sampled so far, including this one. It’s a blend of single pot still whiskey and single malt, mashed with both malted and unmalted barley, distilled three times and aged in an ex-bourbon barrel.

    On the nose I get candied citrus. It morphs into apple, toffee, and a hint of brown sugar on the tongue. It’s forthright, pleasant, and inviting – everything I wish my writing practice to be.

    But you know what they say: those who can’t do, drink.

    Sláinte, y’all!

    In My Glass

    Walsh Whiskey Writers’ Tears Copper Pot
    Irish Whiskey
    NAS; 40% ABV
    Ireland

    On My Desk

    1940s Remington Noiseless Model Seven

  • Bruichladdich Rocks // From the Archives

    Bruichladdich Rocks // From the Archives

    If I could teleport, I’d send myself to Islay this week for Fèis Ìle. Unfortunately, I’m bound by the laws of physics (and my bank account), which means that I’m following the festivities from afar. As a small comfort, I’ve poured a dram of an Islay distillery exclusive from the comfort of my home.

    This little bottle of Rocks from Bruichladdich is a blast from the past—literally. According to my tour guide at the distillery last fall, a wayward case was discovered in a forgotten corner of the distillery some 15+ years after bottling. The unopened remnants were placed in the gift shop for sale, where I picked up a bottle. It was the perfect “vintage” addition to my whisky collection, and what better time to crack it open than this week?

    For a whisky that’s only 46% ABV, it’s surprisingly spirit-forward. Citrus, vinegar, and vanilla crash on the palate. Despite being unpeated, an unmistakable Islay brine brings it all together. It’s no comparison to Bruichladdich’s current (and much loved) lineup, but it’s a small taste of their history and progression, a step along the way to the distillery we know today.

    Sláinte, y’all!

    In My Glass

    Bruichladdich Progressive Hebridean Distillery – Rocks
    Single Malt Scotch Whisky
    NAS; 46% ABV
    Scotland (Islay)

    On My Desk


    1961 Olivetti Lettera 22, Made in Scotland

  • Talisker // Star-Crossed Whiskies

    Talisker // Star-Crossed Whiskies

    As a self-described whisky enthusiast (and certified single malt expert, per the Edinburgh Whisky Academy and the Scottish Qualifications Authority), it’s hard to say this: I found a single malt Scotch whisky that I do not like.

    This is a new experience. There have always been certain bottles I prefer over others, and a few cheap blends I’d rather leave on the shelf. I don’t love most bourbons, and some American single malts are a bit too banana-y for me.

    But never once have I poured a whisk(e)y back into the bottle.

    Until I found Talisker.

    My apologies to any offended Talisker stans. By all accounts, I SHOULD love it; if nothing else, I was led to the distillery by fate or fairies while traveling through Scotland last year. Pressed for time, I decided not to stop by, but my quest for Caora Dubh Coffee dropped me on Talisker’s doorstep (or, more accurately, across the parking lot) anyway.

    Great coffee, by the way. Highly recommend. ☕️

    And the problem isn’t the smoke and the peat or the medicinal brine that attacks your palate from all angles. I like that. I named my cat after that.

    I just don’t like Talisker.

    Talisker 10 to be exact. Or Storm. Or Skye. (I will give them due props for Port Ruighe; the port cask helps).

    It wasn’t until after I returned home, armed with a bottled flight of the core range, that I discovered my dislike. They were poured with great anticipation into three separate glasses for nosing and tasting. But then I did the unthinkable, tipping the remains of each dram back into their tiny glass bottles and returning them to the whisky cabinet.

    It was a low moment, an act akin to whisky heresy.

    For months the bottles have waited, daring me to give them another try. Today is Whisky Wednesday, so why not?

    And…nope. 😂

    To me, they’re confused instead of complex, bold and messy. The 10 is okay until the finish, which comes back around with an overly peppery, salty punch. The Storm is like butter gone bad, creamy then angry. The Skye? Meh.

    What does this mean? Nothing. Not every whisky is for every body! If you love it, drink it!

    In My Glass(es)

    Talisker 10, Skye, and Storm
    Single Malt Scotch Whiskies
    10 Years Old/NAS; 45.8% ABV
    Scotland (Highlands & Islands)

    On My Desk

    1961 Olivetti Lettera 22
    Scotland (Glasgow)

  • Jack Daniels Bonded // Smooth as Tennessee Whisky

    Jack Daniels Bonded // Smooth as Tennessee Whisky

    Friday is Bottled in Bond day, the 126th anniversary of the Bottled in Bond Act signed into law on March 3, 1897. This legislation was monumental for the whiskey industry in the United States, so I’m sipping Whisky Advocate’s top whisky of 2022, Jack Daniels’ Bonded on Whisky Wednesday in its honor.

    The whiskey is robust and rich, crashing onto the palate with sweet caramel and vanilla. Oak follows the sweetness, its lingering on the tongue with a dry, woody finish.

    As I sip this, I should be thinking about what makes a bottle of whiskey “bonded”, but we’ll have to come back to that some other time. I’m instead stuck on this question: what the heck is a Tennessee whiskey, and how is it different than bourbon?

    The best answer I can find is, not much.

    Technically, this whiskey is—or could be—bourbon. The mash bill contains at least 51% corn; it’s bottled at less than 160 proof and more than 80; and it was aged in charred new oak barrels.

    But what sets this whiskey apart from bourbon is a rigorous filtration process called the Lincoln County Process, named for the county where Jack Daniel got his whiskey-making start. Distillers of the region claim that this added filtration makes for an exceptionally smooth whiskey, softening some of bourbon’s coarser, corn-influenced qualities.

    True? Maybe. Filtering isn’t exclusive to Tennessee Whiskey — though there seems to be a singular intensity to the Lincoln County Process.

    But as someone who is often put off by the harshness of traditional bourbon, I think they might be onto something.

    Whether you call this spirit Bourbon or Tennessee Whiskey, and whatever happens in filtering, it was enough to earn this spirit a #1 spot on Whisky Advocate’s list….and in my whisky cabinet too.

    Sláinte, y’all!

    In My Glass

    Jack Daniels Bonded Tennessee Whisky
    American Whiskey, Bottled in Bond
    No Age Statement; 50% ABV
    USA

    On My Desk

    Royal Futura 600
    Manual Typewriter
    c. 1960

  • Cardhu 16 Special Release 2022 // Raise the Red Flag

    Cardhu 16 Special Release 2022 // Raise the Red Flag

    Happy Whisky Wednesday!

    In honor of International Womens Day, I finally popped the cork on my bottle of Cardhu 16 Special Release 2022, which I picked up during a visit to the distillery in October.

    Women have always had a place in distilling, but whisky has a reputation as a boys’ club nonetheless. I should know—I’ve surprised a bartender or two in my time with an order of Scotch whisky, neat.

    Cardhu proudly stands out as a symbol of both powerful women and really good whisky. According to legend (and the lovely book Women of Moray), it was founded as an illicit still in the early 1800s by a man, John Cummings, with the help of his wife Helen. After John’s death, Helen took charge, and the management of the now-legal distillery eventually passed to her daughter-in-law, Elizabeth.

    It was these women who led Cardhu Distillery (then Cardow Farm) into such prominence that it caught the attention of Mr. John Walker, a name that every whisky enthusiast knows well. Walker used Cardhu’s spirits in his eponymous blends and even purchased the distillery in the late 1800s. It remains in the Johnnie Walker family (now under Diego) today, one of the brand’s “four corners.”

    The thick stone walls built by Elizabeth still stand proud on a hill in Speyside. The distillery’s logo—a woman raising a crimson flag—pays homage to Helen, who cleverly used a red flag to alert nearby distillers of the presence of excise men, come to collect.

    And the whisky continues to flow.

    In my glass today is a dram of Cardhu 16, a 2022 limited edition finished in pot still rum casks and bottled at cask strength.

    For a whisky distilled and aged in the Scottish Highlands, it’s surprisingly fruity and tropical. Sweet and tart, notes of banana, grapefruit, pineapple, and even something like lime burst onto the front of the palate, fading toward the back. Some sips taste sugary, almost manufactured, like a handful of Runts Candies all crunched together. But overall it’s a sweet, bright, and unexpected dram—perfect for a warm summer’s day (soon!) and/or dreams of escape.

    Sláinte, y’all!

    In My Glass

    Cardhu 16 Special Release 2022
    Single Malt Scotch Whisky
    16 Years Old; 58% ABV
    Scotland (Speyside)

    On My Desk

    Remington Noiseless Model Seven
    Manual Typewriter
    c. 1946

  • Corsair Distillery Tour

    Corsair Distillery Tour

    Rumor has it that the inspiration for Corsair Distillery’s distinctive label came from a trio of drunken, unbothered Scotsmen striding confidently down a Scottish road after an evening of troublemaking and revelry.

    That, and the film Reservoir Dogs.

    Either way, the spirits produced in this craft distillery are well represented by both its label and legend, bold and unbothered. Corsair’s roots span Kentucky and Tennessee, an area best known for bourbon (and a good bit of moonshine too). But they’re forging their own path, branching out from the whiskey family tree drawn by their regional forefathers.

    In addition to the single malt and rye whiskies produced on Corsair’s pre-prohibition pot still (affectionately named “Ethyl”), the current lineup includes an American-style gin, a spiced rum, a barreled gin, and an absinthe.

    Each bottle is carefully crafted, developed in small batches with experimentation and care, an answer to the ever-repurposed question “what if we…?” What if we smoked our barley malt with a blend of peat and cherrywood and beechwood? What if we spiced our rum, aged our gin in a barrel, and then put another spirit back in the barrel? What if we ignored all the propaganda around absinthe and made it anyway, tinting it bright red with hibiscus?

    As we move through the space, we learn that our tour guide, Carter, has been doing this for years. He knows—and loves—what he’s talking about as ushers us through the small production floor and back across the courtyard to the tasting room for sampling.

    Each sip of Corsair’s offerings is different, surprising. The flavors build and compete and then dance back together, never shy, always interesting. The space that the distillery inhabits (location one of two) is similarly complex, an early-1900s automobile factory turned modern retail space and museum. Like the whiskey, it’s easy to get lost in and, more importantly, even easier not to mind.

    Slainte, y’all!

    In My Glass

    Corsair Distillery – Dark Rye
    American Rye Malt Whiskey
    Aged 1 Year; 42.5% ABV
    USA (Tennessee)

    On My Desk

    1961 Olivetta Lettera 22, Made in Scotland

  • Glenmorangie Tale of the Forest // O Thou My Muse

    Glenmorangie Tale of the Forest // O Thou My Muse

    “O thou, my muse! guid auld Scotch drink!”

    While many writers throughout history are known for their love of whisky, the prolific Scottish poet Robert Burns might just top the list. As evidence to his devotion, consider the verses of “Scotch Drink,” a lively ode to his preferred tipple, penned in 1785.

    Burns didn’t live to see his 40th birthday, but he made the most of his limited years, fathering at least 12 children and producing hundreds of songs and poems. His outsized legacy endures in an estimated 900 living descendants; an expansive portfolio of 500+ written works; and a colorful reputation involving an abundance of both whisky and women; all of which are honored (along with the man himself) each year on his birthday, the 25th of January.

    Traditional Burns Night fare includes a hearty supper of haggis, neeps, and tatties, but we’re skipping straight to dessert with a wee dram of whisky — Glenmorangie’s poetic single malt Tale of the Forest in particular. Developed by innovative master distiller Dr. Bill Lumsden, the whisky draws on a bygone practice of burning natural botanicals like moss, heather, and pine needles to dry the malted barley. #plantlife, meet whisky.

    The result is an earthy, gently smoky whisky with notes of citrus and pine and an unexpected pepperiness. It’s full, complex, and layered, a poem of many verses and a felicitous toast to Scotland’s forests and its National Bard too.

    Sláinte, y’all!

    In My Glass

    Glenmorangie Tale of the Forest
    Single Malt Scotch Whisky
    No Age Statement; 46% ABV
    Scotland (Highlands)

    On My Desk

    1961 Olivetti Lettera 22, Made in Scotland