by Lew Bryson
What they’ve done is use a more Irish philosophy, creating variants within their own walls. By creating a variety of blending stock with different stills, fermentations, malts, and barrels (some unique to Japan), Japanese whisky makers have learned to work their whisky to exactly where they want it.
As they reached that point, and took that whisky out to the world, whisky drinkers have recognized that this is a whisky area with a distinct personality. Indeed, in some recent competitions Japanese whiskies have been judged as best in the world. The student has joined the master.
The Nikka Yoichi distillery lies on the island of Hokkaido. Its distinctive kiln towers blend traditional European-style stonework with a decidedly Japanese aesthetic.
American Craft Distillers: A Wild Variety
America’s craft distillers don’t really constitute a whiskey region, but they do represent a profusion of influences and outputs that appears to be headed for real significance in a relatively short period of time. They have exploded in number over the past few years. The number of distillers increases every day, and whiskey is a popular product: as I write this there are nearly three hundred distillers making whiskey in the United States. That’s up from fewer than five only 20 years ago.
If those kinds of numbers sound familiar, it’s because they track the same kind of growth curve we saw with craft breweries. When the first new American craft brewer, New Albion Brewing, opened in 1976, there were only about 35 breweries in the country. Now, less than 40 years later, there are over 2,500, and the growth is still soaring. It’s hard to say how many will still be around in 20 years — brewers or distillers — but it’s safe to assume that it will be closer to today’s numbers than those of 20 years ago.
What’s behind that? There’s an element of interest in local businesses, a support of small companies over large ones, and some contrarian resistance to being “marketed to” by slick branding and ads, and that’s all part of it. But the main appeals of craft brewers, and the new craft distillers, are variety and exclusivity.
Exclusivity is a heady thing to some consumers. If you’ve found a great small-batch whiskey, you know something most people don’t, and you’re enjoying something most people aren’t even aware of. That’s a special excitement that marketers call “discovery,” and craft distillers, with their tiny output and limited distribution area, can deliver it in spades.
Even better, like the craft breweries, you can go to the distilleries and actually see whiskey being made and meet the people who make it. That’s exclusivity: “I met the distiller.” The big distillers may have visitors’ centers and tours, but they can’t offer anywhere near as intimate an experience.
But it’s variety that makes the craft distillers interesting, and that’s the basis of why they are what they are. It is literally impossible to assign a common character to craft distillers’ whiskeys, even more so than with Irish whiskey. They make whiskey with myriad different types of stills, a full cornucopia of grains — malt, corn, blue corn, oats, wheat, rye, triticale, quinoa, buckwheat, spelt, millet, and more — barrels of varying size and char and toast, wildly different flavors, aged and unaged bottlings, a range of blends, and smoke from different sources. Some even make whiskey from different types of craft-brewed beer.
Where did that variety come from? From the pioneers: small winemakers and craft brewers. Small winemakers have tried new techniques, new science, and new blends of grapes; they’ve grasped new territories and made small production work profitably. Craft brewers have not only opened whole new areas of brewing; they’ve gone deep into the history books to re-create old styles. They’re using new strains of hops and newly treated types of malt, varieties of different grains, barrel-aging their beers. . . .
Sounds familiar, right? Craft distillers are reaping the advantages of coming late to the small-scale booze-production party. They can see the kind of great reception innovation gets, and wholesalers and retailers already are convinced that small brands and producers can be worth higher prices and will sell. There are even fabricators ready to make small-scale equipment, thanks to the changes small winemakers and brewers have made in the business of drinks.
Balcones Distillery in Waco, Texas
Craft distilling continues to evolve, of course, and part of that is economics. When small distillers start out, they need something to sell, which is how we got a slew of “white whiskeys,” unaged (or “lightly aged”) spirit that folks took to out of enthusiasm and curiosity. Some are smooth and interesting, some are harsh and need mixing to be enjoyed, but all are interesting practice for tasting whiskey; you don’t get many chances to try the unaged spirit. That’s a great opportunity to see exactly what barrel aging does for whiskey.
Another trick craft distillers use to speed up cash flow is using smaller barrels — which increases the ratio of surface area that’s in contact with the spirit — or by hotter warehousing, which drives the spirit deeper into the wood. Both methods increase the rate of loss to evaporation, but they do accelerate aging, kind of. These methods will “color up” a whiskey quickly, but it’s not the same as maturation in a standard-size barrel. That’s okay for some distillers; they’re looking for that difference. Still, many craft distillers move to standard barrels as they get some experience (and money) in hand. It continues to change.
We haven’t seen what craft distilling’s whiskeys will look like yet. Corsair Distillery founder Darek Bell likes to call the current period of this industry Craft Distilling 1.0 and sees new things coming in version 2.0. Almost certainly, though, Craft Distilling 2.0 will continue to surprise us with even more variety, and even more stretching of the definitions and parameters of “whiskey.”
Globalism: Whiskey Around the World
There are more distilleries than these, to be sure. Small whiskey distillers are popping up across Europe, in Sweden, France, Switzerland, England, and Germany; in Asia, where the tropical climate is driving interesting experiments in short-term aging at such distilleries as Amrut (India) and Kavalan (Taiwan); and in Australia and New Zealand, where distilling is coming back strongly from some setbacks after early trials.
Climate will play a large part in creating the character of these whiskeys, as will supply of grain. New woods hold promise, as do new ways of managing hot-climate and cold-climate aging. There is little consensus among the distillers as yet, no definable regional character.
And perhaps there will not be one. Maybe America’s craft distillers are the vision of the future; variety, change, multiplicity. While established distillers will continue to craft their traditional, excellent whiskeys, true to their regional, historical roots — much like traditional brewers in Germany, Belgium, the UK, and eastern Europe do today — regional boundaries will mean nothing more to new distillers than a change in language and currency when they buy supplies and sell their whiskey.
The grape/grain divide is still there, in production and consumption, but it seems to blur more every year as populations shift, and climate changes, and cultures become less distinct. American craft distillers make malt whiskey, Australian distillers age whiskey in Australian port casks, Belgian distillers make whiskey from their country’s distinctive beers.
There is only so much you can learn about whiskey history without realizing that it’s taking place right around you, slowly or quickly, all the time. Things change; they have since the Irish monks first distilled beer, and to think of whiskey only as a traditional, authentic, historic drink is to ignore reality. Whiskey is different from what it was when I began to drink it, 30 years ago, and I guarantee you that it will be different in 30 more years. That’s whiskey; that’s life.
Scotch: How the World Says “Whisky”
Just think about it: Scotland, tiny Scotland, shipped the equivalent of 1.19 billion bottles of whisky to the world in 2012. America exported a little less than a third as much whiskey. If you take out what they ship right across the border to Americans (which adds up to about one-fifth of total
Scotch exports), Canadian exports are a drop in the bucket. Irish whiskey is growing tremendously fast, but even total sales are less than one-tenth of Scotch whisky exports. It’s no wonder that when the world says “whisky,” they mean Scotch.
What they really mean is blended Scotch, not the single malts you hear so much about. For sheer volume it’s brands like Johnnie Walker, Bell’s, Ballantine’s, Famous Grouse, William Grant, Dewar’s, and Chivas Regal that rule the shelves in stores, bars, and homes. That’s the way it’s been for well over 100 years. The rise of single malt whiskies is a recent phenomenon; 30 years ago you’d have been hard pressed to find more than about five brands of single malts in even the best stores and bars. If you went to a specialty store, you may have found a few more, lovingly procured and packaged by independent bottlers.
What’s since happened in those 30 years is revolutionary. Single malts have become a major market, equaling now almost 20 percent of Scotch whisky sales in the United States — an unthinkably large number 30 years ago. Faced with a glut of whisky in the early 1980s — the “Whisky Loch,” driven by increased production to a growth curve that suddenly flattened as vodka exploded in popularity — more and more whisky makers bottled malts from their own distilleries, creating single distillery blendings of malts of varied age (the age on the label is always that of the youngest whisky in the mix), with no grain whisky. When they did, they discovered an aficionado market of previously unknown proportions.
How Do You Say That?
When I said that Scotch is how the world says whisky, I didn’t say they said it right. While the names of the blends are all pretty easy to say (for obvious reasons), you’ll hear the names of single malts pronounced in all kinds of ways by retailers, bartenders, and drinkers. There’s no shame in that: there are some that the Scots can’t even agree on (and if as an American you think that’s funny or quaint, just ask folks from across America how they pronounce “Louisville”).
I don’t have the room or the authority to tell you how to pronounce all of them. There are two good sources on the Web, though. Esquire hired Shakespearean actor Brian Cox to pronounce the names of over 30 of the most popular (and some of the most difficult) online at its Eat Like a Man blog (get there by going to Esquire.com and searching for “Brian Cox Scotch”); they’re mostly like I’ve heard them pronounced by Scots in the industry. There’s a more complete list, intoned by Pip Hills, founder of the august Scotch Malt Whisky Society, that sounds more authentic to me (find it by searching for “Pip Hills whisky pronunciation guide”).
I’ll give you a couple of the most often mispronounced ones. First, Islay is “EYE-luh,” not “IS-lay.” The odd-looking anCnoc is “uhn-NUCK.” Bruichladdich is close to “bruek-LAD-ee,” though there’s a real lilt and roll to the first “ich.” And my favorite is Glen Garioch: it’s pronounced “glen GEE-ree,” with two hard “G”s. I’ve no idea why.
The success of single malt bottlings changed the industry. It’s made drinking Scotch whisky a much more interesting, even intriguing pastime, one with heightened demands and rewards, along the lines of getting very involved with drinking fine wine. Where there may be 10 blended Scotches generally available (though that’s growing as well), there are single malts for sale from around a hundred distillers, each with its own story, unique characteristics, and fans (and detractors). Most good American bars will have at least three single malt choices these days.
When I say that the success of single malt bottlings changed the industry, though, I don’t mean just the Scotch whisky industry; the effects were much more far reaching. The success of the single malts led to a similar specialization in bourbon, where small-batch and single-barrel bottlings and a trend to older whiskeys helped turn around a long decline. Irish whiskey made similar changes, adding upgrade steps to portfolios with age statements and the triumphant return of single pot still whiskey. Canadian whisky has been making moves toward premiumization with special releases of much older whiskies and barrel finishes.
But when you look further, you see that the influence is even broader. Trends that might be traced back to the success of single malt Scotch whisky include the increase in sales of aged rum, new emphasis on unique blends of botanicals for gin (and a tiny increase in long-forgotten genever), estate-bottled tequilas, even new bottlings and interest in apple brandy. I’d argue that although it’s not a frequent cocktail ingredient, the connoisseur’s acceptance of single malt Scotch led to a perceived opening for high-end spirits in classic cocktails, which has created a huge new niche in high-end bars.
It’s been nothing short of revolutionary, truly. What makes it even more amazing is that these revolutionary whiskies are the product of solidly traditional concerns that have rejected change as anathema, where “because that’s the way it’s done” is not only carved in stone, it was carved in stone hundreds of years ago, and you’d better not think about touching those stones, lad!
The Scotch Whisky Association
As a trade group the Scotch Whisky Association (SWA) has been tremendously successful. They essentially wrote the rules on what is and is not Scotch whisky; the latest iteration, promulgated by the UK government, is called the Scotch Whisky Regulations 2009. (The name “Scotch whisky” is itself a protected geographical indication under European Union regulations.) They literally lay down the law, and they defend it overseas. The SWA’s legal affairs department has prosecuted Scotch whisky knockoffs around the world, often with great success.
It took a while to grow to such effectiveness. The SWA recently celebrated their centenary (with an exhibit hosted by the Scottish Parliament and a nice memento bottling I was lucky enough to get some of; a blend, naturally, and tasty stuff). They started as a trade association against price cutting, and until the 1970s they regulated Scotch whisky prices. They’re still concerned about prices, but these days it’s the government’s continuing flirtation with minimum pricing and the ever-present battle with excise tax increases that catches their attention in that area.
The SWA is an effective group that vigorously defends the traditional image and definition of Scotch whisky. That can be a double-edged sword as other countries’ whisky industries continue to experiment with variation and innovation.
Defining Scotch
Some distillers and independent bottlers were plucking around the edges of Scotch manufacturing traditions as the market grew in the past 15 years or so, and the industry reacted by clarifying the rules of what is and is not Scotch whisky, and then split that definition into five subcategories. Let’s have a look.
The Glenmorangie distillery in Tain, in the Highlands region of Scotland, was founded in 1843.
The slightly younger Glenfiddich distillery in Dufftown, in the Speyside region, was founded in 1887.
According to the Scotch Whisky Regulations 2009, anything labeled “Scotch whisky” must:
Be mashed, fermented, distilled, and matured entirely in Scotland
Be made from water and malted barley, “to which only whole grains of other cereals may be added”
Be converted using only the enzymes in the grain
Be fermented by the addition of only yeast
Be distilled to no more than 94.8 percent alcohol by volume
Be matured in oak casks (no larger than 700 liters) in an excise warehouse “or a permitted place” for no less than 3 years
Retain the color, aroma, and taste derived from the raw materials, process, and maturation
Have nothing added to it other than water and/or “plain caramel coloring”
Have a minimum ABV of 40 percent
There are five types of Scotch whisky by regulation. Two are the “singles”:
Single malt Scotch whisky is distilled in one or more batches at a single distillery, but from only malted barley, and in pot stills. (These are the familiar single malts.)
Single grain Scotch whisky is a Scotch whisky that has been distilled in one or batches at a single distillery, from, at least in part,
cereal grains like wheat or corn.
There are three types of blended Scotch whisky:
Blended malt Scotch whisky is a blend of two or more single malt Scotch whiskies that have been distilled at different distilleries. These were formerly called “vatted Scotch whiskies,” which is arguably either less or more confusing to the consumer, depending on whom you ask. There weren’t a lot of them, but there are some more emerging lately, such as William Grant’s Monkey Shoulder, and several from Compass Box, including Flaming Heart and Peat Monster.
Blended Scotch whisky is a blend of one or more single malt Scotch whiskies with one or more single grain Scotch whiskies. This is the familiar, large category of blends.
Blended grain Scotch whisky is a blend of two or more single grain Scotch whiskies that have been distilled at different distilleries. These are not common; Compass Box Hedonism comes to mind.
Five Types of Scotch
The regulations seem quite restrictive, especially for single malts: must take place entirely in Scotland, only water and malt, no added enzymes, must be distilled in pot stills, only oak casks, no additional flavors, just a bit of caramel coloring. But really, much like the standards of identity for bourbon are today (see chapter 9), these regulations are not so much restrictive as a recognition of the status quo.