"The light music of whisky falling into a glass - an agreeable interlude"
Written: Aug 22 '06 (Updated Sep 17 '06)
|
Product Rating:
|
|
|
Pros: Light, malty, good summer malt and an excellent Scotch introduction
Cons: Relatively simple in profile, a touch volatile. The vile next morning.
The Bottom Line: "Come, let me know what it is that makes a Scotchman happy!"
|
|
|
| headlessparrot's Full Review: The Balvenei Doublewood Single Malt 12 Year |
Perhaps I should be angry with my roommate of two years. Realistically, I should be. But I just can't quite bring myself to be – for when I was introduced to single malt Scotch whisky, a metaphorical new world opened. A delicious new world. Of course, that's all just hyperbole, and ultimately irrelevant. I thought I'd share, however. My first foray into Scotch was a sip of Johnnie Walker Red, and I won't lie, I was really only tempted to try it because it piqued my sense of vanity. One looks so – well, cool, sipping the amber liquor from a tumbler, drawing in small amounts, pensive look on face. Realistically, it needn't have been Scotch. It could have been bourbon, rum, or even vodka, but that's largely irrelevant. We don't drink like our forefathers – rough and rugged men not afraid of a little murky brown liquid, or the bite of straight gin, and I knew I'd feel a little better about myself if maybe I could recapture some of that glory.
In any event, that first taste of Johnnie Walker Red – even when served over crushed ice – destroyed my hopes. It was absolutely awful, smelling of pure alcohol and cheap grain, and tasting of gasoline. Needless to say, I showed no more interest in this fine spirit until nearly a year later, when I sampled my roommate's other Scotch whisky investment, a bottle of The Glenlivet 12 year old. It's hardly a stellar single malt, but it is a single malt, and even that made a world of difference (in short, while blends have their place, I'm forced to dismiss those who minimize the often world of difference between a single malt and a blend). It was a little rough around the edges admittedly, and I coughed and grimaced a few times, and I took damn near an hour to drink the dram, but I was sold. Some of the gentle vanilla character, the fruits and floral notes, the gentle warming sensation (so nice in blustery student housing in -20 degree weather) – I wanted more. It wasn't long before I'd picked up my own bottle, and the rest, as they say, is history.
It's worth pointing out that I'm still a whisky amateur – I've been drinking bourbon and rye for years, but to say that the majority of these drinks lack the depth of a good Scotch is an understatement (not to, of course, poo poo either of these beverages, for I'm still a fan of both). So it's with some trepidation that I enter this field, not entirely sure of where I'm going (but bored enough to wander there).
Whatever, the case, I suppose it's worth giving a brief explanation of exactly what Scotch whisky is, for those not in the now. Scotch whisky (or simply Scotch) refers to whisky produced in Scotland. All Scotch, therefore, is whisky (or whiskey, for our Irish and American friends), but not all whisky is Scotch. It sounds simple, and it is, but there are a few additional restrictions. Not only must it be distilled in Scotland, but it must also be aged there (in oak casks) for a minimum of three years (though the majority of distilleries would agree that a bare minimum of eight-to-twelve years is optimal). It must be distilled to a strength of no more than 94.8% alcohol by volume, so that it may retain the flavours of the raw material used in its production. And, finally, it may not contain any additives beyond water and caramel colouring.
There are generally three types of Scotch whisky – though by and large, most will encounter no more than two: single malt whisky, blended scotch whisky and vatted or blended malt whisky (there are, additionally, two more official classifications, but are reserved for grain, rather than malt whisky, a largely ignored spirit). Single malt whisky – to which The Balvenie belongs – is a whisky produced entirely by one distillery from 100% malted barley. A blended scotch whisky, on the other hand, is a mixture of single malt whiskies and grain whiskies, usually from a number of distillers. Blends, especially now, are bigger sellers than single malts, but are often denigrated and derided as lacking the character and depth of a single malt – though admittedly blends have cornered the market on consistency, given their access to thousands and thousands of barrels of whisky from which to create a consistent flavour profile (versus a single distiller, who might see sizable variation from year to year and bottling to bottling).
There, are additionally, four generally accepted regional areas in Scotland where Scotch whisky is produced (though one of those areas is traditionally split into two); most will agree that geographical location exerts an influence on the whisky produced. The Balvenie, for example, is a Speyside whisky, located in the Spey river valley in north-east Scotland and home to the largest number of distilleries.
There are innumerable resources for additional background on this wonderful drink – for a start, I would look at the Wikipedia entry for Scotch whisky, or peruse the Epinions database of whiskies. I'm looking specifically now at the The Balvenie 12 year old DoubleWood; I received it as a gift from my girlfriend, and I've been enjoying it for several months. What the Balvenie lacks in history, of course, it makes up for in quality. Traced back to 1889, with its first distillation occurring a year later, the Balvenie claims to be the only remaining Scotch whisky distiller to grow its own barley, malt “in its ow n traditional floor maltings... and employ coopers to tend the casks and a coppersmith to maintain the stills.” The DoubleWood is one of five bottlings that the distiller offers, the others being respectively 10, 15, 21, and 30 years old. Balvenie, additionally, makes use of multiple casks of finishing, wherein a spirit aged for a time in oak is transferred to another barrel for additional aging. Glenmorangie, for example, offers a number of scotches that have been aged an additional two years in different barrels to impart different characteristics.
The Balvenie 12 year old DoubleWood is similarly matured in two casks; it begins in American oak whisky casks before being transferred to a Spanish oak sherry cask to impart (as the company claims) additional “complexity, depth, and fullness of flavour” (imagine all of this written in fancy script, of course). This is a popular trend in Scotch, and one that I must admit that I am somewhat partial to. More to the point, The Balvenie DoubleWood offers a good presentation – stout, clear bottle, corked, and housed in a tube that also contains a foldout information sheet on Balvenie. I'm compelled to see this as smart on the distiller's part, as this is certainly one of the lesser known single malts. “But how does it taste?” I hear you screaming, so I digress.
A Scotch of any quality should be served at room temperature, without ice or mixer, and preferably in a snifter. I must admit, however, that I am partial to the Romantic visual of sipping whisky from a traditional tumbler or rocks glass, and so don't always follow this final rule. Scotch – especially a single malt – should never be cut with anything, aside from a few droplets of water to ever-so-slightly dilute the alcohol level and to bundle up some of the volatile flavours. This, admittedly, sounds pretentious, but it works. The Balvenie DoubleWood is no exception – it pours into my tumbler a hue of burnt amber, with some honey highlights throughout. Rolling the drink around in the glass offers considerable legs. Not nearly as brown as the majority of scotches that I've encountered, but I hardly have the experience to offer my expert opinion. My best guess is that the sherry cask has imparted this lightness in colour. Regardless, as any scotch, my mouth is watering.
Onto the nose; without water, The Balvenie 12 year old DoubleWood offers up a fair amount of volatile astringency. A surprising alcohol kick in the first sniffs is eventually complimented by a touch more richness in flavour. Just a hint of peat and smoke (so often the defining characteristic of Scotches) is augmented by a surprising malt character – this has the nose of a good malty summer Scotch. Some sweetness, marked mostly by vanilla, with perhaps a touch of heather honey and sherry. Oak notes round out the nose. A few drops of water and a couple swirls add a touch of additional depth. The malt is more emphasized, and the burn is less harsh; some fruit character asserts itself, though mildly enough so as to be virtually indistinct. A little rough around the edges, but the rich malt notes sell this one for me.
Taste is initially faintly spicy. The alcohol asserts itself quickly, but only momentarily, and is replaced by a sweetness. Faint smoke and peat is subtle enough to complement the single malt's other flavours; honey, heather, a sort of distant fruitiness. A very pleasant vanilla tone. Surprisingly, I don't detect any sherry notes, but this is not a character flaw in the whisky by any stretch. Quite light and malty, this is, again, more of a summer malt, I think. A touch of orange, specifically orange rinds. Just a hint of harshness on the finish, as it burns for just a second, before sliding smoothly down your throat. Leaves a dry, warming sensation, with just a hint of alcohol on the tongue and a slightly malty taste in the mouth. Mouthfeel is good, just a hint oiliness as this treat slides and swishes through your mouth.
The Balvenie DoubleWood is not a perfect single malt by any stretch, but it's an enjoyable, drinkable one with an excellent middle-of-the-road taste profile. It's a fairly malty little drink with a good – though not startlingly impressive - complexity of flavour. I don't – and would never - drink it every day (I generally reserve my single malts for special occasions or cold nights), but it's an enjoyable treat on those days when I do wish to partake in a quality malt, but don't feel like something heavy or especially difficult. It is also a great introduction into the world of single malt Scotch whisky – like The Glenlivet, with less of the bite that initially turned me away.
Scotch whisky can quickly become an expensive habit. It is, however, well worth the money; if you're an old whisky pro, it's likely that you've sampled The Balvenie 12 year old DoubleWood before – if not, it's certainly worth a try. If you're a Scotch beginner, there's little better than this malt. It is a simple, mellow and unassuming single malt, rich in flavour, but not too overwhelming for a young man on his training wheels. If you want to be part of the great history of whisky, or simply have the same yearning to look cool, The Balvenie DoubleWood is a great start. Be forewarned, however, for it's a slippery slope before you fall deeply into an expensive habit. It is, though, a habit and a world that I think everyone should want to glimpse, if only for a moment. For, as David Daiches put it, "The proper drinking of Scotch whisky is more than indulgence: it is a toast to civilization, a tribute to the continuity of culture, a manifesto of man’s determination to use the resources of nature to refresh mind and body and enjoy to the full the senses with which he has been endowed."
Related Reviews:
Glenfiddich 15 Year Old Solera Reserve Single Malt Scotch Whisky
Glenmorangie 12 Year Old Port Wood Finish
Recommended:
Yes
|
|
|
|
Epinions.com ID:
headlessparrot
|
 - Top 1000 |
|
Member: Bryan Jansen
Location: Ontario, Canada
Reviews written: 171
Trusted by: 175 members
About Me:
Are you gonna bark all day, little doggy, or are you gonna bite?
|
|
|
- Add to My Yahoo!: 
- Add to Google Homepage: 
© 1999-2009 Shopping.com, Inc.