Falling Sky

Nosh of the Nation

Being the Farmers Market junkie that I've become in my old age, I don't find myself in supermarkets all that often these days, especially with Waitrose's online shopping supplying the vast quantities of Moo needed to sustain my lumbering bulk. Still, I'd be a berk not to realise how important supermarkets are to many when it comes to getting in the groceries, so it's been good to hear about recent campaigns by various stores to be more right-on (or at least be seen to do so). From fair trade to free range to locally sourced goods to eco products, it's about bloody time and means that those without the means to buy direct from suppliers don't have to compromise quite so much at the shops, unless all they give a damn about is price and nothing but, in which case we're all fucked. Here in Scotland, much like other stores, Tesco's have made a big deal about sourcing products from Scottish providers, and in 2006 they held their first annual Scottish food fair/showcase/exhibition in Edinburgh, called Enjoy the Taste of Scotland (not to be confuddled with the Taste Festivals). This year, it headed west and is currently plonked in the middle of George Square in Glasgow all this weekend. Attendance is completely free, with a nice big range of suppliers (some of whom we've already met at markets) giving samples and stories about their various products, plus a load of cooking demonstrations. So it's free, but is it worth your time? Being at the cutting edge of new media (ie we've got blogs), the missus-to-be and I managed to shuffled our scruffy selves in yesterday for the press day. You can read the good lady's review here - as you'll see below what hers lacks in alcohol mine shall truly make up for...

What's The Gaelic For 'Soylent Green'?

Just about to take my first sup of Laphraoig Single Malt 10 Yr Old (christmassy gift from Mum) and thought I'd have a gander at their website while doing so, if only to see if I was pronouncing it correctly as "lah-fraaaaargh". Well, turns out it's "la-froyg" which isn't half as fun. However, given my anti-cannibalism stance, I was exceedingly disturbed to read this on the front page...

"There are 3 main ingredients for making Laphroaig - Barley, Water, and Yeast, but the secret ingredient is the People."

Gah! No wonder the islands are under-populated. Still, I've already poured the dram, so I may as well try some, humanoid-content or not..

First - the smell. Woof! It's a formidable scent... stings the nostrils... is that Love Panther? It does wonders for the sinuses anyway, a bit like Vaporub.

Next - first taste. Whuh! Oh, now that's different. Initial KA-BLAM in the mouth, quickly followed by a distinctly peaty smell/taste towards the back of the mouth, increasingly tasty and warming. Let's try that again.

Whuh! Did it again, seems to connect with the nose more than whiskies normally do, if that makes the slightest bit of sense, feels as though it's tasted by some point between nose and upper mouth. Most peculiar, but after the initial shock of the initial BOSH it's very nice. It's a hearty bugger, no doubt about it, surprisingly evocative and tasty for a 10 year old. The site says...

In making Laphroaig, malted barley is dried over a peat fire. The smoke from this peat, found only on Islay, gives Laphroaig its particularly rich flavour.

...which would account for that tangible peatiness that's somewhere between taste and scent. It's a whisky that certainly demands your attention and I can't imagine ever having a drink of this without momentarily lurching back just a little, eyes momentarily bulging (well, more than usual), but the following taste is pleasing indeed. It's the kind of dram that goes well with wistful moments, soothing music playing in the background (Colleen's The Golden Morning Breaks is on right now and is ludicrously perfect for this), daydreaming in that wistful way that whisky encourages - I like to imagine the SMWS Members Rooms like some kind of meditation chamber, everyone with distant eyes and dreamy sighs. Anyway, first impressions of this are good indeed - though I wouldn't rate this over Talisker or Bowmore thus far, the Laphroaig 15 Yr Old sounds like it could be much more my cup of tea, so to speak. The website describes drinking it as being one of the ultimate highs in life, so at that rate I assume drinking the 40 year old is akin to beating God at arm-wrestling. My desire to do a comprehensive sketchbook tour of the distilleries of Scotland just got cranked up a couple more notches. You'll have to excuse me now - there's just enough left in the glass for some quality daydreaming of waves crashing against shores, little white houses against a windswept shore, ahhhh...

Technorati Tags: laphroaig, whisky

Sunday Night Down The Local

1. Mini-Keg!, 2. Pouring the Pint, 3. Lovely Head, 4. Red Settler

A new treat turned up at the Farmers Market in Edinburgh yesterday - a stall from Stewart Brewing, selling mini-kegs of their four beers.  Never seen a mini-keg before, so I handed over a wodge of hard-earned cash and lugged back a mini-keg of Copper Cascade.  Pretty heavy too, containing about 8 pints worth of ale.  The little tease can't even be used for the first 24 hours, as the yeast particles inside apparently need to settle, so there was no touching until this afternoon.  It was worth the wait though, with the first pint coming out nicely, a good colour and head with a pleasing taste, as good as I'd expect in the pub.  I'm not planning on making a habit of this - a mini-keg must be drunk within 5 days, I couldn't afford to buy one each weekend and I'm still cheerfully partaking in the many beers of Black Isle Brewery from the market each week - but any time in the future when we've got some pals over, we'll roll out the barrel.

Just 17

Bit by bit, year by year, I get more and more into the wonderful world of malt whisky.  Along with the unfiltered Highland Park from last month, I've recently been enjoying Bowmore whisky for the first time thanks to a trio of miniatures received at Chrimbo.  The 17-year-old was bloody gorgeous, incredibly warming, very tasty with this lovely air of the countryside, like a smell you taste at the back of your mouth.  I've just had some of the 12-year-old - it's fine, perfectly pleasant but not particularly remarkable compared to its older relative.  The third diddy bottle has no age and is merely known as Darkest, sherry casked and tasty with a warm caramel feel, listed by the Independent today as one of the 10 best malts on the market right now.  Most likely the next whisky I buy will be a bottle of the 17, though if that's so good, wonder what the 25 is like?  *takes a quick look at the price*  CHRIST!  Er... forget that.  Seventeen'll do nicely, thank you.

I also recently bought Iain Banks' Raw Spirit, ostensibly a pilgrimage of sorts to the malt distilleries of Scotland but very quickly turning into an almost stream-of-consciousness blether about whatever's on Banks' mind at the time, be it the invasion of Iraq, various cars, or his mates.  It's been a frustrating read thus far - the whisky stuff is fascinating, and he describes the landscapes and the drams with equal flair, but the me-and-my-mates passages go on for too long and just aren't all that interesting to read.  Hell, it's not far off blog-standard, except reading blogs doesn't cost £8.99.  I'm about halfway through and the whisky/ranting pieces are just about making it worthwhile.  The descriptions of the various whiskies are enough to get the taste buds buzzing with anticipation - if Our Band Could Be Your Life should've come with a compilation CD of all the relevant artists, Raw Spirit deserves to be supplied with a box full of miniature malts.  The lack of a map is careless and makes it a little harder geographically placing the location of some distilleries, especially as he then goes on to describe the beautiful surroundings with such skill and genuine passion that you want to catch the first train/ferry/flight/land rover out there yourself.  All the same, I'm looking forward to reading what he thinks of the Talisker distillery (never been, despite being Skye-based) and the Highland Park one (ooh, been there!) and plenty inbetween.  Besides, now and then Mr Banks can knock out a line that sums things up nicely - he describes Bowmore whisky as "the most glorious, life-affirming stuff" which out-hyperboles me nicely, while of whisky as a whole he writes

No matter how fucked-up the world may get, a good dram will make it at least slightly more bearable.

Let's drink to that.  Now, if I could just find a way to get funding for a similar pilgrimage rendering the sights in pencils and paint rather than words...