|The old and the new.|
And it was Dewar's White Label we got started off with. One of the top selling blends, particularly in America, we began by trying the drink as it was the mid-1970s. This was, said Greg, a real "old school whisky" including distillate dating from the 1960s.
A very smooth whisky it was. Smooth has always been a key characteristic of Dewar's so that wasn't a surprise, but perhaps more telling was the wispy, smoky sort of taste, distinctive of the Speyside whiskies of that era. The chemists in the room were getting a bit of Windolene, too. This left some of the rest of us a bit baffled, but perhaps that's just because we don't clean our windows often enough.
|Dewar's White Label as it was.|
The second version of the White Label was the contemporary one. Dewar's has been owned for two decades by Bacardi, and in turn runs five Scottish distilleries including Aberfeldy and Aultmore, much of which ends up in blends such as White Label.
This particular whisky is strong on the nose but a bit low key after that. There's certainly a bit of a family resemblance to its ancestor, and the core 'DNA' of flavours was undoubtedly similar. But we thought the older blend was just a bit more interesting all round. A nice blend, but perhaps not one any of us are going to be rushing out to actually buy. It's only £20 though.
|Dewar's White Label today.|
The next pairing pitted two versions of Johnnie Walker Black Label against each other. Possibly the most familiar whisky in the world, Greg drew our attention to the extraordinary similarity in the labels between the old and new bottles, the hallmark of what he described as a "brutally consistent" brand.
The older bottling that Greg had for us dated from 1981. This era was a great time for blends, as a fall in consumer demand led to a general surplus of whisky and the so-called 'whisky lake' which in turn caused, sadly, the closure of several distilleries (including most famously Port Ellen, but there were plenty of others). So, lots of better quality malts ended up in blends when they might not otherwise have done.
|The 1981 Johnnie Walker Black.|
The same could be said for the modern day equivalent. An easy drinker to be sure, but it didn't leave a particularly lasting impression. Not that this is necessarily a bad thing. As someone suggested, Johnnie Walker Black might be best described as a "sessionable whisky". Another word you might use would be "forgettable" though.
|The modern Johnnie Walker Black.|
After a half-time break we were back for the final pairing, and a visit to Glenfiddich. It's run by Grant's, by far the largest player in Scotland's whisky market that remains family-owned. A big expansion is on the way at the Glenfiddich distillery too, another sign of the strength of the industry at the moment.
|Glenfiddich Pure Malt from 1979|
An example of how the value of single malts has exploded is that this bottle was sold for the equivalent of £30 back then, whereas we paid £242 for this particular bottle. It was well worth it though. Very mild, with a distinctive toffee aftertaste, this was widely described as "beautiful". It had a much longer finish than the blends we'd tried earlier in the evening, too.
|Glenfiddich 12yo from the present day.|
By this stage it's clear the night had progressed well because checking my notes I see all I actually wrote for this was "we liked it but number five was the outstanding dram of the evening" so if you're looking for a more detailed summary of the strengths of this titan of the whisky industry, you might have to look elsewhere. It's known for being a soft, elegant sort of dram though, so not too far removed from the qualities of its 1979 predecessor.
Called Old Oak, the label reveals it's a blend made in that whisky hotbed of Limassol in Cyprus. It was produced by Loel, which a basic Google search reveals is better known as a winery and maker of fruit juice. It seems doubtful whether they still make whisky and, frankly, after a taste of this, it's not difficult to see why.
The nose was part vanilla, part vomit, while the palate had an overwhelming note of carpet. Or possibly paper. If you think I'm exaggerating, well, I'm not. This may be one of the worst whiskies in history, for which Greg apologised profusely: "I honestly thought it was going to be alright!"
The rest of the night, of course, was, so thanks to Greg for expertly taking us through such a well-chosen selection of whiskies. Thanks also to all club members old and new for another great turnout, and to the Briton's Protection for putting us up once again. As predicted the dram of the night was number five! It was very much nul points for Cyprus.