Federal Wine & Spirits

As I sit down to write, I think it will be quite impossible to describe Federal Wine & Spirits adequately. John had told me in the past about this unique store, but the picture in my mind’s eye was not even remotely close to the actual experience. Still, because it remains my responsibility, as this blog’s principal author, to describe unique and memorable whisky experiences, I’ll do my best.

Federal is found in the heart of downtown Boston, on the first floor of an otherwise nondescript office building, less than a block from the Old State House, and practically right along the Freedom Trail. In fact, with all the historical sights nearby, unless one looked closely in the window, and happened to see the forty year old Laphroaig sitting on display, one would hardly be inclined to enter Federal for any purpose, let alone for the purchase of malts which are perhaps otherwise inaccessible on American soil.

First the layout: Federal can’t be more than 150 square feet, including the area behind the counter, and the large cooler along one of the walls. There is a single rectangular wine rack in the middle of the store, displaying perhaps fifty wines, mostly moderately priced, and leaving room for no more than a single person in any of the tiny spaces between the rack and the shelves, spaces that hardly deserve to be called aisles. Half the shelves are stocked with wines, loosely organized; and the remainder with spirits, everything from the most ordinary everyday flavored vodka, to the most amazing inventory of malt whisky one can imagine. Behind the counter, the shelves reach up to the ceiling, with ever more esoteric and expensive whiskies as the shelves gain altitude. At the top, fittingly, there are forty and fifty year old malts, the likes of which I’ve never seen, anywhere. Not in any store; not on any menu; not even in any catalogue or web listing. I recall offhand the Laphroaig 40, and a Bruichladdich 40, and I know we saw more than one fifty, but the selection was so overwhelming that I could not keep track. On a shelf far from the top, indicating that these were nothing special, were two different Macallan 30s – one Fine Oak, and one Sherry Oak. Either one now sells for close to a grand.

The predominant difference, however, between Federal and any other store I’ve ever visited, was the selection of private bottlings. Dozens upon dozens of bottles of Blackadder, Duncan Taylor, Gordon & Macphail and Scott’s Selection. Because the private bottlings are usually shelved together, that means any particular whisky can be found in as many as a half-dozen locations. But that’s not even the most confusing thing about Federal.

Behind the counter, in boxes sitting on the floor, and on a couple low lying shelves, are dozens of open bottles, available for tasting, but thrown together with absolutely no organization. Which meant that every time the manager, Joe Howell, wanted to give us a taste, he had to search through anywhere from two dozen, to maybe one hundred open bottles of whisky, looking for that one malt we were seeking. It was the same process whenever we asked for something we wanted to buy – Joe would disappear for up to fifteen minutes, and then reappear, sometimes with a few malts to display, and sometimes empty handed. One can’t shop at Federal when there are any time constraints. It became the afternoon’s activity. Later on, we discovered why things went so slowly. Downstairs is Federal’s wine cellar, which they suggest you visit. So in one of the lulls, while waiting for Joe to return, we climbed down the narrow winding staircase, and found ourselves in a labyrinth of narrow aisles, with wine cases stacked to the ceiling, and again with little or no discernible organization. There might be a stacking of a dozen cases of some Bordeaux, each with a different name on it (John thought they were probably restaurateurs.) right next to a variety of Italian whites. In the back there was a cellar of sorts, with a half dozen wine racks displaying a wide variety of more expensively priced wines largely from Europe. But mostly, there were thousands upon thousands of cases of beverages, piled as high as the stone and cement walls would allow, leaving only a few inches of space for one wanting egress from this underground maze.

Once we had Joe’s attention, which took more than a few minutes, we told him we were looking for Bunnahabhain and Rosebank, but that we wanted bottlings we couldn’t find ellsewhere. He searched the shelves for a few minutes, and then disappeared downstairs for the first time. After ten minutes, he returned with two Scott’s bottlings of Bunnahabhain, both cask strength, one 16 years old, and one 20. He then found an open bottle of the 16, and offered each of us a taste. It was wonderful; only problem was that it was $160 for the 16, and who knows how much for the 20. (John says that Scott’s malts are always very pricey.) I told Joe that despite its quality, we couldn’t go $160 for a bottle. Sorry. He then disappeared for another ten minutes, and returned with the only bottle of Rosebank in the entire store, a 14 year-old Connoisseurs’ Choice, bottled by Gordon & Macphail. When Joe announced that we could have the Rosebank for $67, I knew our visit wasn’t a waste.

Over the next forty minutes or so, Joe searched for more Rosebank, which he couldn’t find; announced that he was expecting some cask strength Rosebank from Gordon & Macphail later in the week (This is the same bottling John previously located for me.); and gave us tastes of a few more malts. The first was Bladnoch, another Lowland malt, which has apparently resumed production after a decade long hiatus. It was actually quite similar to Rosebank, and wasn’t badly priced. But as our quest was for Rosebank, of which there is only a limited supply left, but which apparently hasn’t yet become overly fashionable, leaving the price moderate for a spirit of limited supply, and not just for a lowland malt, we had to decline the Bladnoch. Still, it’s worth noting that Jackson reviews several Bladnochs quite favorably, so perhaps sometime in the future, we can branch out. Later on, we were given a sample of Glentauchers, another very esoteric malt, which was notable mainly because Joe poured it from a little lab bottle with no real label – only a handwritten postage stamp listing the age and bottler. All in all, we had four or five whiskies to sample, in the seventy five minutes we spent at Federal, and not one of them can be located, at least to my knowledge, within a hundred miles of Rochester. John asked Joe about tastings, and he said that they don’t run them in the summer time; check back after Labor Day. But really, who needs a tasting when one can try four or five or more malts, none of them available elsewhere, just by visiting, and buying a bottle or two.

And oh, by the way, in the time we spent at Federal, we saw some guy buy a single bottle of beer for $175. For real. So next time you need a 40-year scotch for a gift, or perhaps a bottle of malt from some distillery that’s been closed since 1992, try Federal Wine & Spirits, in the heart of historic Boston.

The After Dinner Flight

One week ago – dinner at Keen’s Chophouse with G-Man. Midtown was teeming. Whether it was the fact that the All-Star Game had brought fans and families despite the high ticket prices, or maybe the cheap dollar had brought thousands of tourists, or perhaps the high price of jet fuel (as noted in certain comments) had kept the New Yorkers close to home, the sidewalks were packed. Midtown featured some kind of street market along Madison Avenue, once known for its grey flannel suits, and not for falafel and Italian sausage. G-Man took me past the Garden just as a WNBA game was getting out, and the crowds were surging down into Penn Station. Herald Square was crowded with shoppers, who looked, at least to my untrained eye, like native New Yorkers. Finally, as the afternoon ebbed, we sought respite from the crowds at Keen’s bar.

We shared six malts that night, none of which are in my liquor cabinet, and five of which cannot be located anywhere in Rochester, at least not readily. To remove the suspense, here are the six, in the order of their consumption: Rosebank 13 (Whisky Galore bottling); Bruichladdich Full Strength; Macallan cask strength; Bruichladdich 20; Edradour Ballechin; and lastly, Talisker 25. John has already posted lyrically on the Edradour, and some of these others are rather well known, but having taken extensive notes throughout the dinner, I feel I owe it to the readers, and to G, not to mention posterity, which may one day no longer be able to find or afford some of these malts, the details of our observations.

Rosebank occupies a place of special affection for our family. We discovered it a couple years ago on a cruise ship, without knowing anything about it, including the fact that the distillery had already been closed for more than a dozen years. John immediately developed a fondness for this malt, and we have since then determined that it is the celebratory malt, for graduations, for championships, for memorable family occasions. This particular bottling of Rosebank, however, stands out as one of the best I ever tasted, including the original 18 year old featured at Maltings on the ship. Rosebank always has a wonderfully floral nose, befitting its name, but this bottling was especially aromatic. The other distinction was its richness; the texture of the whisky was more luxurious, more buttery, than any other lowland malt I can recall. After remarking on the very long finish exhibited by this Rosebank, G-Man observed: “I forgot how nice it is.” The more we drink, the more I’ll mourn its passing.

The other malt we shared before dinner was the cask strength version of Bruichladdich. I’ve tasted the Bruichladdich Full Strength once before – at The Last Hurrah. But we drank so many spectacular whiskies that day, and I imbibed so much, that’s hard to recall many of them other than by name. I’ve come to enjoy cask strength whiskies- finding them more flavorful, even if they are not quite as smooth as their older brethren. Even with water, most cask strength whiskies retain more bite than, say, an 18 year-old 86 proof version, of the same whisky. Nevertheless, the taste usually makes up for the bite, and this Laddie is no exception. Think too of how much flavor is found in any bottle of Laddie, and then extrapolate out to the full flavor end of the spectrum. What a start.

Skipping right over the porterhouse for three, which probably deserves its own posting, we chose the after-dinner flight, in part on the recommendation of John and Rico, and in part on the fact that it’s really an exceptional buy. For less than one-third the price of the Rockefeller flight, one can enjoy whiskies that really are beyond the usual price range. Not to mention the nice variety of tastes than provide a perfect conclusion to the evening’s dining. So here we go.

Macallan Cask. Notwithstanding what I just said, the Macallan is nothing special. It’s good, and it’s flavorful, but all the Macallans from the 10 on up, are bursting with flavor, and once you get to the seventeen and beyond, the interminable finish allows you to enjoy this malt long after it’s been tasted, and swallowed. It goes on and on. But the cask strength was the only whisky in this flight that could, in any way, be called ordinary. Still, we found the flavor rich – chocolate and caramel, and with some watering, this was a smooth and mellow malt. Cruise control; easy drinking.

Bruichladdich 20. The chalk-board, and even the little placemat on which the flight was served, both describe this at the 21, but G and I returned to the bar afterward, to see the bottle, and it was the 20, not the 21 which had been poured. That difference was of no moment. As good as the full strength had been before dinner, the 20 was even better. G-Man says the nose transported him to another dimension; I found a touch of sweetness in this malt. Like all of the Laddies, there is a hint of peat, but an overwhelming flavor, and with the 20, no bite at all. It was as smooth and velvety a whisky as one could imagine. The only problem with Bruichladdich is that the prices are going up through the roof. The 15, which was everyone’s favorite, is now at least $70; and the 17 sells for $100. I’m guessing that the 20 is well beyond that – perhaps in the $150 range. I think that Rico would explain this in terms of a scarce commodity, or a growing demand, with a fixed supply. Or something like that. And as good as it was, I’m not about to start dropping a buck-fifty for every bottle of whisky I buy. I still recall when great whisky and the world’s best wine, sold for under ten dollars a bottle. If my dad knew the price of the malts in my own cabinet, he’d roll over. So unfortunately, we’ll leave the Laddie 20 for the occasional visit to the likes of Keen’s.

Edradour Ballechin, another peated highland. Edradour is apparently Scotland’s smallest distillery, recently purchased by an independent bottler as I recall. I haven’t seen it on the shelf, and have no idea of its price, although I noted that Keen’s charges $24 for a full pour, a lot considering the reasonable prices they usually charge. There were actually two Edradours on Keen’s listing; our bartender poured us the one finished in burgundy casks. The nose is overwhelming – think smoked bacon. The taste, however, is sweeter than the nose. And it’s more smoke than peat. The overall impression is barbeque. And after an initial bite (I’m guessing this is a young whisky.) there is a long finish that gets sweeter still. If this malt is at all affordable, it would be great after a spicy dinner cooked over the grill. Let’s hope supply and demand doesn’t put this out of our range.

Finally, the Talisker 25, another unaffordable malt; I’m finding it listed in the $200 range. I doubt there are even two stores in this county that stock it. This is clearly Talisker, but everything has been raised to the nth power. (I was by then too far gone to calculate n with any accuracy.) The flavor is enormous, and continues to grow and grow, for as long as you can keep this malt on your palate. The finish is long, really long; longer than the line of people at the Apple store waiting to buy the new iphone.

And again, for the benefit of all readers, as well as posterity, the cost of the after-dinner flight was only $44. I’ve heard stories from Mike about how a midtown vodka tonic, made with one of those phony designer vodkas, runs about $20. So this flight would be a bargain anywhere on the planet. Only thing is, there are very few places on the entire planet where one would even find this medley of malt whiskies. So forget about jet fuel and the Rockefeller flight; Rosebank and the After Dinner Flight; that’s what I’m talking about.

The All-Star Break

It’s the end of the All-Star break, commonly thought of as the midpoint of the season. Actually, it’s more like the 60% mark, which by coincidence is the magic number according to my calculations. Whoever plays .600 ball will end up with 96 wins, and find themselves in the playoffs. And to do that, to play .600, the Sox (or anyone else) need to end up thirty games above five hundred. The way to do that is to pick up five games on five hundred every month, and by that calculation, the Sox are almost right on schedule. I say almost, because right now, they are just below.600, and also because they have to play the next six games on the West Coast, where they have had little success the past couple years.

During that first sixty percent of 2008, the Sox have played well despite almost never having had their complete starting lineup on the field. Injuries to Papi, to Lowell, to Dice-K, to Buckholz, and minor bumps and bruises suffered by Beckett, and Youk, and Manny, among others, have forced not only the remaining starters, but also the bench, and even the minor leaguers to step up. Some guys have really stood out, like Drew in June, when he was AL player of the month, hitting as many home runs as all of last year. Other guys have been hot and cold – Pedroia on fire just before the break, or Manny streaky all season. Others still have not played up to expectations, like Lugo. (I’m still pining for Cabrera.)

So there are two ways to look at this. On the one hand, even without an intact starting lineup, and with Schill apparently out for the season, the Sox have still managed not just to be competitive, but to find themselves atop the AL East standings at the All-Star break. With a healthy Papi, the Sox should win more of those one-run games that bedeviled them in June; and with a more consistent starting rotation, the remaining schedule should favor the Sox chances for the post-season. Of course, that assumes that the injuries are done for 2008, and there’s no assurance that is the case. What if Ortiz’ wrist is still hurting, despite the fact that he homered for Pawtucket in his first game back?

On the other hand, what is there to suggest that the inconsistencies that have plagued this year’s squad are going to disappear for the stretch run? Unlike last year, Pap and Okajima are no longer unhittable. Beckett started the year with a sore back, and has yet to display the dominance that characterized last October. Lester has probably been the closest thing to an ace this year, with some dominant performances, but even he has wilted at times. Dice-K has the most impressive numbers of any of the starters, but he’s been very inefficient, and has rarely pitched late into any games. As a result, the bullpen has been overused most of the year, and that’s been a big problem, because there really are no consistent middle relievers. There’s no one who has been dependable for two or three innings. So why will any of this change? And in both of the championship seasons, we needed a bullpen that could shut down the opposition consistently. Think of Foulke’s run in 2004, or Pap last fall.

The best thing about this uncertainty, however, is the peace of mind that comes from 2004 and 2007. It’s not like it’s the last best chance. If the team falters, and management lets Manny go, rather than spend the $20 Million needed to bring him back next year, it won’t be the end of the world, even if it would be pretty dumb. Which is to say that we can still enjoy the final months of the regular season, and the pennant run, and if they don’t succeed, there’s always next year. Especially with all the kids on this year’s squad. Still, the dinner tab at Keen’s is riding on the next couple months, and that’s by no means insignificant. And which reminds me, I’ve yet to post on last week’s dinner – and the after-dinner flight. I’ll do that over the weekend, hopefully while watching some highlights. (I never watch the highlights when they lose.) Go Sox.

Delight is to him

Over the past year or so I've been making monthly whiskey trips to New York City. Actually, I'm working for the Metropolitan Museum, but I can't really consider these trips work-related because the focus has always been on friends, food, and of course, malts. After each trip, I've promised a post, and now that the Master distiller of Ardmore is reading this blog, I really can't make any more excuses.

The cast of characters always includes Toons, aka Brooklyn Rico. Some readers of this blog might be wondering about Rico's comments. I wish I could clarify these for for you, but his posts are more Joyce than Montiagne, and I usually have no idea what he's talking about. Andy might be able to understand him better; they share some of the same passions.

I bring up Rico, formerly Unkle Rico, because we just spent an evening at the bar at Keens. We enjoyed our steak (and it was delicious) at the Tunick household in Scarsdale and took the rails into the city for refreshments. My evening began with a Rosebank, 13 years old. Keens used to have two Rosebanks, but now only one remains. As time goes by I imagine we'll see less and less, so I always order it if it's on the menu. I have a bottle at home, reserved for Boston championships. That rule is putting my supply in demand, as I'm sure the New Yorkers reading this blog are well aware. Toons opened with a Cragganmore Distiller's edition. One of the great things about Keens is that they have the best version of everything. We followed with a pour of Hirsch Bourbon, another endangered whiskey. Hirsch is the richest Bourbon I have ever tasted. Only the Pappy 20 year old comes close to it's smoothness, but Hirsch has a lighter, golden taste, and a buttery texture. I can't do it justice; the readers need to try this whiskey before it's gone and know for themselves.

The only problem with Hirsch is that it's so good I'll buy it at any price. Once you're willing to pay for a glass of whiskey with multiple Andrew Jacksons, you start to lose track of valuations. Toons and I started to eye the Rockefeller flight and it's $140 tag didn't seem so absurd any more. In fact, it was tempting. Somehow we came back to earth and decided to order the After-dinner Flight: Bruchladich 21, Macallan Cask Strength, Edradour Ballechin, and Talisker 25. Wow, what a line-up. I could go on-and-on about all of these, but the one that deserves special mention is the Ballechin. This is another new release, and like Ardmore, is a peated highland. It's one of the most complex malts I've ever tasted, with a woody nose and a totally unique taste and finish. It has a big, unusual flavor that seems perfectly designed for the experienced Scotch drinker. It definitely doesn't try to please everyone, and I can imagine some novice drinkers getting freaked out by it.

I've put together a solid list of whiskey bars in New York, and I'll list them all in a future post. In the meantime I'll leave you with a quote from Melville, who was probably thinking of Brooklyn Rico and drinking Ballechin as he put pen to paper: "Delight is to him--a far, far upward, and inward delight--who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self."

Ardmore

Before we get started, let me point out that this is an historic moment -- the first time we are posting from New Jersey. I'm here with G-Man, and what better to post about, other than whisky?

After drinking malts for a few years, I have concluded that it's no longer easy to find anything new. Malts are not like wines; there aren't thousands of wineries, with different vintages each year; instead, there are today only a few dozens of distilleries. And among those, perhaps half or more are not even worth the trouble. So even more difficult than finding something new, is finding something new that's actually worth finding. I mean, there are always random whiskies that aren't all that distinguished, and while they may be new, are not all that different. I think of Deanston, which I found once in Armory Square, but which really was quite disappointing. Danny mentioned this same malt recently, as an example of why new and different isn't necessary a virtue.

But never mind all that. On John's recommendation, I picked up a bottle of Ardmore, the peated highland, and brought it to New Jersey, to open with G-Man. And I'm pleased to report that not only is Ardmore new and different, but it's definitely worth tasting. The bottle we bought is styled, "Traditional Cask", although I don't really know what that means. It had no age statement, and wasn't really cask strength; still, at 46%, it was not chill filtered, and benefitted from a splash of water. G-Man found Ardmore to be sweeter than the Islay malts; what I noticed was that, although it has a peat flavor, it has almost none of the briny character of the stronger Islay whiskies. It's smokier than Highland Park, but the malty highland backbone is evident. Lots and lots of flavor. Think of young Macallan, somehow made smoky.

I guess then that the bottom line for Ardmore is that it's unique. And if it's unique, that makes it a good addition to the cabinet. Think of some of the other unique whiskies -- let's say, Talisker -- that have some characteristic that just can't be found elsewhere: The peppery flavor of Talisker; the brine of Laphroaig, the floral scent of Rosebank. It's always worth having these around the house because you never know when you'll get that certain craving. Like when the Celtics demolished the Lakers in Game Six, and we needed a Rosebank, and only a Rosebank, to toast that occasion. Perhaps tomorrow night, when we're sitting at the bar at Keen's, staring at those six tiers of malts, all 300 of so, we'll find something else that's new and different, or even memorable. But for now, let's just say that John's recommendation was right on the money.

Be Careful What You Wish For

I got a fax the other day from a colleague who’s a Yankee fan. It was early in the week, when the Sox were playing down in Tampa, and he wrote across the top of the page, “Go Tampa Bay.” I called him up and warned him to be careful what he wished for. Over the past ten games, the Sox have gone 4-6 on the road, and the Yankees have the exact same record. Meanwhile, the Rays have won nine of ten, meaning that in less than two weeks, they gained five games on both teams. Right now with the best record in baseball, and that great pitching staff, they look hard to catch. It may be that the Sox and Yankees are playing for the wild card, against Minnesota and maybe Detroit, if they ever get hot.

The dinner at Keen’s will seem anticlimactic, if neither team makes the playoffs. On the other hand, as Manny says, it won’t be the end of the world either. If we can manage to get everyone together in New York, after the first round, and way before the after dinner flight, really, who will care that much? Speaking of which, I’m still waiting for a posting about the recent visit to Keen’s. I’m planning on introducing legislation making it a misdemeanor for any reader to visit that shrine, without posting or commenting. There is a visit scheduled within the next week, so all you readers can look forward to news on that front.

Meanwhile, yesterday saw seven hit batters, and not a single punch thrown. Can you believe it? Maybe everyone knew they were playing on the undercard, with Tampa Bay pounding Kansas City. Remember the good old days? With Varitek and A-Rod tangling? Or Pedro beating up on Don Zimmer? Justin Masterson was all over the place, but in the end, pitched pretty well for a young guy starting his first game in the Stadium. It wasn’t quite up to the level of Lester’s shutout, but this kid shows promise. I’d like to think that the Sox can keep him, and Lester, and Buckholz all under contract in the coming years.

I think the solution for 2008 is for Theo to engineer a trade which will put the Sox in the NL West. Right now, the best record in that Division is under .500. The Diamondbacks were the hottest team in baseball during April, but have really turned things around, unfortunately, in the wrong direction. All the pundits are now picking the Dodgers, who have muddled along with a patchwork lineup. I’d like to see Torre take them to the post season, just to demonstrate to everyone how idiotic Hank Steinbrenner is. As if there’s anyone alive who doesn’t know that already. And what happened to the Rockies? That late run in 2007 was supposed to be a harbinger of things to come, with a roster full of youngsters, but right now they’re tied with Cleveland at a blistering .420 pace. It doesn’t look like a return to the fall classic for Colorado.

June ended with the Sox 15 games above .500, still on pace, despite three five-game losing streaks. I know our defense has been great of late, with Manny at the DH spot, but we really need Papi in the lineup, yesterday being a perfect example. Let’s hope everyone stays healthy for the rest of 2008.