Tullibardine

It's rare that we get to taste a whisky we're completely unfamiliar with. I know that we haven't tasted all of the malts bottled in Scotland, but I've been under the impression for a while now that pretty much anything worth tasting as a single malt has been marketed for sale in this country. Maybe that's a conceit; maybe a trip to the UK would allow us to taste a host of wonderful malts that would otherwise remain a mystery to us here in the States. But I'm guessing that the whisky market in this country is about as good as anywhere on the planet, and if there's a distillery making quality whisky, it's finding a way to sell that whisky here in the U.S.

So it came as a surprise to me recently to see a bottle of Tullibardine 1992 on the shelves at Whitehouse. It was just before Thanksgiving, and I was looking to pick up a couple bottles for the holiday weekend. Not only was Danny coming for dinner on Thursday, but the boys were home for several days after our weekend in New York, and we vowed to drink only the best malts for the few days we were together. Ben didn't know much about this malt; only that he had received good comments about the couple bottles he had sold previously.

I went on-line, and learned that Tullibardine is one of those distilleries that had closed in the recent past, when everyone who knew no better was drinking vodka and white wine. Fortunately, the place reopened earlier in the decade, began operating its stills once more, and resumed marketing the whisky that had lain dormant in casks for the previous dozen or so years. It's hard to figure why these distilleries closed, once you taste the whisky. With all the mediocre spirits that are produced around the globe, how was it that a place like Tullibardine couldn't find a way to sell its malt? No matter. The distillery is operating once more; the whisky is available even here in Rochester; and we're all lucky that this malt will remain available in years to come.

Tullibardine is a highland malt, but tastes to me like some of the great lowland whiskies. It's very light for a highland, both in color and in taste. It has a wonderful floral nose, and a soft, almost delicate flavor. Danny found it exceptionally sweet. What I like best about it is that it's different from most other highlands. Don't get me wrong; I love the rich malty flavor of Macallan or Aberlour. But the great thing about scotch whisky is the broad spectrum of tastes that are found in these spirits. Tullibardine and Laphroaig, for example, couldn't be much more different in taste. This variety is something you don't find with any other spirit. There are no two bourbons, or two ryes, that are as different from each other as those two scotch whiskies are. So depending on when you're drinking; and what you're in the mood for; or what foods you might be tasting; or whether you have a cigar at hand; there's always the right scotch whisky for the occasion.

But to suggest that Tullibardine has value only because it's light and different from the island malts fails to give this whisky its due. This is a delightful malt whisky in its own right, and I for one am glad that someone has the good sense and foresight to rescue this dormant distillery, and bring its product back to the market. Now if they'd only do that for Rosebank; then I'd really be a happy man.

The Haters Ball

Thanksgiving. Sitting in the kitchen with the boys, while they're making the holiday dinner. Much to be thankful for. I'm still trying to figure out if we should make speeches at the table later. I doubt that anyone actually wants to do that, but isn't it better to say that stuff out loud, for everyone to hear. Even if everyone already knows it. And really, what harm could result from all of us hearing out loud what's sitting silently in our hearts?

Saturday night last, within the shadow of the Haters Building, we convened at Keens for the annual Haters Ball. Here's what I recall of the malts we tasted:

Opening up with Suntory 18, respect for Series MVP Hideki Matsui. The Japanese make very credible malts, not exactly scotches, because of course the water and the earth, what Jackson calls the terroir, are different. Danny thinks the Japanese whiskies are sweeter, and closer to bourbon than scotch. Exactly where they land on the spectrum, who knows? But this 18 was rich and full flavored, perhaps a bit rough around the edges for a whisky of that age.

Next we drank PC6, one of the Port Charlottes, a new line distilled by the Bruichladdich folks, apparently in an effort to recreate the taste and character of a now extinct Islay distillery just down the road from where Laddie sits. In fact, although the malt is distilled at Bruichladdich, it ages in the old Port Charlotte warehouse. In any event, this malt has a big earthy peat flavor, more dirt than seaside. It reminds me of the peat characteristic of the peaty highland malts, like Ardmore and Ballechin, more than the traditional briny islay flavor of Laphroaig or Lagavulin.

Port Ellen '79 vintage. Port Ellen is one of the lost gems that Keens has managed to keep alive and available, although I fear it will soon disappear, along with the likes of Rosebank. In the meantime, Port Ellen is a traditional Islay whisky, with a surprising light nose and palate. The peat is clearly there, but it's a more subtle and understated flavor than the aforementioned Islay whiskies. Think of a cross between a lowland and an Islay.

From then on, although we continued to enjoy a selection of exceptional malts, they were all whiskies we knew well. HP 15, a bit lighter than the 18, and softer than the 12. Bruichladdich 18, a big full flavored Laddie. Danny claims that, stuck on a desert island, if he could only drink one whisky, it would be Bruichladdich. G-Man and I vote for HP 18, but either way, it would be a great way to pass the time until rescued. Lastly, John ordered an after dinner dram of Bunnahabhain 18, the silkiest whisky known to man, with that elusive and mysterious Bunnahabhain flavor lurking below the malt, alongside just a hint of peat.

And to compliment the porterhouses that were soon to arrive on the table, we ordered a magnum of a big, rich and chewy California blend - Girard Artistry. We knew nothing at all about this blend, whose backbone is Cabernet, but were pleased to learn later that wine spectator had given it 92 points. And it was cool to have the magnum opened for us, just to acknowledge that the Haters Ball celebrates excess in all culinary categories. It's not a night for the meek or cautious.

So we're thankful we all had a chance to gather in NY, with friends and family and good fellowship, even if we all are haters.

Johnson's Garden Party

We were in New York last weekend, for the annual Haters Ball, and more on that in an upcoming post, and we were staying on Seventh Avenue, with a view of the Garden from our front door. So after Cuse had blown out 12th ranked California on Thursday night, and without much in the way of expectations, I went to the box office on Friday, and bought three seats high up in the Garden. We waited for the preliminary game to conclude, and as we walked the block or so from hotel to the Garden, it seemed like much of the crowd was arriving with us, for the main attraction, for the game everyone wanted to see -- unranked Cuse playing the defending national champs, fourth ranked Carolina.

I won't bother with the game recap, as everyone on the planet already knows that Cuse blew the TarHeels away with a 22-1 run to open the second half. Wes Johnson dazzled everybody who saw him that night, with a double double, and an inside-outside game reminiscent of another small forward who also celebrated his coming out party in Madison Square Garden. On Thursday, he had six blocks against Cal, and we saw how that happened, as he skied to take rebounds away from Carolina's bigger front line. He hit a dagger three in the second half run that vaulted Cuse to a seventeen point lead Carolina could never really challenge. But my favorite play of the night was when he was back alone, defending against a 2 on 1 break, and instead of trying to draw a charge, or block a layup, and ending up surrendering a three-point play, he poked the ball away on the dribble, prevented UNC from scoring on the break, and forced them to set up against the 2-3, which by them had become impenetrable.

The Garden is a great spot for a coming out party. Forget about all the media attention that is focused on that venue, as a result of which Johnson and the Orange became the favorite flavors of ESPN and the NY papers, at least for the weekend. What I liked was the crowd. The place was loud and electric all night. In the first half, when Cuse and Carolina were back and forth, and the game still close, both teams' fans made themselves heard. By the second half, when it was all Orange, the crowd chanted "Let's Go Orange!" and "Overrated!", relentlessly. I love the Dome, especially when the Dome gets loud, and the Garden never reached the deafening levels one encounters when the crowd pushes 30,000 and beyond. But the Garden crowd stayed on its feet, and kept cheering long after the game had become a runaway, and there was no doubt about the outcome. Maybe that had something to do with beer sales continuing in the second half. I know that the kids sitting below us, who wanted to hate on Lemoyne with us, had reached a state of loud but congenial inebriation; we exited before they turned hostile or sloppy, although it took seven or eight handshakes and hugs before we could manage to leave.

Here's the best statistic of the young season. Cuse has won its first five games, and in those five games, they have had five different leading scorers. Some are predictable, like Johnson and Rautins. Some we'd like to see more often, like AO. But how about Jardine and Triche leading the way against Cal and Cornell? I hate to keep bringing up '03, but that year we had all the starters (not including Forth, of course), and even Edelin off the bench, leading the team on different nights throughout the season. It makes it tougher for opponents to shut them down. Right now, my biggest fear is that they'll climb too high in the rankings, because between now and the start of conference play, the only really tough game they face is Florida on a neutral court. It's good they lost to Lemoyne; hopefully that will remind everyone they aren't invincible. But it wouldn't be a bad thing to lose a game, or even to win one late, say from the foul line. There haven't even been any close finishes as yet. But in the meantime, I'm thinking I'd like to return to the Garden in March. Jonny who?

Jardine's Garden Party

It's been a bleak November, notwithstanding the many bright and sunny days that have graced upstate NY. First we had to watch the RedSox bullpen melt down, giving the Angels a three-game sweep. The after the Angels fell apart in the ALCS, we had to endure the indignity of the Empire winning its twenty-seventh title. Give credit where credit is due, however. The Yankees stepped up, and earned that title with a dominant post-season. And let's show respect for Matsui, who is the antithesis of the modern self-absorbed athlete.

Then forget about football season. Syracuse has had another dismal fall. They may not have been as inept as during the Robinson years, but still have managed to find new and creative ways to give away games. I've said this in the past, but I really think I've seen my last game from Section 130, Row V, Seats 7 and 8, where my dad and I sat through many a great game in the 80s, under Coach Mac, and even through the early 90s. But enough already. I saw victories this year over Maine and Akron, but in the old days, who would have taken heart from a win over a mid-major, or major-minor, or some Division 1-AA school? It's 22 years now since Cuse beat West Virginia in the best game I ever saw in the dome, trading TDs through the fourth quarter until the Orange won in the final seconds to go undefeated. Five years later, they lost to the number one ranked Hurricanes, when Gedney was tackled at the three yard line as time ran out. And forget about fifty years ago; we won't even go there.

But there is some promise for the winter months, after this demoralizing fall. Last night Cuse beat a highly ranked California team in the Garden, their home away from home. Not just beat Cal; but ran all over them. 95 points. They had that wake-up call against Lemoyne a couple weeks ago, and clearly stepped up their defensive intensity. And the team has those long and athletic guys, who can make the 2-3 so effective. (Remember Duany at the top of the zone?) Everyone expected Wes Johnson to contribute on the offensive end, and he has lived up to those expectations, but six blocks? The front line looks tough this year, and they have some help off the bench if AO and Jackson get in trouble.

But the star of the night was Scoop Jardine. I've been high on Scoop since his freshman year; he runs the floor well, he's unselfish; he keeps his teammates involved. I went back and checked, and last April, after Flynn declared, I predicted that the Orange would be OK at the point with Scoop and Triche running the team. Last night, off the bench, Jardine really filled up the stat sheet. 22 points, 6 assists, 6 rebounds -- ESPN recognized him as the player of the game. But my favorite stat of the night was that in twenty-seven minutes he had a single turnover. So when your point guard leads the team in scoring (many of those points coming off the break), and in assists, and never turns the ball over, that's a recipe for 95 points against a ranked team.

I was worried, before the season, about vulnerability from three-point range, but with Rautins and Johnson, and some decent shooters off the bench, on any given night they ought to have someone who can knock down threes, and loosen up defenses, so that the guards can get the ball inside to the big guys. I'm sure there will be nights when no one shoots well; in part, that's what happened with Lemoyne. But there's enough firepower to make up for the loss of Devo, and to keep the offense balanced.

Tonight they play Carolina, the defending champs, but win or lose, it looks like this is a team with potential, perhaps a team that can go a few rounds in March. So tomorrow night, amid all the hating, we'll raise a glass of scotch and take time to spread some optimism for this year's Orange, and a brighter, more cheerful winter.

Haters' Dilemma

What's a hater to do? My friend Matt called the other night while watching Game Two of the Series. He hates the Yankees, and who doesn't? But he's a Mets fan, so he hates the Phillies even worse. Plus, the decision was even more complicated, because Matt likes Pedro, and he thought it would have been great for Pedro to shut down the Yankees in the new stadium. However, after much deliberation, Matt decided that it was his sworn obligation to hate his division rival more than the Evil Empire, so he reluctantly rooted for the Phillies to lose. Not so much for the Yankees to win, you understand. Just for the other guys to lose. I felt that way about the ALCS; I didn't really want to see the Angels win. After all they had given us fits ovdr the past few seasons, and then knocked us out of the ALDS. But someone had to lose, and I certainly wanted to see them make the Yankees lose. No such luck.

It's November, and not only are they still playing baseball, but they're playing the most important games of the year in freezing cold weather with intermittent rain. I thought it was awful last year when the umps tried to have the deciding game of the series played in a freezing downpour, but I guess that's going to be the norm from now on. At least when the post-season gets played anywhere in the northern latitudes. Sometime soon, we'll see a championship decided by a game played with sleet or snow falling. What do all the Dominicans think about that?

The only good thing for me is that I don't have to stay up until the early morning hours to watch these freezing games. Last night there was a rain delay, and when I checked the game around midnight, they were still in the middle innings. It would be better if I had some football team to divert my attention, but this fall has been a bust on the gridiron. We went to see Cuse lose to Cincinnati yesterday (Cincinnati football team ranked in the top ten? Can that possibly be right?), and they managed to lose, not in the expected way, but in a new and unexpected way. Cuse let Cincinnati score twice on broken plays, and then turned the ball over twice when they were in the red zone. Paulus threw an interception, and Carter fumbled. Matt was pissed off because the crowd booed Paulus, but Mike says the students hate Paulus, for having passed up the Orange to play for Duke. It's like the Packer fans booing Favre today. Real haters can't tolerate traitorous behavior.

Game Four tonight. The Haters Ball in three weeks. Booing in the dome. It's a big month for all haters.