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.