Table Whisky
Port of Leith - North British NAS | 43% ABV
Score: 4/10
Some Promise.
TL;DR
A re-calibration of expectations, but after a while does become enjoyable.
Departing the Single Malt Lane
In the land of the whisky blind, the flavour bomb is king. I try to not let my eyes betray me, but I find myself often chasing flavour through single malt spectacles gilded with age statements, single casks, provenance statements and bottle designs.
The B word still seems to send shivers down some spines, and despite seriously enjoying a load of blends recently, personally still can’t find an angle enough to talk about it. Do I feel cheated when a bunch of single malts are smooshed together to form a conglomerate of whisky parts that, to one palate, or a small panel of palates, is worthy of releasing over the component parts themselves?
Almost all independent bottlers are releasing blends these days and whilst they’re generally cheaper than the single malts, the red light for me is not knowing what it might taste like before buying it. If I see a bottle of Glen Garioch from anywhere, I know enough about Geery character now to proceed to checkout, and discover what this iteration of the Geery brings to the table. Same for Ardnamurchan, Glasgow and many others - I love those styles of those particular distillery and can easily justify another take on those characters.
But thrust a blend of Glen Garioch, Ardnamurchan, Glasgow, North British, Craigellachie and Caol Ila in front of my digital face, and I’ll keep my wallet firmly shut - I have no idea what that might taste like. It’s a mystery, and tasting notes can only go so far to convincing me that I should pay sometimes big money out for the experience, something I learned with rippling echoes of pain a year on when I chose a bottle based on tasting notes - those are subjective too.
Blended whisky has to be tried first before I will deem it resonant enough to warrant a full bottle. Turntable, for example, sent whisky into Dramface that made its way to my door by redirection, and despite really enjoying it a lot, can’t really find a way to explain why it might be worthy of someone forking out nearly £70 for it. That’s a tall asking price for something as loved as single malt, never mind blended whisky.
On that same track is grain whisky. I’ve tried quite a few grain whiskies now with varying success. The SMWS Glasgow “Dark ‘n Stormy” was on nose and long palate a really interesting whisky, but a big soapy note kept me from loving it. My most beloved grain whisky is North British, something I fell in love with through Fragrant Drops’ 29yo Honey Bee. At Glasgow Whisky Festival this year I tried their 34yo sister cask, which was delectable, and a 15yo Red Wine cask, which was utter filth. So much filth the EIS bought them both for a split - expect that hot mess soon - and the buzz around them has me looking around for more North British to get my teeth stuck into.
Review
2/3 Virgin Oak, 1/3 Sherry cask matured. Natural colour, non-chill filtered, 43% ABV
£32.50 widely available
Whilst perusing for other things that tickled my fancy, with the 15yo Fragrant Drops in the bag, I saw a bottle that I’ve loved the look of for a while, and loved even more the concept of the bottle through the title of it - Table Whisky.
It immediately says to me a bottle that sticks around at the dinner table and is enjoyed by all. A go-to, unfussy, in-with-the-bricks drinky-pops that just…is, and always has been. It’s the stuff that folk who drink loads of wine have there just to share as they have dinner on a Monday. It’s nothing special, but nothing rank either.
The term “table” also has other connotations. Table Wine, as defined in the EU wine regulations, is an official class of wine that denotes a wine that hasn’t achieved the criteria that makes it a quality wine; the “quality wines produced in specific regions” class is a quick go-to designator for a more premium wine. On the surface, to call your whisky “Table” Whisky and present it in a wine style bottle, is a bold move that has me swooning. But digging into it further I see that, in fact, it’s just a way for wines to be controlled more strictly, and the term “Table Wine” can be used for any wine that doesn’t adhere to a specific method or grape variety (maybe an alternative technique or different grape is used), or in looser terms wine that falls under 14% ABV. I’m sure Ainsley knows far more about it than me…
Anyway. A £32.50 single grain Scotch whisky, at 43% that has “non-chill filtered + natural colouring” on the back label. This will either be a disaster zone, or a master stroke. I’ll either be swearing off cheap NAS grain whisky, or have a bottle of this permanently on the table, as a go-to whisky for an evening where I don’t fancy thinking about it, or maybe even as a calibrator. Off we go!
Score: 4/10
Some Promise.
TL;DR
A re-calibration of expectations, but after a while does become enjoyable.
Nose
Contact glue. Wood. Vanilla. Ice cream with too much frost. Shreddies. White chocolate.
Palate
Contact glue. Pepper. Sweet vanilla. Canderel/Synth sugar. Not soapy! Bit of wood, waxy white choc and the merest hint of something red happening. More glue. Bit of hairspray. Mixed nuts.
The Dregs
After I posted up a few pics of this on Instahoot, below comments on someone asking about the bottle design, Table Whisky’s official account (split off from the Port of Leith Distillery account) clarified that the Table Whisky’s reason for being is for fun, and sharing, and being, rather than a low-quality product. Which removes a bit of the DGAF from the mix, which is a shame - they do care enough to clarify on some auld dudder’s post with 31 likes (so far).
The bottle design is brilliant, and Port of Leith’s branding in general is next level. Me ‘n McWee had a chat about it after he departed from the Motherland, and he showed me some of the things available in the shoppe - everything has a style that is delicious. All things have various “divisions” in the company, like the t-shirts showing “Propaganda Division”, along with statements of the garments remaining property of Leith Distillery “Uniforms Division”.
It’s a great swagger. I want to buy into it and I see that I can, through their “Quality Control Division” - a membership where you sign up for 8 years, each year receiving 2x20cl of spirit as it matures, starting with new-make, and in the 8th year receiving 2x 70cl bottles of 7yo whisky. This membership costs £550, and you can double your intake with an “Archivist” tier, costing £900. It’s a tempting journey to undertake, and with their beautiful branding and language, a place I feel I’d enjoy.
But it’s still £550, so instead I’ll make do with this £32.50 bottle of North British.
At first pop this whisky is wildly challenging for me - it’s like sniffing and sipping contact glue. It reminds me immediately of The Gospel and how it made me feel. But I’ve heard a few folk say this is white chocolate and gingerbread, so I’ll persevere.
After a good 30 minutes the carpet glue is still around but the palate starts to bypass it, opening up the other notes - a woody note starts to blossom, along with sweeter, white chocolate notes! Maybe I just need to re-calibrate my face to this being not whisky as I know and love it, but a different drink. I guess I’m so used to drinking single malts or aged single grains (>25 years) that such youthful grain (I assume, given there’s no age statement or indication of what age this might be) is simply a different drink entirely.
Second pour and things are starting to settle for me. My expectations are realigned and I’m enjoying what is happening in the glass - it’s getting peppery and rich, and I almost feel a waxiness on the roof of my mouth forming. Weird. It’s a good accompaniment for watching television or, like Table Whisky posit, something to sip whilst chatting with pals. It commands no attention. After acclimatising to the glue note it becomes unobtrusive, and each subsequent pour leads on from the last without fanfare, without much of anything really. Which is what it’s designed for.
As a scotch drinker this is not going to win my heart by a long stretch, but as a drink to have when your mind is completely taken up with other things, it’s a decent option. I’d still prefer something like Arran Barrel Reserve or Tobermory 12 to fill that role, because it’s nice to be drinking whisky that, now and then, reminds you it’s brilliant. A fleeting note or a hidden flavour that suddenly appears mid-Netflix and the eyebrows shoot up. That hasn’t happened with Table Whisky, other than to ask who is gluing something at this ungodly hour.
Very interesting nonetheless and I can see exactly why Leith have deemed this Table Whisky - it’s the equivalent of Table Wine. I’m pleased to have tried it, giving myself another reference point on the giant map of flavour and grain types. I’m also pleased to have tried a different version of North British, knowing I have a 15yo and a 34yo in the pocket for analysis soon too. It’ll lead nicely into that, and form a good idea of where North British sings, and why.
Worth £32.50 of your budget? Unless you are absolutely desperate to try it, or love the chemical adhesive profile, or fancy a change, or need something to exist as a lubricator for discussion, or love the branding, or want to try North British without maturation enough to transform it into something stunning, then you’d be better spending that budget on any of the single malts in the <£35 bracket.
In the land of the whisky blind, the flavour bomb is king. Well…I guess it depends on the flavour.
Score: 4/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. DC
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