Core Range Official Release | 53.4% ABV

1,000

How might I select this bottle? It’s our 1,000th review after all: the Big K, the Grand, the Roman M, the Chiliad, the Bag o’ Sand. 

It should probably be something I like. Something with which I can raise an appropriate celebratory glass in recognition of a not insignificant milestone. But I also need something that’s representative of a phenomenon that’s crept up on us a little. So, for contemplative reasons, it’s this.

But forget the subject bottle for a moment, there’s something more pertinent to ask; why should it be me that has the privilege of writing the 1,000th review? Given the fact Dramface exists thanks to the efforts of many dedicated individual writers, that’s a bloody good question.

I mean, if you were to spot Wally in any setting from any distance, I’m pretty sure the overall impression would be rather thin on remarkability. It matters not which angle, time of day, context or mood, I’m pretty bang average. I’m rarely the tallest or the shortest, never the smartest and occasionally the dumbest. Not the funniest, or the best looking, and absolutely never the most charismatic. I’m average. I’m the guy whose sizes are always sold out. 

Yet somehow, among many other quite remarkable privileges afforded to me by whisky and all its accoutrements, I get to do fun whisky stuff and thus, I get to do above average things. I get to write this, today. Truth be told, I was the one who decided it would be me. Another privilege; that of the incumbent editor. And so write it, I shall.

But I’ll try to stop talking about me and, not for the first time, give Dramface and all of its thirty-strong team a little swagger-time, a little recognition, and a lotta love. Firstly though, let’s start with the spark of energy that started it all; the origin story.

I’d been toying with the idea for months but hadn’t yet scraped together the impetus, there were too many other distractions and, honestly, I wasn’t sure where to start. Impostor syndrome skulked in the background and I had half an idea someone else would do it. Then all of a sudden I had all the energy and focus I could ever need delivered in a flash. I knew how, I knew who and I knew when. The inflection point for this can be traced to a very specific moment.

I was on a flight to a whisky festival and I was reading a whisky book. This book, despite being rather good and full of insightful nuggets of amber knowledge, suddenly took on such an aloof, out-of-touch and gatekeeper-ish tone I was instantly jolted into a motivated state. A single sentence, in particular, was probably the inspiration for this entire whisky site you read today: 

“do not listen to YouTubers and that ilk!”

That was 2021 and the book was Everything You Need To Know About Whisky (but are too afraid to ask) by Nicholas Morgan.

Ex-Diageo, Dr Nick is deliciously opined. I know of no other whisky writer, today, who elicits a reaction through the written word like he does. Please don’t get me wrong, for every paragraph that has me spilling my tea there are many more that have me nodding my head. You can enjoy some of his work today through the Master of Malt blog, where he’ll occasionally dish up an impeccably timed doozy to set the barley alight.

Anyway, the quote is not his words directly, but he chose to include it as it represented the summed up thoughts of all of ‘our industry insiders’. 

Industry insiders indeed. In all of the time I’ve been enjoying whisky I have become more exposed to those who walk-the-walk, talk-the-talk and live whisky, in all its forms, as their daily grind. Most of us who simply enjoy and consume whisky as fans will never know half of what they’ve already forgotten. We gaze on, often in awe. Experts in their respective fields, it’s a delight to hear the tales, perspectives and facts about what they do and the space in which they work. One of the greatest pleasures of a large event or festival, or indeed visiting a distillery, is the ability to briefly enter the orbits of these people, and hear directly from these ‘insiders’. They will sate and fire our curiosities, all at once. We eat it up and seek more.

Yet, you know what I never enjoy from any of those encounters? A solid, impassioned whisky recommendation without an accompanying partisan motive.

In my experience, there are few who care to know about anything outside of the scope of their own roles or the reach of their own brands. There are exceptions; there are insider enthusiasts and geeks - and I strongly believe their number is growing - but I suspect it’s the rising count of independent distillers and bottlers that seem predisposed to harness this pool of whisky consumer intel.

I know the quote was specifically about YouTubers, but it was pointed towards anyone of this ‘ilk’, ergo; those that are not industry insiders. It’s contextually implicit that, in these amateur spaces, the knowledge isn’t there and nor can it be. It’s therefore not worth your time; not without the vital industry-insider insight. 

Nonsense.

Firstly, let’s not dwell on the irony that this follows earnest efforts in the book to highlight whisky’s inclusivity. Thereafter there is also genuine time spent defining the author’s take on what an expert is, and what expertise is. Let’s just let that lie, for a moment. Let’s instead consider the value of those YouTubers and what they have that too few in ‘the industry’ seem to understand. That is; a deep, visceral, experiential knowledge that comes from buying their own bottles. Nothing refines discernment better than being relieved of some hard-earned cash. ‘Industry insiders’, who generally do not buy their own whisky, would do well to remember this. 

Like so many independent, grass-roots, fan-founded spaces out there in the digital whisky realm, these YouTubers and digital creators are simply leveraging modern platforms to share their thoughts on bottles and choices, whilst standing on the exact same level playing field as their peers, or the audience who tunes in to watch, listen or read. 

Dramface is no different. I hope it’s rare for you to feel that we are parading as experts here. Just like so many independent spaces we support - and link to from the bottom of each and every review article, including those YouTubers - we often state loudly and clearly that we are not experts.

And yet.

Who else should you listen to when it comes to a reliable recommendation of an ever more expensive commodity? Consider the behaviour of the enthusiasts and their wide-eyed pursuit of flavour, their relentless exploration of new brands, tireless promiscuity of styles and voracious chasing of the next must-try bottles; they are not only the ones best placed to share genuine, measured and honest insight, I’ll go further and suggest they are the experts at this. It is literally what they do.

But it’s more than that. What about those who are not yet expert at anything? What about those who are still in the early stages of their exploration? Have they nothing to share? No value? Is there nothing of interest in the vicarious reliving of wonderment? No new perspectives to be gleaned from those first exploring today? I’d say there absolutely is - fresh vitality is essential, especially for those of us who are at risk of becoming a little jaded. 

You see, at Dramface, we love all of it. We love vicarious enjoyment of whisky through anyone who also loves it. If something has prompted someone to step up and take an action, especially when it demands placing their head above the parapet, chances are they’re pretty enthused. They have something to share. Chances are they can find a willing audience; many of whom won’t give a stuff about the ‘expertise’ of industry insiders.

In these pages we have content from everyone at every stage. Just like tuning into a whisky YouTube channel, you can hopefully build a rapport; a trust. You may choose to follow the story-arc of an endearingly sentimental Ogilvie Shaw or the beautifully vivid Dougie Crystal. Maybe you’ll relive discovery through the wide-with-wonder eyes of a Paisley MacKinnon or the humour of a Gilbert Gunn. Perhaps you’re here for the sheer knee-deep-in-chemistry detail and geekery of a Tyree Kai, or the critical, objective angles of a Broddy Balfour, and who isn’t here for some genuine ex-industry insight from the piercingly direct Fletcher Finlay? Isn’t there space for all of this?

Was the quote from Morgan’s book less about what we had to say and more about where we chose to say it, perhaps? Possibly, but I think it betrayed more than that. I think it was much less about the platform; it wasn’t a shot at YouTube and it wasn’t actually a successful shot at ignorance or naivety either. It was a knee-jerk reaction to changing times. It betrayed a sense of a loosening grip on narrative control. 

I may have taken the quote in the book too seriously, but it fortified my belief in independent, individual opinion and safe spaces to share it. Our experiences are valid, your experiences are valid. I used the resultant energy to kick-off these pages and, if you’re enjoying them as half as much as I am, that’s something to be grateful for. I think the quote, at worst, is a little clumsy. But my concern is, while everything is changing so quickly, the people staffing the scotch whisky-insider wheelhouse today may be just as myopic.

I really believe Dramface to be a small part of a continued positive change; of empowering whisky buyers and hopefully helping to create future discerning enthusiasts with measured and pragmatic outlooks towards whisky and its enjoyment. It will take us a long time, the grind continues, but we’re already top in most Google searches for whisky reviews and hitting a thousand of them is yet another reason for us to stand around in a big circle and pat ourselves on the back, all the while mindful that our path has been paved by others before us.

I’m reminded of Ralfy who, since 2009, has been a curiosity; a quirk, a self-declared ‘pest’ that wouldn’t go away. Whatever your position in whisky or your opinion of what Ralfy has achieved in fifteen years, the net positive he’s created is remarkable. The sheer number of today’s invested whisky lovers that thank him for his easy-handed, accessible and consistent introductions to a complex scene is immeasurable.  

Consider also that, today, amongst the ubiquitous pay-to-play whisky award schemes there exists not a single ‘expert’ whisky-panel certification or gong that anyone actually gives a stuff about, is there? No. Everyone, insider or outsider, only really cares about Serge awarding a 92.

There was a time, albeit long ago, when Serge Valentin was simply a new-fangled, internet-empowered voice and whisky botherer. I wonder how many years of Whiskyfun.com grind was required before ‘the industry insiders’ realised the potential impact of consumer opinion? I believe Nick Morgan knows; he details the site’s birth in his book, and leans on Serge’s wisdom throughout.

How about further back still; the founder of the Scotch Malt Whisky Society, the wonderfully maverick Pip Hills? How many whisky trajectories do you think he and his project have likely sparked? I don’t even know how to begin to measure the impact of his enthusiasm and vision, but I’m pretty certain he has tasted the outsider treatment first hand.

I don’t think any of the Dramface team would be offended if I suggested that none of us are likely to be the next Serge, Pip or Ralfy, far from it. But that’s neither our desire nor the point. Today, everything has moved on, relentlessly so.

The outlets to consume enthusiast-generated whisky content are countless. We take to video, written words, Reddit, Whiskybase, podcasts, online clubs and wherever else; not as experts, not as gifted tasters, but as eager, informed enthusiasts. It’s not a download, it’s an exchange.

It’s clear to us we can never know what the industry knows, but we freely offer our words, our faces, our feedback and our voices so that everyone, even those in the industry - or at least those who care - can know what we know.

Before I get into the actual review I’d like to show some gratitude for all of the effort that’s gone into making Dramface and putting together 1,000 reviews in a very short space of time. Something which can only be achieved with the power of collaboration.

I’m recalling those early days with the original team, bolstered by the prolific and disciplined Dallas, putting in the hours, the workflows, building the site, forming the structure and shaping the content together. 

Since then, many backroom volunteers like Eallair and Jackie have come forward to help it grow and prevent it from breaking; to Gregor and the podcast for giving us a fun distraction we never thought would be a thing, and what a thing it is.

To each and every one of our amazing writers; I treasure every article you submit, please continue to believe in the value of everything you share; your colourful personalities and individual humility make Dramface truly unique.

And, of course, to every one of you: our subscribing members (We Are Legion!) who pay all of the associated bills and give us life; our engaged supporters and vocal ambassadors who give every comment section under every article such interaction and layers of added value. And every person who stops by for a wee read, leaving a like, a comment or dropping a share, you give this project a palpable sentience. 

That’s you; reading this right now. I’m speaking about folk like you. Thank you. You see to it that we might endure.

We continue.

Review

White Peak Wire Works, Bourbon Barrel Release, 53.4% ABV
£60-65 and generally available

I’m smashing through this bottle at an alarming pace and I’m glad I took some images while there was a decent level still in the bottle.

I selected this bottle for our 1,000th review because it was sitting at the front of the Consider for Dramface pile. Oh, and that it’s bloody great. And I wanted something that was new; something we’re learning to understand and integrate into our ever-developing mental whisky landscape, as it itself develops. 

Englandshire is very pretty. A country lying just south of the Best Country In The World, English whisky comes from there. Much of it is incredible stuff. The Lakes have been gathering fans for a while, Bimber went from noob to nuclear in an instant, The English Whisky Co. are going from strength to strength, Cotswolds have shown everyone how to do a (natural!) supermarket whisky and everyone is looking towards the skunkworks that is Circumstance in Bristol; and I’m not even scratching the surface. 

In order to do a decent job of representing the nascent but breathless English whisky boom we’d need a few more Dramfaces. According to the wonderfully collaborative and unifying English Whisky Map from Cooper King, we are now counting 55 distilleries making whisky. Fifty-five. On average, since Dramface was born in early 2022 there’s been a new English whisky distillery every seven weeks. Ooft.

We really hope there is a demand and a place for each and every one. Much like their neighbours north of the border, and everywhere in whisky right now, things are not quite as rosy as they were a couple of years ago, but if today’s quality is a marker of tomorrow’s potential, most should be in good shape.

Yet, for this average and unremarkable commentator in whisky, there is one that has not put a single foot wrong and deserves to have a presence in every whisky botherer's stash; White Peak. And this wee dram today is a perfect example of that.

You might know them better by this Wire Works brand, under which all of their single malts have been labelled thus far. They launched in 2022 and have released quite a lot since. Some would argue too much, but in a cluttered space it’s tempting to freshen up the scene with the regular splash of a new release or two. Who can blame them? 

This is made up with some of their oldest released stock to date, which is still barely six years old. As I sip this and consider what’s coming from this distillery in the future, like so many of its peers on any side of any border, I can’t help but smile and be very happy that I found whisky and what it can do to enhance optimism and mortality. This is objectively delicious and way ahead of its age.

It joins their Caduro in what is now a decent core range, which I think is critical in helping us connect with new distilleries. With so many playful and geek-focused expressions such as their Up’ard* and Down’ard duo, as well as their spectacular Alter Ego, I’d love to see more of their tasty malt reviewed on these pages in future.

Nose

Lemon skins, Granny Smith apples, vanilla and pepper. Clear toffee, banana toffee (remember Toffos?), mustard, eucalyptus and Fox’s Glacier mints. After a splash of water, I dive in for easier access to more sugary confectionery and pear schnapps. A whiff of florist.

Nosing the near-dry glass - there’s smoke! What? A subtle but definite puff of woodsmoke.

Palate

Ooh! Heat on arrival. I forget, despite this being a core range release, it’s served up at a potent and generous 53.4% ABV.

Neat brings green chilli to the lemon zest with green apples, creamy sugar syrup and light vanilla, cloudy apple cider and cracked pepper. I add a few drops of water and things settle immediately. A few more - we’re now in ‘skoosh’ territory - and everything’s easier still. The lemon turns to sweet lemon sherbert, the apples sweeten to apple sauce, the chilli dissipates, a creaminess is apparent, things are softer, of the spice only a powdery white pepper remains. It retains an oily silkiness and fades to a long, spiced and drying finish. 

It’s moreish and leaves a ‘crispness’ to the palate that encourages a wee walk back to pour another. I remind myself this is less than six years old, and I’m immediately excited about watching it grow.

It’s been a while since I experienced something where adding a drop of water calms things to a soothing warmth so quickly. It’s like a grumpy toddler you’ve just distracted with ice cream. Have a teaspoon and some water on hand for this to unlock the best of it. To the point, I wonder if it might’ve been better at 46 or 48% ABV? And a nudge cheaper? Anyway, I’m no expert, they know what they’re doing. But I know from experiences with Kilchoman’s Machir Bay, Glasgow’s 1770 and many other releases of core range products from young distilleries with young spirit; things get better with time, and Wire Works are already offering a cracker with the first salvo of the most exposed, raw take on their base spirit.

The Dregs

For me, with Wire Works, it’s no longer try-before-you-buy, I dive in on trust and enthusiasm alone. I was beside myself with excitement at the news of this Bourbon Barrel dropping in July. But I had to wait until after a holiday, and a wee break from whisky, before I could settle down to try it. It joined a long queue of tasty and attractive stuff, but its creamy apple orchard and vanilla spice cut through everything. By the third dram I was face-painting myself with a St George’s cross and hopping on ebay for a maypole. 

In some ways they’re similar to new Scottish malts, in that they’ve done really great things to make delicious whisky at a young age. Those that mask youth remarkably well, while amplifying drinkability; think Ardnahoe, Ardnamurchan, Lagg and more. But they’re not scotch, they’re English and, certainly in this Wire Works, there’s individual identity and personality. They seem to already have a lovely, vibrant house style, while their aesthetic embraces their industrial locality in a very attractive way - Derbyshire is the birthplace of the global industrial revolution, don'tcha know ? It’s also worth pointing out that their prices have dropped a little in recent times, with increased economies of scale, that needs to continue.

So English whisky is a thing. Without coincidence it’s the seat, today, of one of the world’s largest and most enthused whisky-loving communities too. It is here, hopefully, to stay. It’s no longer the butt of sneers and jokes, it came from nowhere, and now it’s everywhere, it’s being taken seriously and exemplified perfectly by this excellent glimpse of what lies ahead. 

I feel like we’re all like-minded followers of the ever-meandering amber trail and, like everything in life, we’d do well to try to understand the new things and adapt to all the positives they bring.

Score: 7/10

*Their Up’Ard would score a Dramface 9/10, astonishingly intense, beautiful whisky

Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. WMc

Other opinions on this:

Whiskybase

Whisky for Everyone (video)

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