Chasing Leprechauns
A different pot of gold
Looking across the water
We’re all too guilty of chasing mythical creatures in whisky nowadays. From unicorns to your Black Bowmores, these mystical creations are rarely seen and seldom experienced. As much as I’ve been exploring the overlooked and underappreciated – I almost said “undervalued”, but auctions prove otherwise – Invernessian distilleries, I’ve also been looking west. Not across the Atlantic, where the overhyped and overpriced bourbons are increasingly fought over, but just across the channel to Ireland and its almost-lost heritage of pot still whiskey.
Irish whiskey is certainly booming and back on track with a high elevation. Much of this popularity is based on an inoffensive and easily appreciated style of whiskey – partially assisted by the triple distilling ethic. This delivers easy drinking and finds favour and flavour in most quarters. Yet if you speak to the Irish whiskey geeks and traditionalists, they are bubbling with excitement when it comes to the revival of the pot-still distillate. I won’t delve into this from a technical standpoint, and I understand there is much to be discussed around some of the Irish whiskey definitions going forward. I’d suggest you check out some of our Irish whiskey articles for more on that.
New distilleries across Ireland are reviving a style of whiskey that was almost wiped out as the Irish sector went into decline. I’ve been fortunate over the years to have tried some exceptional Irish whiskies including well-matured fruit bombs that offer a different avenue to and more hope than the more mainstream style you’re accustomed to. But it’s the pot stills that linger in my memory, such as the Cadenhead’s Bow Street (John Jameson) Distillery bottling, distilled in 1963 and bottled in 1991 at a mind-boggling 68.1% ABV. Words fail me around this whiskey, with its rich assortment of spice waxiness and a density that goes beyond some more modern styles of pot still whiskies. With such experiences, you don’t need to chase the dragon or Nessie – instead, you end up chasing leprechauns.
We’re all students of whisky (or whiskey, depending on your preference). Part of the enjoyment is learning and tasting, building up our knowledge and appreciation. That’s what I’ve wanted to do outside of Scotch and my comfort zone. So when I had the opportunity to co-host a pre-1970s Irish whiskey tasting as part of the Belfast Whiskey Week festival with none other than Fionnán O’Connor, I leapt at the opportunity. Fionnán is as down to earth as they come but combines his knowledge of Irish whiskey with a joyful sense of enthusiasm. I’d recommend picking up his definitive book A Glass Apart: Irish Pot Still Whiskey (2015).
So the tasting was great, and I could have spent longer quizzing Fionnán on these whiskies. As a co-host, as much as you want to kick back and really enjoy what you’re experiencing, you have to be aware of the ‘show’ and keeping things on track and informative. You don’t want things descending into a Jackie Weaver-esque online circus – especially when attendees have paid good money. Professional is probably another word for it. The show went well, but I was left aching for more knowledge and experience. I put aside most of my samples for another day. It was only recently, when top bloke Phil announced one of his Irish whiskey tastings, that my memory was jogged as to what I had stashed away.
I had four drams left from the original tasting line-up, and they arguably include the three whiskies that were of interest to most. The oddity of the foursome was up first, in the form of a Whites 22 Special Liqueur dating from the 1960s and bottled at 70 proof. The name Whites comes from Hugh White & Co – Hugh White established the trademark in 1787 – as Paul Kane of the Belfast Whiskey Club explains:
“Whites Tavern was originally known as Hugh White & Co from 1868 - and does right to ignore the fact that “Whites” had been trading for 70 years prior to this. The Tavern had been established 200 years previously and had been bought and sold among various Wine and Spirit Merchants for its wine cellars and many rooms spanning 4 levels.
Hugh White & Co were Wine and Spirit Merchants and although Hugh White died in 1882 the name was still used until the late 1960s. The current Hugh White & Co registered trademark was applied for in 1886 - and was owned by Irish Bonding Company Limited, latterly a subsidiary of Guinness and now Diageo. Originally Whites Whiskey was famed for being “Guaranteed 22 years old” and full of Old Irish Whiskey! The origin of this whiskey was more than likely from Jameson... The Whites 22 whiskey that immediately came to an end pre-1970 was from Jameson.”
Score: 7/10
Very Good Indeed.
Scores higher than a 22 that’s for sure
Nose
Very creamy toffee, old worn fabric and black spices. It is extremely well balanced and inoffensive. Almonds, some pine notes. Viscous. Sawdust, honey and a sense of old-world age and cold stone. Honeyed nuts, Brasso and a wet rag. Lightly smoked ham, fresh toast and tinned syrup. Time in the glass reveals a light floral note towards the end and mushrooms. It becomes fruitier as well.
Palate
That old age and dust aspect once again. A light wood influence followed by brown sauce, which means spices and caramel. It is very well-rounded and approachable. Quaffable indeed. Nutty, black peppercorns and stewed apples.
Score: 7/10
Very Good Indeed.
Subtle and stylish
That was a fine opener, just what you need before moving into some of the big guns from the tasting. We’ve already covered several of the Spots and their rainbow of colours (check out the Irish whiskey link above), including the modern revival of Green Spot. This version dates from the 1950s and Mitchell’s, meaning it was distilled at the Bow Street Jameson distillery. Rather than regurgitate material from A Glass Apart, I’ll just refer you to the excellent couple of pages in the book on Mitchell & Son and how the Green Spot was the last bottle standing when it came to pot-still whiskey. So, quite a treat on paper – now let’s see how it shapes up after all these years.
Nose
Immediately oily: viscosity is amplified. An old engine oil rag, orange oil and banana. Beeswax, splinter wood, wholemeal and chocolate. Some blackcurrant and old nutmeg.
Palate
A dusty old carpet after a shakedown. Not as oily as the nose suggested, nor as dense, with the bottling strength holding things back. Caramel, green tea and tarragon. Hickory wood, syrup and honey. Nuttiness present and some bitterness from the wood.
Score: 8/10
Something Special.
A name that carries weight in any era
Now for a name that needs no introduction. For many, it represents the pinnacle of the modern pot style and at times comes with a price tag to match. My own experiences with Redbreast have been good to excellent. The well-aged releases are way beyond my financial appetite and the cask strength young bottling is much more of a sweet spot.
Nose
Bruised red apples, a sprinkling of raspberries and the rubbings from a used eraser. Honeycomb, blackcurrant, juniper berries. There’s an initial minty freshness mixed in with the citrus and time reveals a pleasant coconut residue.
Palate
Very subtle with nothing too pronounced. Quite woody in parts with dark chocolate and toffee holding things in order. Light brown sugar, black peppercorns and sooty on the finish. Vanilla, candle wax and well-worn table varnish add some variety and linger. This feels more relaxed and assured than the modern Redbreast.
Score: 7/10
Very Good Indeed.
A dram that doesn’t come along too often
For our last whiskey, we’re heading to Belfast and the Royal Irish Distillery, which is where Dunville’s produced their spirit. Note that this whisky is missing the ‘e’ and features the “liqueur” that was also utilised for Scotch during this era.
Nose
Very vibrant with waxy oranges, soft peppermint, coconut and a dusty carpet. Chocolate caramel, green peppercorn, spent tobacco and some fruitiness coming through now. Blackcurrants, camomile tea, well worn oak and green tea.
Palate
Harmony: vanilla, creamy and oily. Used tea leaves, a hint of tobacco. It feels slightly underpowered. A little smoky residue that acts as seasoning. Toasted pine nuts, redberries, soft apples – you really have to listen.
Last Dregs
I really enjoyed the opener of the Whites, which had a real quaffable style to it. An elegant nose with an appealing palate that would melt the most hardened Scotch enthusiasts. The Redbreast took it up a notch with a degree of elegance and subtle flair, but there was something delightful about the Green Spot in places – very distinctive, relaxed and yet seductive.
What connects these whiskies is a particular style that immediately suggests it isn’t Scotch. That might be hard to ascertain from the tasting notes, but on the nose and palate, the parade and organisation are immediately very distinct. Reflecting for a moment, if I may: the Dunville’s is the more Scotch-aligned and offers the same rich tapestry and confident, subtle nature that many old blends also showcase. But it still had that x-factor or unknown quantity.
All these whiskeys have a different dynamic, and the lower proof that guarantees a more accessible experience. For all their ages and voyages, they’ve all held up remarkably well. And as far as leprechauns go, these ones are well worth chasing to the pot at the end of the rainbow.
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White’s image kindly provided by Irish Whiskey Auctions. Green Spot 10yo thanks to Whisky.auction and the Redbreast from Whisky Auctioneer.
