5 minute read
The little enGINe that could
BY DENISE FLINT
Peter Wilkins didn’t expect it to be so much work. The internationally renowned artist was living in the small outport of Clarke’s Beach on Newfoundland and Labrador’s Avalon Peninsula when his friend William Carter, a Cordon Bleu chef based in Ottawa, broached the idea of starting a distillery together. Wilkins could easily envision himself, gin and tonic in hand, sitting beside a vat of booze and watching it turn into something drinkable. He was in.
Unfortunately, it didn’t quite turn out that way; and Wilkins discovered that starting and running a successful distillery is a lot a work—especially in Newfoundland where it’s never been done before. That’s not to say he regrets his decision. When talking about the products the Newfoundland Distillery Company has produced since its 2016 start, Wilkins waxes both eloquent and enthusiastic. But he does laugh at his naïve vision of just sitting back and letting it all happen around him.
Newfoundlanders have always had a taste for rum. One out of every two bottles of liquor purchased at the NLC (Newfoundland Liquor Commission) is rum. What they haven’t had is a way to produce their own, given that the climate of the North Atlantic isn’t exactly conducive to sugar cane cultivation. Wilkins and Carter originally considered the idea of importing the raw ingredients and distilling rum but were dissuaded by a number of advisors. They decided to import the rum and then add their own twist. One of the results is gun powder and rose rum, which is exactly as exotic and over the top as it sounds.
Wilkins enjoys telling the tale of how such an unusual combination of flavours came into existence. Back in the days when Britannia ruled the waves, sailors were given a tot of rum as part of their rations. Occasionally a suspicion would arise that the purser was watering the rum down, which didn’t go down well with men who had very little else to look forward to during the course of the day but their ration. The purser, therefore, would sometimes sprinkle gunpowder on the surface of the rum and set it on fire as proof of its strength, hence the term. Thus arose the idea of flavouring their rum with gunpowder, a substance whose “Ingredients are healthy, but not allowed,” to Wilkins’ obvious disappointment. Instead, they substitute sea salt, charred birch and kelp, all locally sourced, which imparts a similar flavour. The sulphuric taste is softened by the addition of wild roses. The story goes that the notorious pirate, Captain Blackbeard, used to drink gunpowderlaced rum, still smoking, when boarding a captured ship in order to terrify the embattled sailors. Chances seem good that he wouldn’t approve the modern take on his favourite tipple, but it’s probably safe to say that most people these days are quite happy with imitation explosives.
For those less inclined to drama, their chaga rum, made with local honey and a kind of mushroom found in central Newfoundland, has won numerous awards, including best Canadian spiced rum at the world rum awards.
But adding botanicals isn’t distilling. The pair still wanted to make their own liquor from scratch, and they wanted to do it using local ingredients. Although sugar
Clarke’s Beach is home to the Newfoundland Distillery Company, whose award-winning new products are turning heads and winning fans (and awards).
cane won’t grow in Newfoundland, barley can be persuaded to do so. When the partners discovered it was being grown on an experimental level on the west coast of the island they committed to purchasing the entire crop to make gin. The distilling part of the distillery was on its way. Gin is traditionally flavoured with juniper berries; in fact in most countries it’s legally required to contain juniper berries, and the gin produced in the massive steel containers in Clarke’s Beach is no exception. But after that the sky (or the ground or the water) is the limit and this is where Carter’s experimentation with adding unusual botanicals puts a unique Newfoundland stamp on the product. The result is cloudberry (aka bakeapples, to Newfoundlanders) gin and seaweed gin.
Upping their distilling game, The Newfoundland Distillery Company also produces vodka (which comes in rhubarb flavour) and aquavit, a kind of light whisky-type drink popular in northern Europe, and a range of bitters with such flavours as seaweed and nettle or chaga and chanterelle. Last year when supplies dried up, they even produced hand sanitizer for the local market.
Although visitors are not allowed to tour the distillery itself since it’s always in use, glass walls allow the public a glimpse of what lies inside. And being on the outside of the glass is no hardship for the casual viewer. The Newfoundland Distillery Co. literally sits on the pebbled shore of Clarke’s Beach overlooking the scenic Bay de Grave. Sitting at a picnic table on a summer’s day one can watch the alcohol being made on one side and then, with a slight turn of the head, savour the sight of the ocean lapping at one’s feet on the other.
On less balmy days—and this is Newfoundland after all, so the possibility always exists—a large lounge filled with antique tables and chairs (and an enormous bar) also boasts panoramic views. Visitors can order a sampling of the alcohols available as well as one of many cocktails (the Cloudberry Orangesicle, made with cloudberry gin, is well worth the trip to Clarke’s Beach on its own—just saying). Not content with simply sourcing their ingredients locally, Wilkins and Carter have tapped into the local food supply chain. A selection of artisan cheese, bread and meats from the surrounding area can be ordered to help balance out the alcohol.
Now the pair has started work on a native Newfoundland whisky, something no one in Newfoundland has done before. It takes three years for a liquor to be considered whisky—longer for it to age to any degree. They’re now eight months into the process as the liquid sits in individual casks slowly turning into something drinkable.
Wilkins doesn’t mind. Gin and tonic in hand, he’s willing to keep his eye on the process—for however long it takes.
