y k s i h Wbusiness Both sublime and ridiculous, whisky, its rich history, and its cashed-up connoisseurs deserve your full attention. Tim Warrington took a dram or two for this report. When next you shop at Harrods Department Store, continue past the Château Latour 1982, take a hard right at the Jeroboam of Krug Grande Cuvée and you’ll find one of London’s great sites: The Dalmore Paterson Collection. Unlike the palace that Buckingham built, Nelson’s Column or that arch of marble, this landmark is for sale – if you’ve got a spare £987,500. It’s whisky, you see – twelve 700ml crystal decanters of brown wetness. Curious what kind of thirsty patron would pay nigh on a million pounds for a dozen bottles of whisky? Perhaps the same person who shelled out $94,000 for one bottle of 1955 Glenfiddich Janet Sheed Roberts Reserve in 2011, or $460,000 for a 64-year-old Macallan in 2010. Granted, the latter did come in a one-of-akind Lalique cire perdue decanter. It gets worse – or better – depending on your views on luxuriant alcohol excesses. It’s generally accepted that the most decadent (and expensive) whisky in the world is Isabella’s Islay. It’ll set you back $US6.2 million per bottle. “To discuss an order, kindly contact us,” quoth the distillery’s website. I did. They were not available for comment. Neither did they 84 DNA
respond to my request to try before buying – maybe because it’s about a quarter of a mill for a shot. True, the decanter is made of white gold, diamonds, rubies and the finest hand-cut crystal but if we’re spade calling, the bottle is kinda eighties-ugly; the type of beverage that should be consumed while wearing parachute pants or
Some whiskies...
taste like burnt arse.
anything with shoulder pads. So, why not save the six mill and buy yourself a small island… or subscribe to DNA for the next 62,000 years? Journalism is thirsty work – poring over dusty, dry volumes and LED-backlit glossy wide screens, so I thought why not quench my thirst for knowledge and whisky by writing about whisky and drinking some (lots)? According to Business Insider Australia,
“Some whiskeys contain chemicals that only some people are genetically capable of tasting. If you can taste it, they taste like burnt arse.” Armed with this knowledge, I started with some trepidation toward my local wine and spirit merchant, cautiously curious about the elixir of smouldering bum. First of all, what’s the difference between single malt and blended whisky? To avoid getting bogged down in tedious nomenclature, we’ll approach this informally as there are reams of legal guidelines governing whisky content and naming conventions. A malt whisky contains only barley – no other grains. Grain whisky contains grains such as corn, wheat or rye (proudly brought to you by Jim Beam, Jack Daniels, et al). It may also contain barley. A blended whisky is a mixture of grain whisky (about 40 per cent) and malt whisky (about 60 per cent). Vatted malt whisky is a blend of different malt whiskys from more than one distillery. Monkey Shoulder is a sublime example of a vatted malt whisky (a mix of Glenfiddich, Balvenie and Kininvie). The crème de la crème is a single cask single malt: one distillery, one barrel.