Learning about myself through Whisky

I’ve not been shy about not having a particularly fine or even trained palate. It’s a skill and one I have not dedicated myself to training. Which I am fine with - this is a place for enjoyment, not recommendations. I’m an enthusiast of the drink, not an expert, and I don’t have the time and energy to change that. I don’t have enough of any basis to say what anyone should drink that discussing my preferences or whisky tasting experiences is meaningful.

But, after a very interesting day over the past weekend, I will now be a lot more open to certain things - specifically peat. This experience was more than a whisky journey - it turned out to teach me things about myself and allow me a great pause for self-reflection.

History

Rewinding a bit, I have not had the best experience with Islay whiskies. On trips back home to my childhood home there tends to be the occasional try of various spirits, out of which one is a highly regarded expression of Bowmore I’ve never had a tongue for. Neither does anyone else in the family to be honest, but I chalked it up to there being something I was not genetically predisposed to appreciate about Islay. Or, well, peated whiskies but you get the point. We generally share several disparaging views of this whisky, often competing to one-up each other, but I think “like running out of tumblers to drink out of and then resorting to pouring whisky into an unwashed ashtray” will stay with me for the longest of those views.

This got even further solidified too many years back after visiting a friend who is probably the biggest whisky enthusiast I have ever met - including bartenders, distributors and other connoisseurs. We are talking someone who had 50 bottles of Islay blendeds - that he blended himself from single malts with many of them plenty expensive. This was only a small portion of his collection, of which we are talking in the mid-hundreds of bottles. We were sitting down to enjoy something more “mild and mellow” to take us down after a very pleasant night out on the bar scene that had gotten a bit aggressive on the liquor side, at which point I had worked up the courage to attempt an Islay again. To the point that I can rely on my memory, I think this was a mixture of an Ardbeg and a Bruichlaiddich (I guess this was the milder part…), but we are talking about a time when I was drunk enough that I felt comfortable trying an Islay in my early 20’s. At which point the most aggressive thing I’d ever really enjoyed was a Singleton 15… yeah, the narrator is unreliable in this case. Nevertheless, I tried the whisky in high hopes. Show of good faith. Result: Immediate regret. Verbal admitting that this was different than anything I’d ever drank before but trying really hard to save face for that friend, and kept chipping away at that dram. Added the newbie mistake of trying to dilute it with a bit of water rather than the side cup. Rough night and a very sobering experience in more ways than one.

Change

Now, with all that out of the way, since starting Shinzui I thought I should at least try to dip my toe in actually tasting the whisky (that being slightly different from whisky tasting, mind you) and broadening my horizons. With Islay being first on the list. What better day for this than one with a brunch heavy on the smoked stuff - salmon, bacon, etc. The only Islay on hand was a modest Laphroaig expression in the “Select Cask” but you gotta start somewhere, right? I was fully ready to pour this one out or leave it on the table if it would have came to that. But I was blown away. After having tried to sip different whiskies over the last few weeks and struggling to pick up notes, this starter expression had a higher-intensity flavour profile with clear early-, mid-, and finishing palate notes than I’ve ever felt anywhere else. It didn’t feel complex, but like taking a painting class where the task was to paint by numbers. With thick lines and grooves to make it even more difficult to go wrong. Light and fruity with an almost floral or grassy touch, then warm mellow light smoke like smoldering autumn leaves but a lot of them, then a citrus-flavour carrying the alcohol. I was ecstatic, excited, shocked, and disappointed in myself all at once. All while enjoying a whisky 30 minutes after waking up, and not feeling the earlier mentioned emotions for that particular reason.

Carrying on the day I later found my way to a Lagavulin 16. More muted but with a closer flavour profile of earthy, leathery and nutty notes which I found a lot more sophisticated, but a lot less shocking and eye-opening. Similarly I then tried a standard bar curiosity Japanese whisky in an entry-level Yoichi and found it still had a bit of peat to add to the table, together with pear and vanilla notes (it actually reminded me of a type of Swedish pear ice pop with a vanilla ice centre, if I would have been eating it next to a campfire). And I never thought this would have been possible for me.

Then later in the evening me and some friends shared spirits for sipping, with me bringing an Ardmore to the table (more on that in a special post) and another friend having a good Bowmore expression sitting around. I think the Ardmore which I started with was the best drink I had enjoyed up until that point, but that was rather unfair as it was a cask strength expression. Would I go full circle on the Bowmore? Would I be mature enough to finally have developed a palate that appreciate this? I mean, over the last two years I have learned to enjoy sparkling water, so then anything must be possible.

Perspective

And then it clicked. The circle closed. I found an understanding of the Bowmore. The reason I don’t like it is the ashy note which is their hallmark. And I still maintain that I have a hard time with ash. Not better, not worse, but after having fallen in love with the Laphroaig I could see the difference in Islay expressions and appreciate my own preferences, hence fully taking away the excuse for myself to just default to “it’s an acquired taste, I’m unlearned, and I’m not going to try”. It contextualized that blend all those years back in Taiwan as it was an ashy blend as well. Fully natural given that my friend had that preference and likely didn’t think I might pick up on the note, and me not understanding the difference between smoky, peaty, and ashy and being able to call that out to guide him to something I might have enjoyed back then.

Opening the bottle of Ardmore and trying it out with a few drops of water, I almost felt like the whisky was wasted on me drinking it (meaning it could have been held on to as an investment or gift for someone else to enjoy). The Bowmore changed that and showed that I had valid preferences in Islay whiskies and now don’t need to fear them either from a taste perspective or a prestige perspective, as long as I keep my own, more defined preferences in mind. I’ll owe that Ardmore a few sips some other night and it will be my go-to comfort drink from here on out!

End Notes

The experience of trying something like this out and learning as much as I did on Saturday was incredible, and exactly the kind of experience that I am thrilled to have a blog for. Both for forcing me to stretch and try different things, but also learning things about myself from two perspectives - what my preferences are and how I can use those together with my pre-existing knowledge to gain new and interesting experiences. It’s a structured exploration and a great experience, that adds to my personal development beyond just whisky, but in everything important in life.