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]]>Now mostly we’re known for pointing out at length the many shortcomings of the 2014 Irish Whiskey Technical File, particularly when it comes to defining pot still Irish whisky. So I thought, when it came to a single barrel release, let’s play nice and start with something totally uncontroversial; a single malt. After all this time last year we released a four pack of historic pot still whiskies that we couldn’t call historic pot still whiskies*, so this would be a nice change… I mean it’s 100% malted barley, how could we upset anyone!
Therefore say hello to ‘Peat the Magic Dragon‘ (PMD for short) the first Blackwater Irish whisky single barrel release.
Now that may seem like a pretty simple sentence, but there’s a suitcase full of stories to unpack here. After the pot still stuff, I should have known we were wading into a swamp of self interest.
Let’s back up and start with the concept.
We decided to make a single malt, we don’t distil much of that and it’s tasty. Secondly, let’s make a turf-smoked single malt, something Ireland isn’t known for. Notice I say turf smoked not peated. Why? Most peated Irish whiskies are made with English or Scottish peated malt. Nothing wrong with that, but it’s from some of the same malt houses that feed Scottish stills. So if we’re not using Scottish malt, let’s not use terms associated with Scottish whisky.
This bottling of PMD (as far as I know) is the only Irish whisky in existence made with 100% Irish grain and 100% Irish peat and also malted in Ireland. The barley and the turf come from the same farm, and the grain was malted on-site at the farm. So this is a single barrel/single cask, single farm/single estate blah, blah, blah… without even trying we were falling down the rabbit hole.
You see terms like single estate, or even single barrel do not have any legal standing. Things can mean whatever you want them to mean, and even legally defined stuff can be seen through the cracked mirror of alternative facts. Curiouser and curiouser.
Let’s start with the stuff of marketing departments’ wet dreams: undefined terms.
You would think that the term single cask/single barrel would be self-evident. Think again. As things currently stand, this term is meaningless. I could fill a barrel with new make, leave it for three years and sell it as single-cask Irish whiskey. Or if I was pressed for time, I could empty the whiskey dregs from every tank in the building into say a port pipe, because they are nice and large and I am very greedy. I could then leave that whiskey in the port cask just long enough to turn on the bottling line and hey presto, I have 600 litres of ‘single cask’ Irish whiskey.
For the avoidance of doubt, this PMD if fully matured in a French oak, ex-cherry liqueur cask.
So defining something in law levels the playing pitch, everyone then plays by the same rules… except in Ireland.
You see this whisky was designed by our Head Distiller John Wilcox and he wanted PMD to be matured in ‘brandy’ casks. I used inverted commas here as I didn’t want to upset any of my French friends. This is the Brandy Church of ‘merica, so it’s a broad one. We’re talking apple brandy, fruit liqueurs as well as more traditional grape-based spirits. I knew the broad outlines of the project, but not the details. This is important because of what happened next.
On 9th January 2019, our PMD was put into a French oak barrel which had previously held cherry liqueur. I know the 1980 Irish Whiskey Act and as I said at the start, I sure know the paperwork associated with the 2014 Irish Whiskey G.I. so I didn’t foresee any issues. Fast forward to 2022 and I might as well have been Alice sitting down with the Mad Hatter and muttering to myself, ‘it would be so nice if something made sense for a change.’
So next time, let’s do a thought exercise on that legally defined stuff and what might happen if a multi-national was shit scared of what the little guys were up to?
Let’s call part 2 ‘The Curious Case of the Cherry Liqueur Cask’.
* Our Dirtgrain Manifesto release just won ‘Irish Whiskey Brand Innovation of the Year’ at the Icons of Whiskey Ireland 2024. To celebrate are now releasing some of the boxes we held back.
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]]>Where to begin with Irish Poitín?
For a start it’s where we began, this bottle was the first spirit we ever distilled. Cloudy from a couple of months in a sherried quarter cask, full of chocolate malt and rye it was epic stuff.
A few years later, we went again, this time bringing a Poitín into ALDI – Dolmen was a less complex spirit but very good mixed, and you can read about that here.
After that we focused on laying down whisky, and for several years kept our heads down. Then last year we collaborated with Killowen to produce this beauty:
And there are still a few bottles out there in the wild.
So by this time last year we were good to go with a stand alone Blackwater offering, we even brought a prototype with us to the first Poitin Now. But for us the stars were not aligning. We had plenty of good liquid, but really had no idea of how to bring something fresh and interesting to the market. So we hit pause, drank a lot of coffee and thought deep thoughts. Then about six months ago Head Distiller John had a bit of a brainfart.
Waterford is a long narrow strip of land but manages to pack a lot into that bit between the Comeragh mountains and the Copper Coast. So, went his reasoning, what if we produced a series of Irish Poitín that reflected that geographical diversity? We could tie the branding in with our soon to be released Blackwater whisky, so it all made sense.
So our first offering is Malt na Mara, an ocean malted Irish Poitín complete with a whiff of Comeragh peat smoke.
WFT is Ocean malted?
At the start of the malting process, raw barley is put into tanks filled with warm water where it remains for 2–3 days. As the barley soaks up the water, it fluffs up, so the source of water is very important any minerals or chemical properties in the water will ultimately help to define spirit. John’s idea was capture the scent of the ocean by introducing seaweed into the process. We worked with Marie Power aka the Sea Gardener to source Dillisk, Kelp and Carrageen and dragged bags of it to the malt house. The dried seaweed was soaked in the warm water until it leached its colour and flavour, then we introduced the barley and started to malting process.
We knew that one of two things would happen, either the barley would soak up saline marine minerals, or salt would kill everything… We had never done this before, and as far as John knew, neither had anyone else. So we just crossed our fingers and after several stressful days, we successfully gathered 250 kg of rather peculiar malt. It was crunchy, it was tasty and it smelt of the ocean. So far so good…
Our lauter tun is 500kg, so this is how the entire mash bill broke down.
50% Mac na Mara malt
30% Raw Barley
10% Performer Rye
5% Malted Peated Oats
5% Husky Oats
We know that certain elements don’t distil, sugar, gluten and salt for example are too heavy to come across in the distillation run. So we weren’t expecting a salty spirit. But other elements like peat smoke do distil quite nicely – so what the end result would be was anyone’s guess.
What did we end up with? To my mind there is a certain mineral quality to the spirit, the sort of metalic bite you get from Nori. A sea note to nicely balance the turf smoke. Others don’t get any ocean notes… it’s an elusive sea breeze, but not in a way that would upset Cosmo Kramer.
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]]>A Dó, from the Irish for 'two' is a collaboration between two distilleries, Blackwater in Co Waterford and Killowen in Co Down. Two distinct styles married in one spirit. Although both distilleries operate in separate jurisdictions, Blackwater in the Republic and Killowen in Northern Ireland, the rules governing poteen are all-island. A Dó is literally the distilled spirit of cooperation and friendship. It's also the celebration of poteen, a category that after years in the wilderness is finally finding its feet.
So how does the collaboration work?
John at Blackwater Distillery
Barley is the spine of the drink, so Blackwater sourced some very special barley for this poteen, a landrace 'variety' from the 19th century or even earlier. Landrace in this case refers to a grain cultivated by farmers over the generations. So nobody owns it, and everybody owns it. Landrace varieties have a very broad genetic base, virtually guaranteed to yield some crop, but what crops will vary from year to year. Over time as the farmer saves and sows, the barley adapts to the locality. This is the oldest Irish barley we know of, it is a unique reservoir of genetic information accumulated over centuries of cultivation. During the twentieth century, most of these landrace varieties were replaced by grains developed by private companies. These seeds often hybrids, tended to be better suited to modern agriculture, so were heavier croppers, easier to harvest, or would be disease resistant. This is not mono-cropping, but genetic diversity was lost. The handful of Old Irish grain that existed was kept viable in the genetic seed bank and under guidance from the Irish Department of Agriculture, it was bulked out initially for brewers, but soon we got to hear of it. We work with farmer Garrett Heaton who has grown and malted this barley for us, the unmalted version of Old Irish is used in this poteen.
When the barley arrived at the distillery our Head Distiller John Wilcox actually laughed. Old Irish doesn't look like a modern barley because it's not, it looks a bit like a cross between some hirsute grass and a load of hedge clippings. However when ground and lautered the scent was both familiar and different. Greener, grassier and somehow wilder, this barley was almost gamey. It married wonderfully with the oats from Killowen which were huge plump grains.
Brendan at Killowen Distillery
The oats we both used were grown overlooking Carlingford Lough which is a glacial fjord, so a landscape with clay soil and plenty of marine influence. Brendan from Killowen is a bit of an oat nut, as is our John, they are indeed partners in porridge. All the oats were malted by Brendan on-site in Killowen in his famous 'turf shed'. Brendan then sent oats and some peated malt south, while we sent our heritage barley north. Both distilleries then produced a poteen using the same mash bill. Both spirits were vatted and brought to bottling strength, with both distilleries bottling half the distillate.
The branding was designed to mirror the collaboration, with colours reversed; Blackwater having the orange wax, and Killowen the green.
This is a once-off, strictly limited production. Both companies only have a couple of hundred bottles, so first come first served.
The Killowen edition can be bought directly from Killowen on Irish Malts
The Blackwater edition can be bought directly from Blackwater
And a handful of retailers have both editions...
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]]>Whisky Republic from Blackwater Distillery isn’t just about whisky, it’s brings you information and opinion on the world of spirits. If you can distill it, we’ll talk about it.
So you want to buy a cask of whisk(e)y! Then ask yourself why. Is it to make money, or is it to have fun? If it’s the former, whisky writer Ian Buxton asks if you have you really thought it through? If it’s the latter then Serghios Florides editor of Irish Whiskey Magazine, might be able to help.
English whisky is coming of age and many producers want a G.I. to reflect that. In this episode we talk to Stephen Russell, co-founder of Kent’s Copper Rivet Distillery and head distiller Abhi Banik, on why the future of English whisky may depend on getting that G.I. across the line.
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]]>The post Towards a Grand Cru for Irish Whiskey appeared first on Blackwater Distillery.
]]>I admit it. ‘Grand Cru’ is a pretty shit name for anything Irish. But it gets the idea of a ‘superior grade’ across in a couple of words, so it will do for now.
Why you may ask do we need a superior grade of Irish whiskey? A fair question, so let me explain.
The Irish Whiskey Technical File was largely a crystallisation of what the industry looked like in 2014. So not surprisingly it is built to fit the needs and the business model of the distilleries and the brands operating at the time. Since then the industry has stratified somewhat, we have more multinational players than ever, but now also a growing body of indigenous producers. And that’s where the friction is being felt, where the two worlds rub uncomfortably off each other. Premier League rules don’t work when it’s five a side.
Just look at how things have changed in just ten years.
In the short term, there is no getting around the current Technical File, it’s there to preserve the status quo: to ensure the level playing pitch is more level for some than others. Laws aren’t about right or wrong, they are about power, who has it and what they want to control. In this case, the Technical File is used to shape the industry into one based on the needs of the large producers who wrote the rules. This is less consumer-facing legislation and more industrial protectionism.
For example: two bottles on a shelf. One €25 one €65, both Irish Whiskey. What (besides the price) is the difference? Well, one is more expensive because… see… when you are explaining you are losing. With their economies of scale, this model works for the multi-nationals (which is why we are where we are) but doesn’t work for the small indigenous player.
So how can we skew the pitch to favour the consumer and the small producer? Well, that’s where a Gold Standard might come in. We’d need a simple identifier that says one product is ‘superior’ and therefore worth that extra €40. Remember any solutions we come up with have to sit comfortably on top of the 2014 file, and the Irish Whiskey Act 1980. In other words, minimum standards are set in law, but excellence is a choice.
So what would an Irish Whiskey Grand Cru look like? Let’s break it down.
What follows are questions, not statements. The idea here isn’t to replace one enforced rule book, with another. It’s about starting a debate.
Most small producers already use Irish grain, while too many large players just pay lip service on the guided tour. Using Irish grain makes sense for any Gold Standard and should give small producers an advantage over those who use cheaper imported grain. The Irish-grown barley we’ve used tastes quite different from that I have tasted in Scotland, and Waterford Distillery have done a huge amount to prove the importance of terroir in whiskey.
On a more holistic note, when we started Blackwater Distillery it was virtually impossible to get Irish-grown rye, so we imported it. Now it’s grown for us and thanks to demand Irish rye is a thing, and back to terroir, it’s quite different from the imported stuff.
Until recently the malting industry in Ireland reflected the distilling industry it supplied, so we had just a couple of very large (and very good) maltsters. But no one handled loads of less than 60 tonnes, and no one dried with peat. Now that landscape is changing, with at least three smaller malsters on the island, and a couple of distilleries experimenting with floor malting. Again if we want to demonstrate added value to the end consumer, this is an obvious way of doing that.
There has to be an upside to spending shit tonnes of money on building a distillery, so do we give a break to those who put their wallets on the line? Or does it matter who owns the brand? Is all the other stuff more important?
This is a curious one. When making Irish whiskey, currently you can push your distillate as high as 94.5% (pure ethanol comes at around 96%), in other words, it doesn’t taste of much (despite what the Technical File says), it’s just a way of producing industrial quantities of whiskey, where efficiencies is more important than taste. But since small producers are all about taste, and we don’t have or use continuous stills, is there an argument for a maximum of distillate in the mid-80% abv?
Currently, most maturation happens in just a handful of warehouses across the country. This is unfortunate, but partly it’s due to the difficulty of setting up maturation warehouses in Ireland.
Personally, this is something we might aspire to, but until we get more insurers and bonders into the Irish market, on-site maturation will be too impractical for most small operators.
I know many in Scotland who wished Single Malts were only bottled in Scotland. Firstly it would give the Scots total control over the end product (which is the consumer experience) and secondly, it would create jobs; together they would increase perceived value. Yes, it would add to costs, but as this category is both small and margin-rich, many feel the upsides outweigh the risks.
Most ‘craft’ producers don’t chill filter, mostly because they don’t have the technology. To get away with potential ‘haze floc’ at low temperatures that can mean bottling at 46% or above, which adds costs. Usually filtering to one micron will remove most of the problem and the purchaser of these products would be a more educated consumer, so this may not even be an issue. Which brings us to…
As these whiskies are never going to be entry-level brands, is there an argument for a higher bottling strength? The legal minimum for whiskey is 40% abv, so what about a Grand Cru minimum of 43% or 46%? This would also help with the issue of chill-filtration.
If there’s one thing to generate heat in any debate it’s usually this; the addition of colouring. There are lots of fancy schmancy words in the Technical File to justify this practice, but the truth is simple. In the American market (and now by extension Asia and Europe) darker liquid is largely seen as better. So Irish whiskies are getting darker, so does a Grand Cru exclude E150a?
Ireland used to have a minimum maturation period of five years, do we go back to that, or do we just move away from age statements entirely?
In Summary:
This is just a first pass to generate a discussion about a category that would sit on top of the current Technical File’s requirements, but add to greater transparency and ‘Irishness’ (whatever that is).
A ‘Gold Standard’ or ‘Grand Cru’ would also be inclusive, so if the larger players wanted to engage then they too should be allowed to use the term.
For me the following definition would work, it is simple to explain and understand. To qualify for Grand Cru approval, the Irish whiskey would have to be:
Made with Irish grown and malted grains, distilled in copper pots to a maximum of 85% abv. The whiskey is distilled, matured and bottled in Ireland, it is not chill-filtered nor does it contain added colour.
But there any many other possible definitions and indeed elements.
What do you think?
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]]>Have you ever watched a magician do a trick? It’s all about slight of hand. You are looking at the wand, or the hat, or the woman in fishnets; your attention is being drawn to one thing, to distract you from something else.
As Covid has us re-evaluating everything from how we work, to how we play; it stuck me as a good time to examine the validity of many of the ‘truths’ about Irish whiskey. How many serve a purpose, and how many are little more than slight of hand? Take the minimum three-year maturation period for whiskeys sold in the EU… Or ‘three years and a day’ if you are a tour guide, as that makes the narrative even more fanciful.
Let me just adjust my top hat and swish my cloak. Now I have your attention…. In my right hand I have the rules to follow when producing new make, so watch carefully as I pour the spirit in a barrel. I mutter a spell and wave my wand. Now look at the clock, the time is upon us; 1,095 days have passed (or 1,094 if it’s a leap year). I pop open the cask and hey Presto! Irish Whiskey!
The trick is so good, even though I have just explained it, you still don’t see the slight of hand do you? That slight of hand has you listening to the ticking clock and looking at the barrel – what you are not seeing is what is inside the barrel. I have you distracted by the act of transformation. But what is being transformed? You don’t care. You just want to see me pull that rabbit from my hat.
By focusing your attention on a magic date, I have equalised the whiskey making process. What I put into the barrel is now irrelevant, all that matters is that after three years I have an Irish whiskey.
But of course all whiskey is not created equal. So why should all whiskey be subject to the exact same three year barrier?
Let’s quickly make two barrels of whiskey at the same fictional distillery.
Two new make spirits that frankly couldn’t be more different. Yet after three years both can be sold as ‘Irish Whiskey’. Why? Because the laws governing Irish whiskey (and Scotch for that matter) aren’t designed to be transparent or to benefit the consumer, rather they are built around the needs of the large producer.
I could even put the first new make in a 700 litre and the second in a 50 litre cask, and as far as the one size fits all legislation goes; it’s all just whiskey.
The Debate:
This isn’t a debate around the differences between malt and silent spirit’ – that boat has long sailed. This is about a arbitrary rule that erases the provenance of the grain, and starts the clock ticking the moment spirit hits the wood. All whiskey is not equal, but the three year rule makes it appear that it is.
But the big boys like the minimum maturation period, why? Firstly it seeds the myth and older is better, secondly it’s a handy barrier to entry. If you want to make whiskey, you will somehow have to fund at least three years worth of production, or in fact more (older is better remember). In other words potential competition is neutered by the massive cost of a producing and storing something that can’t be sold.
The idea of a minimum maturation period of whiskey wasn’t brought down from the mountain by Moses. In fact it only goes back to the First World War. The Immature Spirits Act 1915, was as close as British Prime Minister (and rabid teetotaler) David Lloyd George got to his ideal, which was total prohibition. The initial two year minimum maturation period was designed to kill distilleries (as it robbed them of cash flow) while restrictions on pub opening hours was to ensure folk stayed at home. At the time Ireland was part of the United Kingdom, so the law applied here as much as it did in Scotland. After independence, the Irish Free State increased the compulsory bonding period from three to five years (during which time the industry fell into near extinction) but under pressure from Irish Distillers, in 1969 the minimum maturation period in Ireland was reduced to three years.
Is it time to tackle the myth that a minimum maturation period for Irish whiskey is a guarantee of quality? Yes of course. I don’t see anything in the three year rule that benefits the consumer, all I see is smoke and mirrors. Let me expand on that…
There’s a delicious paragraph in the 1878 book ‘Truths About Whisky’ (issued on behalf of Dublin distillers Messers John Jameson & Sons, William Jameson & Co, John Power & Son and George Roe & Co) where they discuss maturation ‘…after about a year, the whisky may be said to be drinkable, after about two years to be good, and, after about three years, to be as good as anything with which the average consumer is likely to become acquainted.’ The book goes on to add ‘in order to arrive at perfection, it may be laid down… until it’s strength has fallen considerably.’
Because back in 1878 they knew whiskey didn’t come with an on/off switch. A whiskey at any age can be interesting if it is well made, and a well made whiskey will change over the years, dropping in and out of shape as the seasons wax and wane.
Do I ever see us getting rid of the three year rule? One the one hand, no, as it suits the multi-national agenda. But on the other hand, wheels are turning and the consumer deserves a more transparent solution.
There is for example, no minimum maturation period for Bourbon, but any American spirit being sold in the EU as whisky has to be at least three years old. What’s more as I write this I am sipping an American ‘whiskey’ that is less than a year old. How do I know, because it says so on the label. More that that it tells me the exact age of each component, and what percentage of the blend comes from what cask. That kind of transparency is not allowed in Ireland or Scotland, instead only the youngest component of any blend or vatting can be referenced. Scottish bottler Compass Box had some fun with this nonsense recently.
The Future:
With the UK leaving the EU, our cousins in Scotland will soon be under considerable pressure to abolish their three year minimum maturation period, which will allow younger American whiskey to be sold in that market. The SWA will will of course fight it. But if the Americans prevail, it could be a tipping point, so what would that mean for Irish Whiskey, or Northern Irish Whiskey as a potential second category on the island?
Unfortunately this magic act doesn’t come with a crystal ball. But I do know the story of Irish whiskey should start with the grain, not the wood. Right now that is not the case, the narrative is instead framed by the arbitrary three year rule, and the only one to suffer is the consumer who’s bought the pup.
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]]>We’re in the middle of a gold rush. A liquid gold rush. From three distilleries on the island of Ireland to over thirty, and all in the lifetime of my second-hand Renault Laguna. In any gold rush, some stand to make a fortune, but most will end up grubbing in the mud or rushing to the pawn brokers laden down with fool’s gold.
Of late my social media timeline has got clogged with more and more companies equating whiskey with a financial return. Buying Irish whiskey is a sure thing we are told. Your investment will be safe as houses we are told. The reality however could be very different.
I met John Teeling for the first time back in 1990 and clearly remember him saying: ‘The quickest way to make a small fortune in the whiskey business is to start with a large fortune.’
So if you are seriously thinking of buying Irish whiskey casks, not for fun, not to drink – but as an investment vehicle, you should keep his words in mind. So here’s a short list to inform your decision-making.
Now if you want to invest in a cask for the sheer thrill of ownership, go for it! And think about going straight to a distillery, remember any middleman will have built in their margin. There are plenty of new distilleries out there with the casks purchase scheme, so shop around (for the sake of clarity Blackwater Distillery does not provide this service).
If after reading all of this you still equate whiskey with wealth, then two words come to mind: caveat emptor.
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]]>The post The Evolution of Pot Still Irish Whiskey and Other Myths appeared first on Blackwater Distillery.
]]>Earlier this week you may have seen this tweet:
Which just might have something to do with a series of blog posts I wrote on the vexed subject of Pot Still Irish, that historic mixed mash bill whiskey that’s been with us since at least the 18th Century. Then again their blog might just be a huge coincidence.
Either way, the Irish Distillers piece sets up the narrative quite nicely:
‘The Irish Whiskey Technical File lists that Irish Pot Still Whiskey must be made from a mash which contains a minimum of 30% malted barley and a minimum of 30% unmalted barley, with up to 5% of other cereals such as oats and rye added if required.’
The Technical File is the rule book, in place since 2014, that sets out a set of processes and standards that have to be met to qualify for Geographical Indication (G.I.) protection.
Our issue is that there has never historically been a Pot Still Irish whiskey that is compliant with the current definition.
The essential characteristic of Pot Still Irish whiskey has always been its mix of barley, malt and other grains. I have distillery mash bills covering the period 1823 to 1955 and instead of ‘other grains’ making up 5% of the total (as is currently allowed), the range is actually from 20% to 70%. So how did we end up defining a category in terms of a 5% limit that never existed?
Boil away all the blather and the Irish Distillers/Pernod Ricard blog attributed to Barry Crockett (or Media Team) offers two variants on where the ‘5% rule’ came from.
First up is the ‘it’s too hard to define’ explanation: ‘a broad catch-all definition would weaken the claim to have some particularly unique characteristic.’ Clearly no one at Pernod has ever heard of Bourbon which mandates 51% corn, allowing for 49% of whatever you’re having yourself.
I don’t think they even believe that explanation, because they they then go on to say the G.I. has to define ‘uniqueness’, forgetting entirely that the same Technical File protects Single Malt Irish Whiskey which is of course, totally not unique.
Which brings us to explanation No.2 and this is where things get a lot more interesting.
First, let me give this a little background. In 1953 we know that every every last distillery in the country (under the umbrella of The Irish Pot Still Distillers Association, so that’s Jameson, Powers, Lockes, Tullamore and Cork Distillers) put their names to a letter stating that barley typically accounted for 80% of a mash, with the other grains making up the remaining 20%.
So there’s a clear line in the sand – we know for a fact that in 1953 some 20% other grains were used in a typical Pot Still Irish whiskey.
The Pernod blog states:
‘There was no intention to consider oats or other cereal types from the mid to late 1960s onwards where Irish Pot Still whiskey was concerned.’
So, between 1953 and the mid to late 60s, it was all over for oats. So what else happened in the period? Well in 1966, the three surviving Irish distilleries (Jameson, Powers and Cork Distillers) formed Irish Distillers and set about centralising all production at a new facility in Midleton. And the Pernod blogs states:
‘No oats whatsoever were used in the final years of the older distillery nor in the new Midleton Distillery from 1975.’
So there you have it, by their own admission at Midleton they don’t use mixed grains.
The liquid that became Pot Still Irish whiskey is purely a creation of Irish Distillers (later taken over by Pernod); it is a child of a monopoly. The only people ever to make it were Irish Distillers and now an entire category has been defined in terms of what they produce.
The message in this tweet is clear, it’s a statement of company policy. Pernod’s Pot Still Irish is a mix of barley and malt.
Now if the defining character of Pot Still Irish whiskey is its mixed mash bill, and what Irish Distillers have produced since the mid-to -late 60s lacks those required ‘other cereals’, you could argue it is no longer a Pot Still Irish whiskey – it has evolved into something else.
The Pernod blog ends with this interesting insight on the 5% rule:
‘This addition rate would not jeopardise the essential characteristic and thus the term Irish Pot Still Whiskey could validly claim its unique provenance.’
Forget the provenance bit, as percentages have nothing to do with provenance. Instead closely look at these six words: ‘would not jeopardise the essential characteristic’. In other words, while historically the ‘essential characteristic’ of Pot Still Irish whiskey was its mixed mash bill, this is an admission that the category has now been redefined. Since 2014, the ‘essential characteristic’ is how they make it in Midleton.
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]]>There are a couple of questions I get asked all the time.
We, whiskey snobs, can roll our eyes all we want, but those questions are more valid than you first might think. Remember most Americans believe Irish is a form of Scotch; as for the difference between Single Malt, Single Pot Still, Blend, Bourbon etc; well they’re all brown aren’t they?
So back to question 1. What is the difference between Scotch and Irish? Forget the usual tropes, Irish Whiskey doesn’t have to have to contain an ‘e’, it doesn’t have to be triple distilled, and it’s got nothing to do with Peat either. Take Pot Still Irish out of the equation, (because most people don’t know the fuck what it is anyway) and let’s talk about the category the Scots have made their own – Single Malt.
Again (baby steps) a single malt isn’t half a double malt, it’s a type of whiskey made from malt, in a single distillery, in pot stills. Irish or Scottish, doesn’t matter both are aged three years. In Scotland, it has to be an oak cask, while in Ireland it can be made from balsa wood (if you could be arsed). So the only other notable difference is that Irish whisky has to be made in Ireland, while Scotch whisky has to be made in Scotland.
So, is that it?
Yup. It’s like finding that the answer to life the universe and everything is actually 42.
We spin a line that Irish whiskey is unique, and in a way it is, because it’s legally defined as unique (it’s made on the island of Ireland). But what makes the liquid unique? Here we have a problem.
So you’re an Irish distillery, and you want to import metric shit tonnes of barley from France, distil it, then stick said spirit in a Spanish cask? That’s cool. I will wave my magic distilling copper wand, and three years later – Irish Single Malt Whiskey is born.
So you’re a Scottish distillery, and you want to import metric shit tonnes of barley from France, distil it, then stick said spirit in a Spanish cask? That’s cool. I will wave my magic distilling copper wand, and three years later – Scotch Single Malt is Whiskey born.
Want to be ‘innovative’? Grab yourself (delete as necessary) an American barrel, French cognac cask, and used tabasco hogshead.
Which brings us neatly to: why do Irish whiskies all taste the same?
Because most of them come from one of two distilleries (see ‘innovation’ sub-clause above).
You know what?
What?
We can do better.
Surely there has to be more to the category of Irish whiskey than Jameson, Dublin 12 and barrel finishing (so innovative back in 1987 somewhere in the vicinity of Glenmorangie).
What if Irish whiskey wasn’t defined by the post-ice age flooding that turned this landmass into an island? Because, you know what? Unless we are careful, that’s how random and meaningless the category of Irish whiskey will become. In the great auditorium of spirits, are we nothing more than the support act to the Proclaimers?
Down the road from us Waterford Distillery are spearheading a revolution. You’ll never guess what the mad feckers are up to? They are making Irish whisky from Irish barley. I know! Bat-shit mad.
Here at Blackwater we’re not only using 100% Irish barley (wait for it), we’re also using 100% Irish wheat and oats! I know. Fucking mental! We still import rye (because we can’t get any here), but that will change later this year.
What’s more, we are working with local farmers, and a craft maltster! LOL! (as my 10-year-old son would say) LOFL! We’re also bringing Heritage (aka Second Hand) Grains back into the food chain. It’s the Heritage Grain Project, a five-year mission to explore new worlds, seek out… sorry. A five-year mission to bring Heritage Irish grains back into use. Because if there’s one thing an accountant loves more than Irish grain, it’s cheaper imported grain. But barley is grown for flavour, famous for low yields and a total fucker if you’re driving a combine harvester that costs more than the average house? That’s the way of madness.
So why are we doing this?
Because there has to be more to Irish Whisky than two soccer teams and one rugby team.
There has to be more than Protestant Whiskey and Catholic Whiskey.
And there certainly has to be more than the fifth letter of the alphabet.
Because you know what? If that’s our only point of difference, then we’re rightly fucked.
To be continued…
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]]>This is like a box set, welcome to part III, the story so far can be got here and here. Or the pre-title teaser goes like this:
In previous episodes we started to build our case exploring how the Technical File for Pot Still Irish Whiskey which underpins the G.I. was drawn up in 2014 not to protect the category, but rather to protect two pre-existing brands…
Episode 3
The One with the Smoking Gun
Let’s start with what a G.I. (Geographic Indicator) actually is and why it’s important.
‘The geographical indication identifies a spirit drink as originating in the territory of a country, or a region or locality in that territory, where a given quality, reputation or other characteristic of that spirit drink is essentially attributable to its geographical origin.’
The Technical File contains the rules which have to be met if a drink is to qualify for a G.I. The benefits and protections that come with a European Union G.I. are many. Put it this way, if you are a Cornish Pastie maker you won’t be undercut by Chinese Cornish Pasties, that is until the end of March at any rate. After that you are fucked.
Pot Still Irish whiskey is a uniquely Irish mix of malted and unmalted barley plus other grains. Since before dinosaurs ruled the earth until 2014, you could use what ever combination of grain you fancied when making this whiskey. Then suddenly, with the adoption of that Technical File in 2014, the brakes are applied and a minimum of 30% barley and a minimum of 30% unmalted barley was imposed, along with a maximum 5% limit on other grains.
So if you wanted to control the category, policing what went into that Technical File was key. For example, even though Pot Still Irish whiskey has to be ‘distilled in a pot still’ there’s this: ‘Still residues may be collected and redistilled in column stills with the resulting feints subsequently distilled along with recycled pot still feints in a pot still.’ This is clearly a process Midleton wanted to continue, so getting it into the rule book was essential.
But back to the bigger picture, the no less than 30% malted, 30% unmalted barley + no more than 5% grain mix. According to the Technical File, ‘each distillery has its own recipe within the parameters outlined above,’ which at the time applied only to one distillery and in all my research I have yet to come across a single historic Pot Still mash bill that fits this description.
So the ‘recipe’ in the Pot Still Technical File was retrofitted into history. Why? With only one company at the table making Pot Still Irish, I would argue that restricting particularly the amount of ‘other grains’ allowable to only 5% was to prevent the flavour profile of this new category straying too far from Redbreast or Green Spot.
Which means we have a Pot Still Irish Technical File describing best practice which has no historical basis and one that reflects the working practices of a single distillery. To be clear, Redbreast and Green Spot are evolutionary outliers. So defining Pot Still Irish whiskey solely in terms of its current shape makes no sense. The Labradoodle can trace its linage back to the wolf, but that doesn’t make it a wolf.
Ok I hear you cry. All those other mash bills which E.B. McGuire in this book Irish Whiskey dates back to 1785, as so bloody old they don’t count. All that matters is now. You see the problem with that is that getting a G.I. is not an easy task, there has to be a cultural and historic basis for any claim.
It’s true that in response to the tsunami of Scotch that threatened the industry, over time Pot Still Irish not only homoginised, but also simplified. The flavour was diluted, with less and less focus on those forceful ‘other grains’. By the 1950s and 60s the category was on life support, but there were still five independent producers.
It’s January 1953 and in a submission to the Irish Government, The Irish Pot Still Distillers Association defined Irish Pot Still Whiskey as follows: ‘Barley supplies about 80%, oats 15% and wheat 5% of the distillers’ cereal requirements.’ The letter was signed by Jameson, Powers, Cork Distillers, Tullamore, and Locke’s. This tallies with the following from Locke’s distillery (1912 – 42) which independently sets the levels at: 40% malt, 40% barley, 5% rye (transitioning to wheat in the 1940s), 15% oats.
This then is literally the last mash definition put forward before the industry contracted to a single producer.
So as late as the 1950s there is no mention of 30:30:5, and by 1966 the Irish whiskey industry had collapsed into the monopoly of Irish Distillers (later Pernod Ricard). It would seem that everything that happened before this point in time is nothing more than an inconvenient truth.
By the time the Alcohol Textbook edited by T.P Lyons was published in 2003, it’s clear Pot Still Irish whiskey had pretty much faded from view. Here the author mentions 5% oats, but is so far removed for the reality of the drink he is unsure if its inclusion was to help strain the grain bed, or to add flavour. But it doesn’t explain where that 5% came from in the first place, but it’s not easy to hazard a guess, as in the 50 years between 1966 and 2016 only one company produced Pot Still Irish whiskey.
This all leads to one question. If the Technical File that underpins the G.I. doesn’t reflect the best broad practice, cultural heritage, historical fact and known practice – is it valid? Or more worryingly being based on the reality of just one producer, does the definition of Pot Still Irish whiskey contained in the Technical File undermine the very G.I. it is there to support?
This is serious stuff. If the house of cards collapses, then what? We would argue that we need a definition of Pot Still Irish whiskey that more accurately reflects the spirit of the spirit (if you know what I mean), one that will stand some scrutiny and isn’t the work of one author.
The research here isn’t all mine, I am grateful to Fionnan O’Connor, Charlie Roche and Will Murphy among others for pulling the paper trail together.
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