The Whisky Guy Blog

The first bottle of Islay single malt I ever purchased was the Laphroaig 10-year-old.  When I first started exploring single malts, I heard mysterious rumblings from whisky people about this island dram that was a love-it or hate-it pour.  There were single malts you enjoyed and there was Laphroaig.  Even the name invited a special challenge.  Laap-Hro…egg??? (actually pronounced La-froyg).  I went to a whisky shop in San Francisco to make the purchase and the owner raised an eyebrow when I said I’d never even sampled it.  He put it in the bag with a “I hope you know what you’re in for” kind of look on his face.

When I opened the bottle for the first time, I recoiled at the medicinal aroma.  It smelled like something you’d soak bandages in before putting them on wounds (later I would find out that this aroma benefited Laphroaig during the US Prohibition, as it was marketed and sold as medicine).  The nose betrayed an almost sickly sweet mixture of smoke, seaweed, and alcohol.  I reluctantly sipped this ill advised purchase and screwed my face in anticipation of the horrible taste.  I sipped it again.  Hmmm.  Interesting.  Another sip.  I was starting to have the feeling you get when you peel off a scab: it hurts, but in some strange way it also feels good.  I took another sip. And another.  I didn’t feel ill, I felt excited.

Since then, my whisky collection has never been without a Laphroaig. 

The excitement from my first bottle of Laphroaig (www.laphroaig.com) carried over to my first recent visit to the distillery.  Just as I had to fight the elements of Laphroaig’s malt in order to enjoy my first taste, so too did I have to fight the elements to get to the distillery for my first visit. I was there on a miserable day of heavy wind, cold rain, heavy rain and cold wind (on Islay it’s possible for the wind and rain to each do two things at once, just to make outdoor excursions all the more challenging).  

Laphroaig's peatiness comes from the furnace below the malting floor.

Laphroaig has enjoyed a 50 percent growth in the U.S. market in the past year, which explains why the only other person there on this wicked weather day was a fellow from New York.  The distillery is a mixture of old and new.  They still do their own floor maltings for a percentage of their whisky.  However, with an annual production of more than two million litres, their equipment is modern through and through.

The thing that grabs you most about Laphroaig is the location, wedged on a developed piece of land bordered by bogs and woods on one side and the raging sea on the other side.  In fact, once you see the setting, especially under the conditions I did, you understand why Laphroaig has an otherworldly taste: it comes from an otherworldly place.

Distillery Manager John Campbell, who joined the distillery in 1994, says the magic of Laphroaig is that the taste does take your imagination to a place as wild and untamed as Laphroaig.  The third-generation whisky maker thinks that with the stresses and speed of modern life, people enjoy the mental picture of escape Laphroaig provides.  The image, along with the layers of flavor in the spirit, is what drives the continued growth of the product. 

Laphroaig would need a rudder if it were any closer to the sea.

The distillery has nearly 350,000 “Friends of Laphroaig” — fans from around the world who are wild about the whisky.  They flock to the distillery throughout the year, and when not visiting in person, enjoy several online opportunities to see Laphroaig in action, including partaking in a “Laphroaig Live” Web event. As I talk with John, I hear the sea crashing against the rocks of Laphroaig’s oceanside doorstep.  I realize that from these shores a whisky was launched nearly 200-years-ago that still makes huge waves around the world.

I’m sitting in the Port Charlotte Hotel pub as I write this Laphroaig musing.  The pub was named the Whisky Pub of the Year in the Good Pub Guide 2009 (http://www.thegoodpubguide.co.uk/pub/view/Port-Charlotte-Hotel-PA48-7TU) and has a fantastic selection of Islay malts.  Laphroaig is well-represented on the list with nearly a dozen offerings.  For my money, the Quarter Cask and the Cask Strength are fantastic.  The 15-year-old, which is being phased out in favor of an 18-year-old, is also a great dram. 

I always tell people that the 10-year-old is the perfect example that age doesn’t necessarily dictate how good a whisky can be.  When it’s ready, it’s ready.  I highly recommed you give Laphroaig a try and add a drop of water to open up the sweetness.  At first blush, you may find it a bit challenging, but give it a chance.  Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up finding a new friend.

I’ve been in Port Charlotte for a few days, taking a break away from the cottage to enjoy some time socializing with locals I haven’t seen for awhile and with the influx of tourists that suddenly appeared this month.  A couple of days ago, I befriended a group of college students who are with a foreign exchange program at Glasgow University.  The group included Germans, Dutch and an American, and they were thankful that this stranger who has been on Islay for a few months could give them some tips about the island.

I joined the group on their last day here for a visit to Bruichladdich Distillery, which is just up the road, and a journey to Bowmore.  Mary and Caran in the Bruichladdich shop were kind enough to give us a special tour outside of their normal schedule, as we all had a bus to catch to Bowmore an hour later.  As always, the tour gave the students the chance to interact with the men and women of Bruichladdich in a very personal way.  In all my distillery visits to places like Laphroiag, Ardbeg, etc., the people involved in whisky making are friendly without exception and eager to answer questions they’re asked hundreds of times each year. Even though visitors may lack whisky knowledge, and perhaps lack a grasp of English, people here treat these strangers with kindness and respect.

Jim McEwan gives an impromptu whisky lesson.

Our little international group stopped in a warehouse where Jim McEwan and some of the warehouse boys were hard at work selecting casks for bottling.  Jim, who’s never met a crowd he didn’t want to entertain, dropped what he was doing and led the group on an eloquent journey through Bruichladdich’s philosophy and a tasting of one of the distillery’s many experimental spirits.  The college students - Florian, Irene, Erin, Jelle and another Florian - were unaware they were getting to experience for free what thousands of whisky enthusiasts around the world pay preciously for at whisky festivals: a chance to talk about whisky with Jim McEwan.  Irene, who had no interest in whisky before the tour, had developed both an interest in and a taste for whisky by the end.  Such is the magic of what happens when someone like Jim takes the time to interact with strangers.

Two local women, who’d stopped at Bruichladdich mini-mart graciously offered to give a ride to three of us, as that’s all the room the car had.  We sent along the two girls and one of the guys, while the remaining three guys stayed behind, trying to hitch another ride.  We had zero luck, as the few cars that passed us were filled with passengers or items.  A rescuer finally appeared in the form of the same two women who had helped our friends.  They’d returned several miles out of their way, as they couldn’t bear to have us suffering in the rain.

If there is anything I’ve learned in my years of travel and thousands of interviews I’ve conducted as a journalist, it’s that most of the problems in the world are caused by a few scared people.  The majority of folks are just trying to enjoy life and get along as best they can.  One morning in Islay made a difference in the lives of strangers from several countries.  Pretty impressive for a hunk of land peeking above the wild waves of the North Sea.

There is a wonderful piece about the people of Islay at Islay Info http://www.islayinfo.com/islay_people_ileach.html.  If you can’t make it here one day, at least check this out to see what you’re missing.  As always, thanks for the comments and the emails (rob.gard@whiskyguyrob.com).  I’m glad you are enjoying my whisky musings!

Friday night at the Ballygrant Inn can be a big night here on Islay.  I recently stepped out to join the locals at a fun “Quiz Night” trivia contest, thanks to the invitation of Adam and Grant from the Bruichladdich Distillery warehouse.  Joined by Joann who handles the data side of the warehouse operations and by Grant’s girlfriend, we were one of 14 teams who settled in for nearly four hours of trivia time.

Now, a pub trivia contest is in no way like Jeopardy or Eggheads.  Each round was separated by people going to the bar for more rounds of drinks.  A halfway point break included trays of sandwiches being passed out among players.  As a bonus, there was a raffle which raised money for a local organization while parceling out some great prizes.

I cleaned up on the raffle, with two of my five tickets winning me a box of candy and a bottle of Bowmore 12. 

As for our team, we finished a highly respectable second place, just two points out of first.  I was able to add some strength to questions about American actors and such, but was rendered mute when it came to U.K. advertising slogans.  Adam and Grant took charge of the football jersey identification round.  Joann rocked the cryptic rock band questions.  And we all chipped in to do extremely well in the James Bond theme song category. 

As a team, we won more candy, wine and whisky.  Between these spoils and other bottled items I’ve collected since arriving on Islay in January, I think I’ll have to leave all my clothes behind when I depart in order to make room for the beverages in my backpack.