Posted by Rob / Recently, I returned from a lengthy journey in India (and several weeks away from solid Internet access). As previously mentioned, I brought several mini-bottles of fine whisky to enjoy with me when the occasion called for it: such as floating on a rice barge I rented for a backwaters tour in Kerala; playing a borrowed acoustic guitar on my balcony overlooking Lake Pichola in Udaipur; and having a lovely conversation with a Swiss woman at a rooftop restaurant as we waited for the rising moonlight to cling to the Taj Mahal.
The single malts I brought weren’t the only whiskies I drank in India, however. Jim Murray (www.whiskybible.com) suggested that I try a few Indian whiskies while in that land of curry and cows. So, while I spent seven weekdays in Anjuna, Goa, soaking up the sun on the beach, I spent seven weeknights sampling several whiskies that were available in the area.
The whiskies I enjoyed, ranging from a Seagram’s blend made in India, to McDowell’s Number One Blend, were all drinkable, which considering the price – under $2 U.S. for about a fifth – was one of my main concerns. The impact of English “influence” during the 19th and 20th centuries brought whisky to the attention of Indians. But, as with many external influences from various uninvited “visitors” throughout its history, India seems to have adapted whisky in its own unique way.
Take McDowell’s, for example. Certainly there was a malty dryness one would expect of someone trying to replicate or imitate Scotch. However, there was also a subtle tropical fruit, even syrupy flavor – almost to the point where I wondered how it would taste poured over the galub jamon fried milk dessert balls that I inhaled on a regular basis. McDowell’s ages their water of life in Scotch oak barrels, so that kissing-cousin malty/woody flavor is explained. But that hint of pineapple, even a bit of a snappy spiciness, where did that come from?
Sadly, I didn’t have the chance to take a planned tour of McDowell’s distillery to have that question answered. My distillery visit was scheduled a week after the terrorist attacks in Mumbai and due to security measures, it was canceled at the last minute. I have no idea why I was wrapped up in that security clamp-down. I mean, I was more of a threat to get bombed sampling their whiskies than I was of bombing their distillery.
So, is that exotic fruit and rich spiciness a result of the warm tropical climate where the casks age? Does it come from water infused with the flavors of every day dining in the region? Or is there a factory next door that cans curried mango and pineapple and the aroma filters over? I’ll never know the answer.
But, I’ll forever remember sharing a dram with an English traveler I met at dinner as we discussed the shifting tide of world politics and economics in his country and mine. And I know the McDowell’s blend provided plenty of familiarity tothe kind of whisky we each knew and loved, but added enough local pizazz to be the perfect drink for that beachfront conversation. And as I stress and will continue to stress, having the right whisky at the right time is half of what makes it enjoyable. So, McDowell’s, thank you for that memory moment.
Now, if I could just get off your terrorist watch list…