Scotch Roundup: September

As Joe at Federal W&S had recently emailed me to say that he had received some bottles of Ardbeg Uigeadail, a bottle about which I had previously inquired, I decided to swing by and pick it up.  Unfortunately, as I had already made arrangements to meet some friends for dinner at Oliveira's in Eastie, I did not have enough foresight to consider that I would have to lug my precious new acquisition across town.  Nevertheless, the bottle made the trek with me and waited patiently as the rodizio churrascaria kicked into full gear, with nary a moment where my plate was without meat.  Afterward, I went home to recover and to slake my thirst.

Ardbeg Uigeadail (non chill-filtered, 54.2% abv):
Nose - smoke, smoke, soot, peat, bonfires, saline, burning leaves in autumn, smoke; after adjusting to the smokiness, jamon, lingonberry jam, bread pudding and Kansas City-style barbecue, pancakes and bacon; a savory, meaty sweetness subsumed by smoke
Taste - hit of initial spice, aggressive pepper, cigar tobacco both before being smoked and the ash after, salted caramel, worn leather, s'mores, a medicinal bitterness, cherry candy at the very end as everything else is fading; after a bit of water is added, the smoke and spice drop off a bit to reveal a touch of creamy sweetness, toffee, brioche, cashew butter, cinnamon, darkly roasted coffee

Ardbeg Uigeadail

 Later in the month, when I was down in DC, I met up with Carlos and Casie at Jack Rose.  My previous trip there was fantastic, so I was eager to go again.  Not much had changed since my last visit, although the gears seemed to be a bit better oiled.  I wasted no time in ordering my first dram, having picked the distillery of Longmorn while on the Metro ride over, as it got consistently good marks in the Malt Maniacs Matrix.  The second was a Port Charlotte because I could not afford the Port Ellen, and the third was just a random shot in the dark.  I also had a chance to try the Dallas Dhu that Carlos ordered.

Port Charlotte (PC6 is pictured, PC8 tasting notes below)

• Longmorn 15 (45%):
  Cooked apples, lychee, mild British-style curry, lemonade sweetened with honey
• Port Charlotte PC8 (60.5%):
  Cumin, hickory-smoked barbecue, cedar-wood sauna, peaty
• Glenburgie 26 year (Signatory C/S collection, 1983-2010, hogshead C#9812, 266 of 289, 55.2%):
  Bubblegum, grapes, sweetened breakfast cereal, tangerines or kumquats, black pepper but not the spice thereof
• Dallas Dhu 18 year (The Cooper's Choice):
  Very fruit forward, mango, celery, gooseberries, champagne

Glenburgie 26 year

 After Jack Rose, we adjourned to Carlos' apartment, where he was kind enough to share a bit of his Glenfiddich Snow Phoenix.  By this point, my palate was no longer as sharp as it should be to appreciate the nuances of whisky, but it tasted the most grain-forward of the scotches that night, more specifically, buttered toast.  In addition to the grain malts, it tasted of honey, nuts and fall fruits.

Glenfiddich Snow Phoenix

PX

On a muggy evening a few weeks back, I met up with Carlos on a quiet corner in downtown Alexandria.  A few revelers could be seen carousing up and down King Street, but we turned our attention down a quiet side street.  Coming to a door lit with a blue lamp, we went up the stoop and rang the bell.  As we waited, a couple ladies parked their car on the opposite side of the street and fell into line behind us.  A moment later, the peephole slid open, the darkness obscuring the observer within.  Pleasantries were exchanged in hushed voices.  The door opened a crack to let the two of us in; the women behind us were not as fortunate.

Ushered upstairs, we first passed a room full of gentlemen, nattily dressed perhaps, but clearly as an affectation, for a goodly number still had their hats atop their heads.  A gentleman does not fail to remove his hat in private spaces, much less while in the presence of ladies.  Then came the main stage, the dais upon which the master practiced his art.  A small bar with ten or so seats around it, mahogany and marble, matching the rest of the dimly lit room, all mahogany and white upholstery.  We continued on, however, into the last room, a parlour of sorts, the type that would easily play host to a salon of literary wits.

Parlour

We took our seats as indicated, joining the other eight occupants in the room who were all engaged in hushed conversations.  Aside from the dim chandelier, the room was illuminated by plenty of votive candles on the side tables and mantel ledges.  The ledges also were home to a variety of vintage cocktail shakers, soda siphons and the like.  After perusing the menu, I decided to make my first drink the Dreaming of the Green Can, whereas Carlos picked the Norfolk Dumpling.  I also took the opportunity while I had the server's attention to request a move to the bar as soon as a couple seats opened up.  Habitual barfly that I am, I feel more at home in that specific habitat.

While the menu certainly had many interesting drinks, I wanted to play it safe to start; after all, I think it is more useful to judge the quality of the cocktails that are more simple.  Containing roasted pineapple juice, hibiscus bitters, pimiento dram, and Barbancourt 8, my first cocktail sounded, and indeed tasted, very tiki.  Served up, unlike most tiki drinks, I was struck by how balanced it was with mellow pineapple, allspice coming to the fore, and a subsumed rum backbone.  Personally, I think I would have preferred a rum with a bit more character to stand up to the spices, such as an agricole.

Menu, Page 1

While a very good cocktail, it was by no means as adventurous nor as exciting as the Norfolk Dumpling, which contained and tasted very strongly of duck sauce.  To be honest, it tasted like Chinese food and very little else.  Out of balance, perhaps, but it showed some signs of real creativity and funk.  Thus, for my next drink, I took up the gauntlet and got the I Bet You Won't Order This Cocktail.  We had finished our previous round with perfect timing as a couple seats at the bar did indeed become available, and we made our move to the front row.

I Bet You Won't Order This Cocktail

After making introductions, Clinton, the sole bartender behind the stick, mentioned that my order was not a challenge.  Containing soy sauce, honey, citrus vinegar, smoked Blackstrap rum and Ron Zacapa, one could certainly beg to differ.  While the beautifully creamy head was one reason why a straw was needed, the intensity of the drink would be another.  The soy sauce was not overpowering, unlike the previous duck sauce, but it did lend a very noticeable umami taste to the drink that played very well with the molasses from the rum.  This was definitely a drink for sipping.

The Bar, PX

On the other hand, Carlos picked the Sampaloc Sour for his second round based on his affinity for tamarind.  If tamarind was what he was after, then the drink hit the nail on the head.  We also learned later that the tamarind syrup that the bar uses also includes some dates, which I think really made a nice bridge between the tamarind and the rum.

Next, Carlos stuck with a dried-fruit flavors sort of theme by picking the I Don't Know off the menu, which contained figs, while I challenged Clinton to make me something with basil.  Basil is one of Jose's favorite challenge ingredients, and I thought it especially appropriate as summer was winding down.  In return, I was served a Basil N' Bourbon.  As the name implies, the drink contained basil, in the form of a basil syrup, but instead of bourbon, my drink had rye.  The drink was rounded out with lemon juice, lemon bitters and a spicy ginger ale.  I found the combination to be quite perfect, with the basil playing off the rye's grass notes while the ginger played off the spice notes, and the lemon brought everything into balance.

Basil N' Bourbon

Meanwhile, Carlos was intrigued by use of spices and decided that his last drink would be the Cure All, which featured fresh tumeric.  While one typically thinks of tumeric as an ingredient in Indian curries, the freshly grated stuff was far less pungent.  The rest of the cocktail was composed of gin, blanco tequila and a coconut-basil soda, again demonstrating the inventiveness and focus on culinary ingredients.

Menu, Page 2

As the night was quickly winding down, I decided that my last drink should be in a dessert of sorts and asked Clinton to use scotch as the base.  Thus, he made me a Ron Burgundy with Macallan 12, tamarind syrup, orange juice syrup, orange bitters and orange zest.  Despite containing no chocolate, I distinctly thought I could taste something rather chocolatey along side the malts of the scotch; it must be some interplay of the ingredients that generated that mirage.  It was a perfect way to end the evening, one that I very much enjoyed.

By that point, the bar had emptied out and the hour grew late.  I thanked Clinton for a fantastic evening and promised to visit in the future.  As Carlos and I found ourselves back out on the stoop, we made plans to meet again under the light of the blue lantern and went our separate ways, leaving behind that unmarked door and the wonderful drinks within.

Government work, Part II

The next day, we decided to head up to the Adams Morgan area to visit Jack Rose, a new bar that had just opened a couple weeks before.  Having read about it on UrbanDaddy as a "library of whiskey," I was quite intrigued.  As we walked closer, however, I immediately noticed a line that had formed in front of the establishment, with the people standing in line dressed as if to go clubbing.  This sight gave me significant consternation and other feelings of foreboding.  Good whiskey and club are not words that are commonly associated.

Thankfully, we discovered upon reaching the door that the line was for the rooftop bar, and that there was no line for the main bar downstairs.  Later we learned that the ground floor bar had only just opened for service a couple days prior, and there was a general feeling of being unfinished around the edges.  However, the description of the place as a "library of whiskey" is not far from the truth, and not just any library.  The Library of Congress and the Svalbard Global Seed Vault come to mind, any available wall space in the rather large room was covered in shelves stocking whisk(e)y.  Purportedly, there were close to 500 bottles of rye and bourbon, and twice that of scotch.  We were lucky to snag a nice booth in the far corner with a semicircular banquette, and we had arrived just in time as the bar soon began to fill with those people outside who decided that having a drink inside beat waiting in line.

 Many whiskies adorn the walls of Jack Rose

There did not seem to be service at our table, so we went over to the bar to order drinks.  One difficulty with such a large selection of whiskey is curating it and presenting the list in some comprehensible form.  In this department, Jack Rose needed work as there was no list.  Thus, ordering a dram depended on what labels one could read and what labels one can remember offhand.  For my first drink, I wanted something to ease into as I had not had much scotch in some time.  I ended up getting the Glenkinchie 12, as the distillery is one that I had heard of, but never tried before.  This whisky came across with a lot of heather, honey and nuts; it was good, but nothing fantastic.

As some in my group had been before, they caught the attention of Rachel, the beverage director, and Bill, the proprietor.  Both of them were rather amiable despite the increasingly hectic atmosphere as more patrons filled the bar.  After being introduced, Bill asked what my pleasure was, and I joked that being a Tennessean, born and raised, I had to have certain loyalties.  This quip turned out to be quite fortuitous as he mentioned that he was about to open and try a bottle of George Dickel 10 year old special barrel reserve with another patron and that he would pour me a taste as well.  In addition to notes of corn, oak and straw that I expect from George Dickel, there was also strong hints of sugarcane and banana.  It ended up being a particularly special treat as I have since learned that this expression of George Dickel is no longer bottled.

My next dram was Abelour A'bunadh, another whisky that I had heard of before, but which I have never tried.  This one also came with both Carlos' and Rachel's recommendations.  Despite being a whisky that is certainly on the sweeter side, it definitely had far more depth and intensity than the Glenkinchie.  Full of caramel, chocolate sauce, dates, raisins, PX sherry, but put into frame with strong spice on the tongue.  Unfortunately, I did not catch which bottling of the A'bunadh it was, as bottlings can vary in taste quite distinctly.

In the mean time, Arthur and Casie started with Yamazaki 12, but then moved into cocktail territory.  Clare also stuck with cocktails, including the namesake Jack Rose.  Of what I tasted of the cocktails, I would personally stick to the whiskies.  Whereas the quality of cocktail served was not bad, it was nothing extraordinary, unlike the multitude of whiskies from which to choose.  Carlos, on the other hand, drank only scotches, like me.  However, his tastes led him to the smokier end of the spectrum, getting the Ardbeg Airigh Nam Beist 1990 first and the Ardbeg Corryvreckan second.  The Airigh Nam Beist was simply superb, one of the best whiskies I think I have thus far tasted.  At first, the nose brought iodine, peat and the idea of a Norse funeral.  However, the taste was quite balanced for an Islay.  Smokey peat was there, but subsumed by the symphony of other flavors: velvety cashew butter, tart apples, salted toffee, coffee, lavender and black pepper.  On the other hand, the Corryvreckan struck me as tasting exactly like burnt toast, maybe spread with a bit of Nutella, but thoroughly burnt nonetheless.

By the end of the night, as the bar was clearing out, Carlos and I both got half pours of the Bunnahabhain 12 and the Bunnahabhain Heavily Peated Unchillfiltered Signatory 1997.  Trying the 12 first, I was struck by how extremely slight the presence of peat is, despite Bunnahabhain being an Islay distillery.  Instead, I tasted a lot of dried grass, papaya and other tropical fruit.  The contrast was even more notable after sipping the Heavily Peated, which tasted more similar to what I have come to expect from Islay whiskies.  The latter was characterized by roasted nuts, seaside driftwood, throwing wet hay on a campfire, burnt toffee.

Bunnahabhain Heavily Peated Unchillfiltered Signatory 1997

Bill was a great host, and it was truly wonderful to try some of these delicious and rare whiskies.  Of the ones we tried, I believe the Ardbeg Airigh Nam Beist, the George Dickel 10 year Special Reserve and the Bunnahabhain Heavily Peated Signatory are no longer bottled expressions.  There were a few snags in service, slowness and bartenders who are not thoroughly educated on the offerings, the latter problem exacerbated by the lack of a menu or list.  The slowness seemed to be caused by unfamiliarity on the one hand and only one cashier terminal with which to do all the monetary transactions.  Hopefully, both issues will be resolved soon as I would love to return next time I am in DC.

Government work, Part I

A couple weekends ago, I went down to DC for one of my frequent trips to visit my parents.  Ever since they have partially moved to DC this year, it is much easier to visit them as airfare between Boston and DC is relatively inexpensive and convenient.  Although this time, the flight down proved to be somewhat of a pain since thunderstorms in the DC area led to one flight cancellation and numerous delays.  Sadly, I was planning on having dinner with my parents, but the delays meant that that was not to be.  Instead, I had to grab a quick dinner at the Legal Test Kitchen next to the gate.  In hindsight, it did not need to be quick, as more delays soon followed.  In any case, with my dinner of a scallop and shrimp topped gumbo, I ordered a martini and specified 4:1, stirred, lemon twist.  What I got was a glass of cold gin with very little, if any vermouth, and it was shaken.  As my confidence in the bartender was similarly shaken as a consequence, I finished dinner with a dram of scotch neat and went back to waiting gate-side until we finally commenced boarding.

A couple hours later, the plane lands at DCA, but we sit on the tarmac for a good 20 or so minutes because apparently there were no open gates for us to debark.  By this point, the flight has not only ruined dinner, but became very close to ruining a reservation to go drinking as well.  Thus, as soon as we finally pulled into a gate, I ran off straight to the Metro to catch a train up to Columbia Room.  I arrived a few minutes late much to my dismay, but thankfully, I had not missed too much.

First off, you may be wondering why I was in such a hurry to make it to the bar on time.  Granted, I generally do not like to keep people waiting for me regardless of where I am meeting them.  However, in this case, being punctual was not simply a courtesy towards friends.  To better understand, allow me to explain what Columbia Room is.  Unlike most bars where one can walk up and take a seat at one's leisure, Columbia Room requires a reservation at a specific time for a specific number of guests.  Not only is the reservation to guarantee a seat at the bar, but also represents a commitment to a prix fixe tasting menu that consists of a trio of beverages and an amuse bouche alongside.

Upon arriving, I could see why such a policy exists.  I had been to Passenger, the watering hole within which Columbia Room resides, before, but I had not been to Columbia Room itself before.  After fumbling for a moment before knocking on the correct unmarked door, I was ushered into the antechamber of the speakeasy.  I was amiably greeted by the host, who checked my name off of the reservation ledger set upon the side table in the small, dimly lit room that felt in some ways like a parlor given the decor.  Off to the left was a private powder room separate from the facilities for Passenger, where I quickly freshened up from my journey.  Within the door to the right was the sanctum sanctorum, the bar itself.  Along one length of the oblong room was the bar with ten seats, and along the opposite wall was a raised banquette.  In some ways, it felt like a theater where the bartenders performed behind the stick and everyone else in the room faced this stage.

Joining my friends already seated at the bar, I was first presented with a cool, damp towel, an extremely welcome refresher given the heat of the day.  Small gestures such as this really elevated the experience above and beyond the ordinary.  Another example of seemingly trivial details was that the drinking water even had a hint of cucumber, thoroughly refreshing.  By the time I sat down, the bartender was already hard at work crafting a round of drinks.

The first drink we were served was the DCA to LAX, a light, punch-like tipple with Cocchi Americano, lemon juice, cane syrup, crème de mûre, prosecco and a blackberry garnish.  The name was even rather apropos as Arthur was to be moving out to the west coast in a week's time.  Certainly seasonal, I found it a touch sweet, and I felt that a bit of gin perhaps may have given it more balance for my palate.

Second, we were presented with a cocktail that contained Bulleit rye, acid phosphate, wild cherry soda, Bitter Truth aromatic bitters and an orange twist (the name for which I failed to write down).  Accompanying this drink was a small plate of roasted and candied peanuts with dried cherries.  Cherries were the direct link, but the pairing went beyond that as the crunchy, caramelized, slightly spicy and buttery snack complemented the cocktail well.  The use of acid phosphate in this drink also stimulated a conversation with one of the bartenders, Katie, over Darcy O'Neil's book, Fix the Pumps, and a  recent New York Times article on the subject.

The last drink of the night is not set, unlike the previous two, and gives both the customer and the bartender a chance to explore further.  Casie started things off by ordering a Martini upon Katie's recommendation.  Made with equal parts Tanqueray No. 10 and Dolin Dry with a dash of orange bitters and a lemon twist, this martini was infinitely better than the one I had in the airport just a few hours prior.  In addition to the unusual proportions of gin to vermouth, the other notable feature of this preparation was the use of a thermometer such that the drink is stirred to a temperature of no greater than 31ºF.

Next, Arthur requested something with applejack since he is a fan of the Jack Rose, and Katie obliged with a Pink Lady.  Quite similar to the Jack Rose with applejack, lemon and grenadine, the addition of Plymouth gin and the white of an egg rather changes the complexion of the cocktail.  It is drier without losing the fragrance of the applejack.  Carlos then challenged Katie to make him something with rum, which resulted in the Getaway: Cruzan Blackstrap, lemon juice, Cynar and cane sugar syrup.  The richness of the Blackstrap was nicely balanced by the other ingredients, and the combination with the Cynar brought out somewhat of a smokiness.

When I asked for bartender's choice with open-ended parameters, Katie quickly asked whether I was up for something funky, to which I replied in the affirmative.  Whether its a rhum agricole from Martinique or George Clinton's Parliament, I do love funk.  The drink that resulted was a Mezcal Old-Fashioned made with Los Nahuales Blanco, chai-infused maple syrup and Bitter Truth Aromatic, Grapefruit, and Celery bitters.  While I have had other mezcal old-fashioned cocktails before, the different bitters and unique sweetener resulted in a novel experience.

Mezcal Old-Fashioned

Columbia Room was a pretty fantastic experience.  Small, quiet and intimate, this bar is one for serious tippling.  However, the gravitas therein did not obscure the camaraderie.  Katie, PJ and the other bartender whose name I did not catch were all very hospitable, and we all had a great time drinking and chatting.  Perhaps because we were seated in the very center of the bar, or perhaps because we were among the last people there at the end of the night, but I felt like we were spoiled with the amount of attention that we received.  My one complaint is that it is not cheap, but as with fine dining, one pays just as much for the atmosphere and service as one pays for the quality of food or drink.