water of life

In September I was privileged to be hosted on a personal tour of Glenglassaugh by Ronnie Routledge. A fascinating look behind the scenes of this recently reopened distillery on the Moray coast, ending with a delicious sampling of drams from their clearac to a 30+ year old. Glenglassaugh "Revival" is a dram to seek out, from a distillery to watch.

One of the more interesting stories Ronnie told about the early history of the distillery was that of its water. Apparently there was a time when Glenglassaugh was intended to reproduce the flavour profile of the whisky produced at The Glenrothes in Speyside. Although the differences in water chemistry were known ahead of time, the ramifications were not fully realized until the new make coming off the still was found to be quite different as well. After many attempts at doctoring the production water, success was only found by actually transporting it from The Glenrothes itself, some 30 miles distant.

Should there be any question about the level of importance of water in the making of whisky, this anecdote surely goes a long way toward an answer.

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barrels

In the long history of whisky making, wood has perhaps travelled the furthest along the distiller's continuum of understanding as to its importance to and influence on the final product. Born of the need simply to contain and transport the whisky maker's art, it is now exhaulted as one of the major contributors to the flavours we have come to love. So much so that distilleries like Glenmorangie actually select their own oak from trees growing in the Ozark Mountains of Missouri where it will begin its life as barrels maturing American whiskey or bourbon.

And though the distiller appreciates the barrel for the qualities of its wood, I appreciate it for the qualities of its shape and form...the smooth flowing line of the circle, the rhythm of repetition, the stories it tells by its grizzled exterior and stencilled tatoos. They're fun to photograph.

Bruichladdich barrels after the rain.

Arran barrels.

Glenora, Canada's single malt distiller on Cape Breton Island, Nova Scotia.

Balvenie barrel hoops.

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...and Happy Hogmanay

more heat

I got thinking more about heat after my last post and realized just how prevalent it is in the whisky making process, and that I'd overlooked some of my photographs reflecting the subject which may be of interest to you. So I guess this is part two.

A couple of the photos have an annoying lens shadow at the bottom of the image, for which I apologize. I would normally not hesitate to excise such offences to my aesthetic sensibilities, however I felt that the subject matter would have suffered somewhat if I had cropped them out. So be it...I'll just have to do the suffering with a cringe or two every time I see them.

Forsyth's, in the town of Rothes in Speyside, have been crafting the lions share of Scotch whisky distillery equipment since the end of the nineteenth century. Dad and I were lucky enough to be graciously hosted by Mr. Richard Forsyth on a very interesting tour of the factory. I suspect this is the upper section of a still in the making. After having been heated by another coppersmith with a torch, this chap is beating the red hot metal into shape. The outer shell of a condenser is lying on the floor behind him.

Bowmore is one of the few remaining distilleries to floor malt some of their own barley. While germinating, the barley produces heat which must be regulated by turning over with wide flat shovels and raking, which is being done here. This also prevents the emerging rootlets from tangling into an unmanageable clump. As you can see, this process is quite labour intensive and back breaking so it is also done by machine.

This is a rare sight - too bad I messed it up with a shadow (cringe #1!). The inside of Springbank's wash still with one of the few rummagers in existence. When a still was (is, in this case) directly fired with an open flame from below, as all stills used to be, there needed to be a method of preventing the contents from scorching. This was achieved by the rummager, a strip of copper chain mail which revolved inside the still in order to stir and scrape the bottom, not unlike what needs to be done when you make your porridge on the stove. This still is also heated by steam which travels through the pipes seen around the circumference.

The interior of a Glen Scotia still. The silver pots radiate heat from steam inside the pipes which can be seen just below the liquid surface. They, of course, would be covered when the still is in full tilt boogie mode (one of the lesser known whisky distilling terms!...and an obtuse shoutout to Canadian backup bands everywhere!!).

The charring of the inside surface of whisky barrels is done in a couple of ways. At the Speyside Cooperage where they refabricate zillions of barrels for the Scotch whisky industry, the barrels are stood upright with no ends above a furnace which blasts a huge flame through the barrel like a chimney. Very cool sight. This photograph, however, is from the cooperage at the Balvenie where they do all their own barrel work on site. You're looking at the end of a barrel on its side, through a window I might add, which is being spun round by the two rollers at the bottom of the image. A flame is then blasted into the open end facing away from us, which can be seen shooting out the bung hole. It, too, is a pretty cool sight to see.

This is one of my favourite barrel images, so I'm glad to be able to share it with you to end off this post. It is a triptych of Bruichladdich barrels, with one showing the result of the interior charring (or maybe it's from all of my hot air floating about!).


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