Streams of Whisky.

Here’s a guest post from David Maguire,  fellow Leeds Savage, man about town, and film extra, who describes himself as, “Journalist and spin doctor does not make me ‘scum of the earth’ alright?! Avid writer/Leeds Savage/Mr Potato Head collector in my spare time…. ” . . . obviously a tad touchy about his chosen profession then . . .

“Take it! Take it in the mouth!”

It’s not every night a man tells me to do that in a Leeds pub (well, not the pubs I frequent), but as my friend giggled and typed these words into her phone’s Facebook status, I diligently followed his instruction to the letter – and continued with the free whisky tasting session.

Now “free” and “whisky” are not words you often find associated with each other, but by God, they should be! It should be mandatory!

So, knowing it was a dirty job but that someone had to do it, I braved the cold and rain to venture to Mr Foley’s at the bottom of the Headrow to partake in the Diageo’s drinkypoos party for skint alcoholics – I mean, gathering of connoisseurs of the finest Scottish malt whiskies.

The audience was a mixed bag of barflies: some were genuine firewater aficionados, one couple briefly came up for air to sample the sweet succour before returning to snogging their faces off, and then there were the likes of me, people whose expert knowledge of whisky is simply knowing which supermarkets stock the cheapest budget bottles.

The worst thing about the night was the anticipation – looking at the whisky, but not being allowed to drink it. Not at first anyway. We were all issued with plastic place mats (no, not to capture the dribbling) which came with four circles for us to place our glasses on. These circles corresponded to something ‘booze scientists’ like to refer to as ‘The Single Malt Whisky Flavour Map’. Using the vertical axis, one is able to plot how smoky the spirit is (with flavours principally from the peat-smoke used in drying the barley), down to the delicate malts (that don’t use peat-smoke). On the horizontal axis, whiskies are plotted as to how light (fresh fruit and green grass flavours) or how rich they are (ranging from vanilla to nuttiness and dried fruits).

Bet you’re impressed at how I can remember all that after being plied with generous portions of Headrow hooch aren’t you? Well so am I (oh, wait, I’m copying it off the leaflet I picked up…).

First to sniff, roll around in the glass and swish around the gums (yes, that’s what you do!), was the Glenkinchie 12 year old. And it went down a treat, warming the mouth and belly and making you thirsty for more.

Next was the Dalwhinnie 15 year old. I wasn’t a big fan of this, but, for the sake of this article, I downed it all to make sure. By now I was feeling nice and fuzzy. As the third one came along – the Talisker 10 year old – I really couldn’t remember any of the whisky histories the Diageo ambassador was relaying. Anyway, the Talisker was a nice malt, even if it did smell and taste like something you might encounter in an operating room.

By the time the last dwinky rolled up (or was that me that was rolling?) – the Singleton of Dufftown – the atmosphere in the room was as merry and as cordial as a swingers party. The Singleton was definitely the Daddy of the night. Rich, sweet, fruity. But enough about me.

Now for the real question: would I be tempted away from my usual supermarket paint stripper by one of Diageo’s fancy malts? Well, with my money off voucher in hand, I’ll definitely be looking to be reacquainted with the Singleton of Dufftown (is it me, or does that sound like an American arthouse pic?). And he and I will spend Christmas together and become bestest friends.

I just wish I could remember all the fascinating facts the Diageo rep told us during the evening. Strangely, I couldn’t remember much of anything the morning after….

END