Recently in Coorg on vacation, I looked up at the sky, and the privilege of being stared back by a million dazzling stars was just too much to take in for my Delhi-choked life. Like always, such grandeur of envisioning a world vast and beyond always leaves me heavy in the throes of an existential crisis. That or the lack of a 4G network – both.
In the midst of all those ‘why are we here’ and ‘what does it all matter’ questions, I can’t help but wonder about the pettiness that we occupy ourselves with. How we allow ourselves to fall for beliefs and notions that are nothing but a man-made construct. Religion. Time. Money. And somewhere down the pecking order, the belief that whisky is superior to whiskey.
Now, we understand the purist’s obsession with single malts and the special scoff they reserve for anything that isn’t. One is also not entirely unfamiliar with the new, almost-hipster Bourbon brigade, who put down the Scotch enthusiasts like an endangered species. And let’s not forget the new-age revolutionaries who will back any whisky (or whiskey) as long as it comes from a seemingly obscure country: India. Iceland. Italy. Even France! How about Tasmania down under?
But we often forget a country that sits on the cusp of all these factions: Irish whiskey. While it is true that most famous Irish distilleries were set up by Scotsmen, let’s not forget that, historically, the art of distilling was brought by Irish monks to the Gaelic Bravehearts in the first place.
That said, the Irish style of whiskey is unique and very different from any else found around the world. To generalise, Scotch tends to be smoky and toasty, and Bourbon, at the other end of the spectrum, leans towards vanilla and butterscotch, and most other styles (Japanese and such) emulate one of the two with the local weather and master blender providing the nuanced differentiation.
Irish whiskey then, by the same generalisation, is fairly neutral. It is smooth without being toasty, fruity without being ripe. It doesn’t do peat, nor does it do new charred casks. Their idea of whiskey is to make a flavourful easy beverage that does well by itself and also marries well in cocktails. It should appeal to the novice, but also have complexity enough to engage the seasoned tippler. Recently, I was privy to an extended tasting by a popular Irish whiskey brand, Jameson, and these notes are pretty much from my scribbles on that evening.
But flavour aside, what I really like about them is how they have chosen to reach out to their patrons: no stuffy tastings, no elaborate meal pairings, or men in kilts being paraded through banquets full of thirsty aficionados. Instead, they are looking at more contemporary events and animations to engage people. Even an underground music fest was fair ground for them! Who would have thought that one day we would be enjoying the up-tempo beats of top international DJs with a measure of Jameson and ginger ale?
And that is precisely how we should take life: always ready for the unexpected. To enjoy each unanticipated moment without classifying or judging. And as long as the glass has a double pour in it, don’t worry whether it’s whisky or whiskey.
