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Drinks: Battle at the Bar

By Jack Bettridge

The peat bogs of Scotland are where whisky gets its characteristic smoky flavor. The decayed vegetable fuel is what Scotsmen have traditionally used to toast their barley in preparation for fermentation. Amazingly, that first step in the process leaves its mark through fermentation, distillation and years of aging. When a bottle of 21-year-old malt from Islay is uncorked, there is no mistaking the smoking that it went through when it was in but a larval stage. So what better complement for smoke but more smoke?

At least that's how I used to think. That argument, regardless of its tidy logic, does not take into account varying levels of peat, and that compatibility of a malt with a fine cigar often bears no relationship to that level. It was while drinking an unpeated single-malt Scotch that I had this revelation. Despite its lack of peat, the Scotch was running perfectly with the cigar, filling in where its partner left off and becoming greater for its exposure to the cigar's own smokiness, its own lack of smoke flavors notwithstanding. I realized that attributing any one quality to Scotch's tantalizing relationship with cigars would be futile, even counterproductive.

Scotch may be the cigar smoker's biggest challenge. Some 95 different distilleries dot Scotland. They are located in every microclimate the country has to offer. Most distilleries offer several different expressions. On top of that almost every single-malt is used as part of a Scotch blend of which there are hundreds. Add in the vatted malts that are regularly created by whisky alchemists, and you start to see that you will never taste every cigar with every Scotch. That is not a bad thing. It is a testament to the spirit's status as the most varied of the brown goods. As many distinct Scotch flavors exist as there are places in Scotland, and there is cause to drink almost every one of them. They won't all render an inspiring cigar matchup, but you'll have fun finding the ones that do.

While all single-malt Scotch is made from pure barley, the similarities effectively end there. As mentioned above, varying amounts of peat are introduced in the malting process. After a beer is made of the grain, it is refined in a pot still. Each distillery has a distinctly shaped still, and every distiller will argue that his is best for making whisky. The raw spirit goes into an oak barrel for the long sleep that will give it its subtlety. The barrel it is placed in is up to the discretion of the maker. It can be put in a used Bourbon barrel or one that previously held Sherry or a combination of barrels.

Furthermore, whisky varies tremendously depending on where it ages. The country comprises five distinct whisky regions -- Speyside, Lowlands, Highlands, Campbeltown and Islay -- and within those even smaller microclimates impart their own flavors to whisky. It doesn't take much of a palate to discern the difference between a malt that came of age amongst the heather of a cunning little glen in the Highlands and one that had its formative years in the salt spray that washes over Islay on the western coast of Scotland.

Special finishing is a trend that introduces even more diversity to the mix. A whisky that spent 15 years in a Bourbon barrel might get a year or so in a Claret, Port or Madeira cask, all of which further adds to the possibilities of flavor, as well as the cigar-smoking combinations.

Some purists rail at the liberties currently being taken by Scotch makers, but I would argue that the sense of tradition to which they cleave does not exist. Before the 1820s, Scotch whisky was a largely illicit trade, practiced by moonshiners and marketed by smugglers. Any aging that was done was probably by accident. Even when legal changes made it easier to operate in the open, little market existed for Scotch whisky before news of the blends spread to the rest of the world. By this time much of Scotland's timber had been cleared, forcing makers to used discarded barrels from other uses. It wasn't until American Prohibition ended in the 1930s that the Bourbon barrel became the cask of choice. A global market for single-malts as opposed to blends didn't even exist until at least the 1960s. So much for hundreds of years of single-malt tradition.

It is not, however, production methods, but a tenacious character that defines Scotch's fiercest tradition. The Scots adapt their drink to the vicissitudes of history and thereby make a strong match for cigars. Distillers held on through centuries of legal repression. When opportunity knocked in the guise of a grape virus that temporarily wiped out Cognac production, they made hay by capturing the London market that also happens to be one of the most important cigar markets. It is hard to keep a spirit like that down. Taste the spirit.

SINGLE MALTS

THE DALMORE CIGAR MALT The Dalmore succeeds at creating a malt for cigars (medium to full body) with a whisky that shows plenty of yeast and peat on the nose, but honey and fruit on the tongue.

THE GLENLIVET ARCHIVE This 21-year-old from the Highland's oldest legal distillery is a crafty serpent of a malt that is all sweetness and flowers on the nose, then shows its wood, peat and cocoa on the tongue. Let it wind its way around a full-bodied smoke.

ARDBEG 10-YEAR-OLD Not chill-filtered like most Scotch, Ardbeg shows plenty of the smoke and iodine of a typical peaty, salt-sprayed Islay malt. Also look for honey and char. Needs a big cigar to stand up to it.

ABERLOUR 15-YEAR-OLD Bourbon casks meet Sherry in this Speyside malt and spin nuts and honey, sweetness and light. Mild- to medium-bodied; best enjoyed with a like-bodied cigar.

BOWMORE Bowmore of Islay is doing some of the most interesting work in the trend of alternative finishes. Dusk adds Claret aging, Voyage is Port-finished, Darkest rests in Sherry casks and Mariner is traditional Bourbon. Smoke with full-bodied.

GLEMROTHES 1987 VINTAGE A core in several great blends, Glenrothes bottles singles as a 12-year-old vintage. This one packs peat smoke, caramel and walnut with an anise finish. Smoke medium to full body.

GLENMORANGIE SINGLE HIGHLAND 15-YEAR-OLD The nose is floral and candied, the flavor bread dough and butterscotch, the finish long and elegant. Finds cocoa on a full-bodied smoke.

MACALLAN GRAN RESERVA 18-YEAR-OLD Sherry-cask aging creates a deep-colored whisky full of maple sugar, rum, wood, toast, macadamia and cashews. Still balanced and intense. Boosts nuts and leather in a full-bodied smoke.

GLENGOYNE SCOTTISH OAK WHISKEY A finish in rare Scottish oak distinguishes this unpeated whisky. The experiment works. Oak, honey, nuts, raisins and chocolate, with licorice and toast finish. Sweetens a cigar.

LAPHORAIG 15-YEAR-OLD A classic Islay with all the iodine and sea spray to prove it. The 15-year-old has honey and oak charms missing in the austere 10-year-old.

GLENFIDDICH SPECIAL RESERVE 12 YEAR OLD The malt that won America. Mainstream, yes, but full of honey, cream and fruit flavors and a whiff of peat. Pair mild to medium.

TALISKER 25 YEAR OLD Peat and sea salt meet honey and fruit in this boomer (near 120 proof) of an Isle of Skye malt. Light up a huge one.

BLENDS

CHIVAS REGAL 18-YEAR-OLD Beguiling floral nose, with tastes of fruit, herbs, spice and candy. Full-bodied cigars add leather and cashews. Royal Salute, the 21-year old, is exquisitely complex.

DEWAR'S SPECIAL RESERVE Dewar's 12-year-old is much fuller than its standard White Label, with peat, honey and maple syrup flavors that make it a much better match for cigars than its little brother.

THE FAMOUS GROUSE GOLD RESERVE This 12-year-old Grouse has additional complexity and a stronger role for malts. Tastes of honey, rum, burnt nuts and French bread. Smoke medium to full body.

JOHNNIE WALKER Lack of an age statement belies the maturity of the Blue Label. Fruit and honey harmonize with wood, salt and peat. Pair full-bodied. The 18-year-old Gold Label isn't as complex or peaty, but makes up for it with a chewy, toasty, nutty character. Pair medium to full. Twelve-year-old Black Label pairs mild to medium.

CUTTY SARK A bright whisky, created for light tastes. Floral nose with a hint of sour wine. Peaty on the palate with chewy bread dough and almost no sweetness. Pair mild to medium.

Bourbon

Bourbon lacks a convenient niche by which to claim a strong cigar affinity. It's not made side by side with fine cigars like rum. (Bourbon's birthplace, Kentucky, is famous for cigarettes). It doesn't have Cognac's tradition of being sipped at elegant affairs. (Bourbon is associated with card games and horse races.) It doesn't get peat-smoked, aged for 25 years and feted in the parlors of London like Scotch. (Bourbon gets no smoke; 10 years is pretty old by its standards; until recently, a call for Bourbon in an English bar would get a glassy stare.)

No, nothing seems to argue in favor of Bourbon -- except the taste buds. The sweet, woody, creamy spirit which is Bourbon just seems to pair well with a wide range of cigars. When you scratch the surface of how the whiskey is made, this begins to makes a lot more sense.

First of all, distilling tradition is a great part of the end product. Eighteenth-century Scotch and Irish immigrants to America brought their stills and know-how with them. Eventually many headed west to Kentucky. When they arrived, they added a key component to any successful cigar/spirit interaction: sweetness. Without abundant barley and rye, they made whiskey with the local grain, corn, a far sweeter ingredient. The water was naturally filtered by a great limestone shelf.

Second, folklore tells us that serendipity added the next integral part of the formula. A Baptist minister who dabbled in distilling was cleaning a barrel with kerosene, the story goes, when it caught on fire. He doused the fire and used the cask anyway. He discovered that the charring of the inside brought out the charms of the wood much faster than normal aging. A tradition was born. Significantly, the aging was being done in Kentucky, where sweltering summers expand the whiskey into the layer of wood char, and chilly winters draw it together with the attendant flavors, back into the barrel. That explains the dearth of superannuated Bourbons.

If I were posed the same conundrum as mentioned in the section under rum -- blindfolded at a bar with a cigar and asked to make a house call based on type of spirit -- I'd make mine Bourbon.Why? Because it is the most consistent of brown goods. First, it is made in a small area of Kentucky that offers much the same climatic conditions throughout. Second, strict legal boundaries define how straight Bourbon whiskey may be made: the grain formula, or mash bill, must be corn rich (more than 50 percent, barley and rye or wheat make up the rest); distillation can be no greater than 160 proof (usually it's much lower), which insures retention of flavor from the grains, and the product must be aged a minimum of two years. (If it isn't at least four years old the label must say so, but practically none do.) Furthermore, aging must be done in new charred, white oak barrels. (The stipulation that they must be new explains why so many used barrels make their way into other uses.) And nothing but water can be added to the final product when it goes into the bottle. Both Cognac and Scotch makers can color their spirit, and rum can be flavored. Bourbon is pretty much what-you-see-is-what-you-get.

Despite the bad reputation Bourbon suffered after Prohibition (it took years to get quality products back on the shelf), Bourbon makers in the last two decades have taken a page from the Scotch makers. They have worked hard to create products that show their artistry at its utmost and most interesting levels. Small-batch and single-barrel Bourbons are part of this revolution. Most are very good with a cigar.

We would be remiss in not mentioning Bourbon's two American cousins, rye and Tennessee sour mash whiskey. The former has a longer tradition in this country than Bourbon. Settlers in Maryland and Pennsylvania found it easy to grow rye and made whiskey rich in that grain before they ever thought of corn liquor. With rye composing more than half its mash bill, it has a spicier, grainier complexion with subtleties that often enhance the enjoyment of a milder cigar. Tennessee sour mash whiskey is the category into which Jack Daniel's falls. Even though it shares most of the characteristics of a Bourbon and is often mistaken for one, Jack Daniel's (along with its lesser known neighbor George Dickel) is differentiated by its mellowing charcoal filtering. All of the above share the legal stipulations of straight whiskey, making them consistently great cigar accompaniments. Enjoy the whiskey patriotism.

WOODFORD RESERVE Made from the "honey barrels" of Brown-Forman's Old Forester, this whiskey is a confection of maple sugar, cherry, vanilla and caramel, tempered with meat and smoke. Smoke full bodied.

BOOKER'S TRUE BARREL Unfiltered and uncut, it's about 125 proof, and loaded with orange, leather, vanilla, nuts and honey. Sublime with a big cigar, death to the mild.

KNOB CREEK The anchor of Jim Beam's Small Batch collection, Knob is creamy and informed by vanilla, maple and caramel with a hint of orange. Invites a wider range of cigars than big brother Booker.

WILD TURKEY Hard to choose between WT's excellent superpremium range-Rare Breed (floral with caramel, orange, licorice and maple), Kentucky Spirit (as candied, but meater) and Russell's Reserve (the spicier offering) -- so we won't. Smoke medium to full.

BLANTON'S SINGLE BARREL The original single-barrel Bourbon, Blanton's paints a wide swath between fruity pear flavor to strong woods and a touch of grittiness. Finds a range of good cigar matches.

MAKER'S MARK Maple sweet, orange and vanilla flavored and solidly medium bodied. Pairs well with a wide range of cigars.

EVAN WILLIAMS SINGLE BARREL VINTAGE 1992 Vintage concept brings yearly variations within a medium-bodied profile. This last bottling is stronger in spice, but still sweet with orange and maple.

JACK DANIEL'S SINGLE BARREL A Tennessee sour mash whiskey, Jack Daniel's is filtered through charcoal, leaving it with orange and caramel notes and no rough edges. Exceptional with milder cigars.

OLD OVERHOLT RYE Inexpensive straightforward rye with nutmeg/
vanilla sweetness and a toasty balance. Good all-around cigar partner.

OLD RIP VAN WINKLE OLD TIME RYE A 12-year-old with oaken, yeasty flavor, as well as butter and olive oil. Pair medium to full.

SAZERAC KENTUCKY STRAIGHT RYE WHISKEY At 18 years, smooth and honeyed, with Cognac character and minty, eucalyptus spice. Full-bodied leathery cigars pair best.

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