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Jack Bettridge

From Scotland With Love

Posted: Apr 6, 2010 5:27pm ET

I don’t go to many runway fashion shows, but I’m glad I made an exception for Dressed to Kilt, New York’s annual celebration of all things Scottish, complete with celebrities modeling kilts. There is nothing like a show of nationality to get the blood stirring: proud countrymen dressed in the fine textiles of Northern Britain, eating the local delicacies (thankfully no haggis) and supporting a good cause (the Wounded Warrior Project).

All right, all right. I admit it. I went for the free Scotch. 

Glenfiddich was a sponsor and supplied the whisky as well as the talents of mixologist Charlotte Voisey, who created a trio of beguiling themed cocktails.

But that’s not to say I didn’t come away with a newfound respect for other things Scottish. A profusion of plaids and kilts was in evidence as guests were encouraged to dress for the “Mad for Scotland” theme. The women were bade to wear hats. Many kilts were in evidence, which I’ll admit could be a bit disconcerting when you entered what the sign said was the men’s lavatory, only to be greeted by a crowd of skirts.

Stars walked the runway in kilts and otherwise. Some had obvious Celtic connections—like Mike “if it’s not Scottish it’s crap” Myers, Alan Cumming, Kyle McLaughlin and Andie MacDowell. For others, such as Al Roker, the connection wasn’t as clear. But he danced a jig to prove his fealty to the Highlands. Joan Jett managed to make kilts look punk. Matthew Modine, sporting a huge tam, lugged a bike as well as a bottle of Glenfiddich. Country singer Kellie Pickler represented the Southern Scots. Perhaps strangest of all was Mercedes’ cosponsorship of the event with a plaid hybrid parked outside the venue: M2 Lounge.

Such British textile manufacturers as Begg, Holland & Sherry and Lochcarron lent their support as did such designers as Vivienne Westwood, Deryck Walker, Joey D and Judith R. Clark.

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Romanced by the Stone of Destiny

Posted: Feb 12, 2010 3:13pm ET
I thought they’d all been vanquished, but every once in a while you find one: the single-malt-whisky snob who talks smack about blended Scotch as if the latter had no business consorting with the former. I entertained one the other night.

I listened for a while, tempted to interject something about the palate-boggling experience I had recently been treated to with the Royal Salute 38-Year-Old Stone of Destiny. If my guest had only stopped prattling on for a moment about the “undeniable” superiority of some peat-bomb Islay he had just discovered, I might have let him have sip. Instead I told myself to let him remain blissful in his ignorance. And I'm the happier in not having wasted any of my small sample on a lout.

But I will share with you—if not a dram—my thoughts on it. In short, it's a mind scrambler.

This new release from Chivas Regal is the older brother of the company's standard Royal Salute (21 years old), which was already one of my favorite blended Scotches. The Stone of Destiny is the oldest Chivas has ever issued, save for a 50-year-old commemorative version released in 2003 to honor the 50th anniversary of Queen Elizabeth II's coronation. The Stone of Destiny tops the 50-year-old in one significant way: it is planned for continued production, while the other was a one-off edition.

Don’t expect your local store to be flooded with it, however. Brand ambassador Michael McLaren, who introduced me to the Stone of Destiny, explains that it is a limited allocation with only 600 bottles in the first release, with only a third of them coming to America. He says the company settled on 38 years old as an age at which it could continue to produce on a regular basis.

The whisky marries a dozen single malts with one grain whisky for an exceptionally high malt content. Barrels filled for the third and fourth time were used to achieve its advanced age without the whisky being overpowered by the wood. Once blended together the product was allowed to marry in barrels for two years.
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A Scotch Master Looks Back

Posted: Dec 21, 2009 6:54pm ET

What to call John Ramsay? His title is master blender. But given that that is a pretty common spirits-industry term defining a person who oversees blending, perhaps for Ramsay we need something more. It may seem redundant, but how about master master blender?

You see, John, who is now retiring from Scotland's Edrington Group after 43 years in the industry, is the genius behind the Glenrothes Vintage program as well as being the master blender of such prestige blends as Famous Grouse and Cutty Sark and one of the malt masters of The Macallan and Highland Park. And that's some pretty tall—well not cotton, but lets say—barley.

A couple of weeks ago, I tipped glasses with John who was doing sort of a farewell tour of New York. The obvious first question was what was his proudest of the many Scotch variants he has created. He mentioned The Macallan Fine Oak Collection and, of course, Glenrothes , but interestingly his final answer was not a single malt, but a blend. That would be his 30-year-old Famous Grouse, which topped an international spirits competition in 2007.

Asked about the number of whiskies he's designed, he rolled his eyes and said, "A lot, some successful, some come and gone." One of the main changes he notes in the industry over his more than four decades is the number of variants the market demands. "Every marketer and his dog seems to have it in his mind that he can make a whisky that will overtake the world." Few do, but Ramsay has had a hand in his share.

Another huge change occurring during Ramsay's career was the widening of the Scotch market, particularly in Asia, but also in the countries of the former Soviet Bloc. He said that he just come from a tour in the Czech Republic, where they have long been Highland Park fans and have recently been introduced to Glenrothes.

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Seeing Is Believing (In the Big Smoke)

Posted: Nov 24, 2009 12:25pm ET

My first Big Smoke came in New York in 1997, when I started at Cigar Aficionado, and it blew me away with the great smokes, drinks and food. But mostly it was the fun and camaraderie of the guests that struck me. Here were all these stogie fans having a great time celebrating their passion for smoke and knowing they were with like-minded people. I thought: "It don't get much better than this."

So I guess you could say I was unprepared later that same year at my first Big Smoke Las Vegas where I saw all those same qualities amped up by a power of 10. Well, knock me over again, because I've just returned from the 14th Big Smoke Las Vegas and the event hasn't lost one quantum of enthusiasm—from the guys who line up hours before the doors open to the to those who treat it like a costume party to those who come as a club, a team and, in one case, a syndicate. Check out these flip videos I took as proof (and hold on until the end to see an enthusiasm of a different stripe):


Also, I read someone griping on the forums about the quality of drinking at this year's Big Smoke. Maybe he went to a different event than I did, but this video (and my inability to keep my hand steady while recording it) seems to suggest a preponderance of evidence to the contrary. Not only could you drink well, but if you went to the Patrón Tequila you could get your picture taken with young lovelies. Whatever happens in Vegas…well, you know the rest:
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The Joy of Smoking—and Shaving

Posted: Nov 9, 2009 11:06am ET
One day last week, a number of early-morning contretemps—including my daughter’s locking herself out of her bedroom—conspired to make me leave home without shaving lest I miss my train. I considered that I might just let it go for the day, thinking no one would really be scandalized by my stubble. I even asked Dave Savona if was that noticeable, which he didn’t think was, but then again he hadn’t shaved for years. By lunch, I decided a trip to the barber was in order.

I’m glad I did as my lunchtime adventure taught me two things: the value of self-indulgence and how much a professional shave is like a fine cigar.

The first concept, I’ll confess, was not a major revelation on my part as it's an idea that Cigar Aficionado has been directly or indirectly preaching from the outset: The Good Life is good, and you should take time and resource to treat yourself to it once in a while. But that is also something that we must remind ourselves of every once in a while (especially when you're het up from spending 15 minutes finding an Allen wrench and taking your daughter’s bedroom door handle off). In this case, the good-old-fashioned barber shave, while nothing to compare to the performance cars that you pay for in private islands and that we sometimes feature between the covers of our magazine, is a sweet little example of indulgence.

The second concept dawned on me because, in truth, I started the experience by ignoring the importance of the first concept. I arrived at the barber’s thinking I would rush through this so I could get a bite to eat before returning to my desk. I was even thinking I should get some reading done as sat in the barber’s chair. Of course, while you might read during a haircut, while being shaved it is quite impossible. Nevertheless, I began the ministrations of my tonsorialist with a distinct lets-get-this-over-with mindset. But once I got the hot towel on my face, it struck me that hurry was not in the program. The barber walked away and let me ruminate on that with my eyes closed. Once I gave into the idea that I was going to be there for a while, a great feeling of relaxation came over me and I submitted to the special attentions, the lotions and potions being rubbed into my skin, the careful going over with a precisely honed razor.
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Cîroc To Show Its Flavor

Posted: Nov 4, 2009 2:13pm ET
I wrote in Cigar Aficionado’s Good Life Guide not too long ago (June 2009) about the wide array of flavored vodkas that are available, but at press time I was unapprised of two new efforts from one of my favorite vodkas that are soon to be released. So I wanted to remedy that lapse in this space:

Cîroc is making flavored vodkas—Red Berry and Coconut—for the first time. The French vodka was already one of the first to be made with grapes, and its characteristic softness comes through on these two flavored versions.

Jean-Sebastien Robicquet, the creator and master distiller of Cîroc, recently showed off his latest innovations. Red Berry melds strawberry and raspberry into a sweet, yet creamy, combination. Coconut is predominantly flavored with that spice (one of only two vodkas so flavored), but also includes some tropical fruit flavors. The first is jammy, but not cloying. The second has a very polished texture. Both are flavored with natural ingredients, distilled to 70 proof and sell for $34.99 in the 750 ml bottle.

For Robicquet, who hails from the French vineyards, between the cities of Bordeaux and Cognac, all the Cîroc vodkas were a labor of love. He chose mauzac blanc and ugni blanc grapes (the second being the main varietal from which Cognac is made) and distilled the resulting wine five times, the last go-round in a pot still. The company has also created a range of cocktails for the vodkas. Of course, that wasn't enough for yours truly. Still Robicquet was polite and didn't kick, when I insisted on mixing the two flavors (the result of which was excellent by the way).

I'll let Jean-Sebastien tell you more in his own words on the following video:
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The Joy of Finishing Last

Posted: Oct 27, 2009 11:42am ET
I could still taste the tangerine the next morning.

Eighteen hours had passed since I’d first tasted Bowmore Gold and the last tasting note was just getting finished on my palate. There are arenas where it’s best to come in last, and the world of hyperpremium Scotch whisky is one of them.

The place was the New York location of Charlie Palmer’s Aureole.

The occasion was an unveiling of the final act in Bowmore’s triology of releases of prize whisky kept from when Morrison Bowmore bought the Islay distillery in 1964.

The menu was I don’t remember.

I know the food was good because the chef was Charlie Palmer. But its memory has been overshadowed by a presence that will not be ignored. What still stands out in my mind a week later is the whisky and its exquisite tasting notes: fruits and nuts, spices and herbs, confections even, and, of course, the aforesaid tangerine.

My point—other than just to brag about being one of the few who has tasted this astounding whisky—is that spirits that have attained a heavenly tier—the kind you cash in your certificates of deposit to pay for—earn their keep with their epilogues. Be it whisky or brandy or Bourbon or rum, the best hang on for hours after you drink it to remind of how good they were or maybe morph into new flavors you hadn’t thought when they were on your tongue.

They should when they cost $6,250—which is the suggested retail price for each of the 701 bottles of Bowmore Gold available worldwide. (The triology of Bowmore Black, White and Gold is also going to be available at the Christie's New York spirits auction on November 14 and is expected to bring between $18,000 and $24,000.) Whether that is worth it is between you and your pocketbook, but there is no denying some spirits have achieved a plane of their own.

When it still tastes good the next day, you've probably encountered one.
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Glenmorangie and More

Posted: Sep 16, 2009 2:52pm ET
I had the pleasure of attending a luncheon yesterday that paired a selection of Glenmorangie single-malt Scotches, as well as the Ardbeg Uigeadail, with a slew of food, which included a shrimp dish, chicken, pâté de foie gras, a selection of excellent tomatoes and even French fries. I always love the chance to drink spirits—whisky, brandy, rum, even gin—along with food, and happily attended especially since it was arranged by Jeffrey Pogash. Jeff, who works for the Glenmorangie importer, Moet Hennessey, has long been a champion of this sort of meal and knows just how to put it together. (A column I wrote on spirits and food matching is in the October 15, 2009, issue of Wine Spectator, if you're looking for more insight.)

I was not disappointed. Glenmorangie, a pioneer in whiskies with Sherry-barrel finishes, makes particularly floral spirits that lend themselves well to the process. However, the real bonus of the meal was the attendance by Bill Lumsden, the Glenmorangie master distiller. Bill introduced Sonnalta PX, the first expression in the private collection, and had this to say about it:

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Of Maverick, Cigars and the Tube

Posted: Aug 26, 2009 3:51pm ET
No, this isn't a blog about Sarah Palin and cylindrical, metal packages for storing cigars. Rather, it involves watching cigars on television. Specifically, the classic Western "Maverick."

As discussed in a previous blog, cigar smoking on television or in the movies always captures my attention. That is especially true when the cigar is an important prop in the action and it is used more creatively—and positively—than the stereotype of popping a perfecto in the character's mouth to make it clear that he is a gangster or some other villain. Cigars in the negative were done to death using Edward G. Robinson and then later in the Courageous Cat cartoon with Chauncey Frog, who was clearly based on Robinson. (I will admit, however, that one of the greatest cigars scenes of all time is in a gangster movie: Albert Finney shooting up his rivals with a submachine gun between puffs in Miller's Crossing.)

Anyway, my guiltiest television pleasure of late has been watching old episodes of "Maverick," which currently are airing several times a day on the Encore Westerns cable network. The show is a treasure trove of positive cigar sightings as the main characters (read: the good guys) smoke them in almost every episode. It wasn't unusual that characters smoked on TV during this show's era (late '50s-early '60s), but mainly what you saw were cigarettes, which must have pleased many sponsors (tobacco ads were still allowed on television at that time). On "Maverick" what you had was smoking that wasn't advertising driven, especially as—in historical accuracy—the cigars in question didn't sport labels, because brands weren't much in fashion in the late nineteenth century. What you see for the most part are stogies—the real stogies, named for Conestoga wagon drivers, that were long and tapered at either end. Occasionally, they smoke Cubans—mainly when the plot line calls for an expensive cigar.
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What I Did on My Summer Stay-cation

Posted: Aug 21, 2009 12:39pm ET

I didn’t end up making the aforementioned trip to Kentucky to see the cooperage operation for Brown-Forman, but I also didn’t go to Niagara Falls as my wife had schemed. Where the family actually went (after much begging from my daughter Grace, who is fascinated by all things historical) was Mystic Seaport. At the other end of Connecticut from where I live, it was an easy day trip into a time that occurred many days ago (more than a century would be closer).

Mystic may now be more famous for the cheese pies for which the movie Mystic Pizza was named and for which daughter Abigail begged, but in the nineteenth century it was a bustling whaling port. Now the Seaport historical area ( is a recreation of a New England port town, replete with ships, large and small, and the shops, buildings and homes that would have lined the streets.

Lo and behold, it also contains a working cooperage as most goods—notably whale oil--were shipped in wood casks at the time. While the demonstration wasn’t specific to whiskey (as is the one in Kentucky), it was nevertheless educational and dealt with some really old-school coopering as it was all done with hand tools in that era.

Photo by Grace Bettridge

For some reason, the Mystic cooperage does house a whiskey barrel (this specimen was filled with Early Times—coincidentally a Brown-Forman product—in 1972), but it also carries a mélange of other size casks used for stowing other goods.

The term barrel in the coopering world more properly refers to a cask size than a general term for a wood storage devices. For most purposes a barrel is around 31½ gallons, which is twice the size of the typical metal keg in which beer comes. In the whiskey world, however, a barrel is about 53 gallons. The sizes aren’t well standardized, especially since they mean different things in different countries. A hogshead at twice the size of a normal barrel (63 gallons) is what they used for storing tobacco. Wine typically shipped in pipes, or butts, at twice again that size.

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