Alexandersmap

    Tag: Scotch

    • Several Fires Left in the Pile

      I lit a Sunday evening fire outside on the brick patio last night. This is two Sundays in a row, almost a trend. Last week was bear in the woods fireside Sunday. This week no such excitement, just the observation that the days are getting shorter and colder. If I were a bear I’d be finding a nice place to hibernate deep in the woods. Hopefully someone else’s woods.

      Last night began with reading outside in the fading twilight. This time of year that’s earlier in the evening than I’d like it to be, but the side benefit is it gave me the inspiration to gather pine cones and fallen branches to start a fire. Living amongst the trees we have little reason to use fire starter blocks or crumpled up newspaper to start a fire, and yet I opt for the simple route too frequently. It was good to get reacquainted with starting a fire without assistance from manmade products. I conceded the lighter instead of flint. I mean, I’m not on Survivor here.

      With pine cones and kindling crackling and erupting into a small fire, I gathered firewood of various sizes, assessing the size of the wood pile and calculating how many more fires I’ve got in it before a refresh is required. My math tells me about 30 Sunday night’s worth. Unless Tom comes over and takes command of the fire stacking, in which case we may have half that number. Tom likes a big fire. And with the cold air creeping behind I see the benefits myself and stack this one a bit taller than normal as a nod to warmer glows and good friendships.

      Stacking firewood is an act of faith. You expect to be given the time to use all that wood and start a new stack. All we can do is prepare for the future, we aren’t guaranteed we’ll arrive at the party. But so far we have. Surely a cause for celebration. Since we’ve been given this opportunity, why not make the most of it? I add logs to the fire and watch it roar in appreciation. And I in turn appreciate the warming glow.

      Fire established, a dram of scotch poured, and playlist rolling, I read I few pages more and put the book aside. There was nothing more to do but contemplate the work accomplished over the weekend and the objectives that lie ahead for the coming week. What will the week bring? Tasks accomplished and boxes checked? Conversations with people of substance and depth? What can I control and what must I let wash over me? Such are the thoughts of a fireside chat with yourself.

      My son came out and joined me. We talked of his own plans for the week ahead. He brought a flashlight out, just in case that bear should crunch through the woods again. No such luck this day. Instead we tracked the planets pirouetting across the sky: Bright Jupiter and Saturn with a faint Pluto to the south, red Mars rising in the east. The cold descended on the backyard and I added two logs to the fire and a wool hat to my head. Soon my bride joined us and we talked until the pile burned down to glowing embers. Another Sunday evening, and several fires left in the pile.

    • Ulsce Beatha: Water of Life

      It’s a cold and rainy Friday morning in New England, and my thoughts turn to Scotland.  I spent a similarly wet day trying to be outdoors on Isle of Skye last November.  The goal all along in Scotland was for a generous mix of outdoor activities.  Plan B was to visit distilleries when Mother Nature turned her back on us.  And so it was that when the sky was full of cold water in Skye we went to Talisker.  We capped the trip with a very intentional visit to Speyside and the Glenfiddich and Balvenie Distilleries. We didn’t go to Scotland to drink our way around, but we made a point of visiting distilleries in each region we found ourselves in.  If castles and battle sites teach you the history of the place, distilleries teach you the entrepreneurial spirit and patience of the Scots.

      Two things you realize quickly when you’re on distillery tours is that you never have enough time to see all of them and it’s best to have a designated driver if you want to immerse yourselves in the process.  Alas, I was the designated driver and time wasn’t on our side to see everything.  But we managed three hours at Balvenie for a magical tour that I highly recommend.  Off-peak tours are especially enlightening as you have a little more elbow room and an opportunity to dwell in special places.

      The Gaelic Ulsce Beatha, pronounced “ish-ka ba-ha”, translates to “water of life”.  Similar to the Latin Aqua Vitae.  Whisky distilling began in Ireland, made its way to Scotland via Islay, where it was transformed into something else entirely.  There are plenty of differences between Irish Whisky and Scotch Whisky, but the primary difference is in the distillation process.  The Irish triple distill, the Scots double distill.  Mix in the raw ingredients and the essence of the land and you’ve got two very different spirits.  There’s magic in each of the spirits, should you choose to linger with them.  Lingering is the key, these aren’t meant to be slammed down like you’re on spring break in Cancun.  Honor the spirit or don’t dance with it.

      Tonight, on this rainy and raw day, I’ll dance a bit with the spirits.  Just enough to honor them without offending them.  A taste of the essence of Scotland, which draws my attention still.  Humanity is taking a bit of a hit at the moment and we’re all living with plan B, but there’s hope for brighter days should we get this right.  I’ll have a virtual toast this evening to your continued good health.  Slainte Mheh!

    • Dufftown

      You could spend a couple of weeks immersed in the distilleries of Scotland. I didn’t have a couple of weeks, but I did circle my last day in Scotland for a trip to the malt whiskey capital of the world (they say and I see no reason to dispute it), Dufftown. Two massive whiskey distilleries are right next to each other, and a third is just down the road. Glenfiddich sprawls at the foot of Balvenie Castle. Next door is the distillery that shares the castle’s name. For a tour, it had to be The Balvenie Distillery.

      I appreciate whiskies from all regions of Scotland, and love the whiskies from Islay in particular. But if I could only have one, it would be from Balvenie. So the tour was booked and locked in, and we arrived with time to spare. The parking for Balvenie is tucked into a stand of trees, making us second-guess the location, but sure enough we had arrived.

      Some distilleries truck in the malt or buy barrels from the Speyside Cooperidge up the road. Balvenie does every part of the process in-house, which means a tour at Balvenie is going to be more comprehensive from the get-go than other distilleries. But they really take the time to stop and explain every part of it. We’d done a tour at Talisker that we enjoyed that took one hour. Balvenie was three hours, and we could have stayed longer if we didn’t have a rental car to drop off. There were only four people in our tour, with four cancelling, and we looked at each other a few times in wonder at the attention we were receiving from our Ambassador James. Can’t recommend him enough.

      Driving to a distillery yourself means compromising. You either risk everything and partake (in a country that won’t tolerate it), or you politely pass drams to non-drivers in the tasting. Obviously there’s only one appropriate choice, and I watched a few choice drams go to my passenger and to the couple who had wisely hired a driver. Balvenie kindly gave me a bottle to pour samples into for a blended sample for consumption later, but I did mourn the ones that got away. Until I drove the dark, twisting roads of the tourist route back to Inverness in the rain anyway.

      The Balvenie tour was a wonderful was to cap a week of travel from Edinburgh to Fort William to Isle of Skye to Inverness. There simply isn’t enough time in a week to see everything, so you plan, adjust to the weather, passing fancy and reality. And book a return as soon as possible to tackle the things you missed along the way.