A couple of reviews ago, I pointed out how one feature of Bourbons that has always perplexed me is how a general practice of many major Boubon distillers is to consolidate production into one site and continue to produce many different brands of Bourbons, yet all sharing the same provenance – provenance being a generally beloved quality when it comes to food and beverages and is often a signal of quality and specialty when it comes to craftsmanship. I found it unique in that it isn’t really a practice you see in any other whisky producing region – well, maybe that was alittle bit of an exaggeration. Case in point: Midleton of Ireland.

Midleton boasts one of, if not, the largest pot stills in the world with a capacity of 75,000 litres. They don’t just have one, they have three. They’re also responsible for producing popular brands like Jameson, Redbreast, Green/Red/Yellow/Blue Spot, Tullamore Dew, Powers and Paddy – yes, all from the same facility. Screw provenance.

What will be the new Midleton Distillery - housing some of the largest pot stills. (Image Source: The Spirits Business)

Of course, the case for producing everything in one place makes economical sense – lots of economies of scale to be had, key functions like marketing efforts, bottling and labelling can all be streamlined, more bargaining power and consistency when it comes to securing raw ingredients. But that’s the issue isn’t it? When we pay top dollar for craftsmanship we almost envisage ourselves as patrons of an art form – which is almost necessarily uneconomical, simply makes no sense aside from pure passion for the craft. We don’t want to be talking throughputs, efficiency, and what have you. It almost feels cold to the touch, where’s that secret magic ingredient – love?

Now, keep in mind I’m a huge fan of Jameson and Redbreast, as well as a good number of Bourbons that comes from mega facilities, so I’m certainly not knocking ‘em. I’m simply pointing out an observation. I still enjoy the whisky – heck, if it was blind taste test, could you really tell the difference? I’m not flipping the script and saying craftsmanship doesn’t matter. Strip away the mambo-jumbo, craftsmanship can be boiled down to taking more time and effort to produce the whisky, sourcing higher quality ingredients even if yield isn’t as great, so on so forth. They’re certainly noticeable – they are what makes great whiskies. But that doesn’t mean commercially produced whiskies are therefore bad, they are still pretty darn good, especially if the price is lower from said economies of scale. So what I’m saying is, there’s a space for both of ‘em. Sometimes I just don’t fancy spending close to a grand on a 3-4 year old whisky from a craft distillery; sometimes some more commercially produced Irish whiskies for $20 a pop hits the spot just as well.

So many brands - same three pot stills. Where's the romanticised provenance or origin story? Maybe sometimes it just isn't that important. (Image Source: Scotchwhisky.com)

Which brings us to the dram of the day - Midleton’s Very Rare 2015 Edition. Midleton Very Rare is an annual release that has been going on since 1984, so that’s close to forty years, and it’s a blend of single pot still and single grain whiskies, all triple distilled, typically pretty well aged around 12 to 25 years old, matured in ex-Bourbon casks, obviously from the Midleton Distillery. Apparently only 50 casks are picked to be bottle as the Midleton Very Rare release each year. It’s bottled at 40% ABV for most years, which is a somewhat low ABV for a higher end release, not that I have any issues with ABV itself.

Midleton Very Rare Irish Whiskey 2015 Edition, 40% ABV – Review

Color: Deep Honeyed Gold

Fruit jellies! Hi-Chew Fruit Candy! More buttery now - pound cake, honey, whipped cream, then getting towards spiced apples and loads of vanilla.

On the nose: Fruit jellies and cordials immediately pounce with all enveloping aromas – peaches, plums, grape candy (think Hi-Chew candy). Confectionary notes couples with honeyed sweetness, whip cream, buttery pound cake, cinnamon and poached apples. Lots of vanilla, obviously! The grain component certainly shows here.

Malty oat biscuits, richer brown sugar, then all manners of caramelised fruits - bananas, apples, French toast, lastly aromas of light desiccated coconut flakes. Sweet, syrupy, fresh. 

With a maltiness of oat biscuits and cereals, the aromas get on to caramel, brown sugar, caramelized fruits – burnt brulee, bananas, Granny Smith apples, French toast, syrup. Light touches of desiccated coconut flakes as well. All very sweet, syrupy and still fresh.

On the palate: Smooth, good weightiness, but at the same time somewhat peppery and lighter than the aromas would lead you to believe. Peaches and cream, fruit candy, still confectionary but dialed back a notch. More caramel, vanilla, custard and baking spice notes, coupled with the same malty oat biscuits and cereals. Very much of the baked goods category. The oak makes a showing adding more astringency and acidity to the otherwise sweet palate. Gentle notes of hay as well.

More peppery but the same fruitiness - peaches and cream, fruit candy, custard, with the same maltiness as its aromas hinted - cereals and oats, with a light touch of woody acidity.

The finish: Medium length, lightly recedes with toffee and caramel clinging on, before fading out to a light bittersweetness.

My Take

I’d say this is the more textbook Irish whisky of old – classic fruitiness, cream, maltiness, light hay. Think home baked tarts, pies and confectionaries housed next to a countryside barnyard and a fruit orchard and you’re thereabouts in the right place. Very enjoyable but not very much complex. It’s approachable and ridiculously easy to drink and contains all the notes that today’s contemporary Irish whiskies promise but fall short on. This is the Irish whiskey you want to be looking for. Look no further.

Kanpai!

@111hotpot