Certainly, discovering the joys of whisky cocktails has been a major driver of my increased consumption, but other things are at work too.

While I’ve written mostly about Scotch these past years, Bourbon was my first whisky love. At some point, I geeked out to the extent that the few bottles I was buying were high end, and I found fewer and fewer situations where I’d prefer to sip a neat Bourbon over a neat Scotch. So, things just sat on my shelf, and I hadn’t picked up but one bottle of Bourbon in the past 2 or 3 years. Getting over the stigma of drinking Bourbon other than straight got the ball rolling again.

Next, it dawned on me that, living in St. Louis, I’m not too far from prime Bourbon territory. Which means – BOURBON ROAD TRIP! So, purely in the interest of being a well-informed visitor-to-be, I figured I should bone up on the produce of our neighbors to the east.  So far, I’ve managed my way nicely through some Old Forester, Four Roses (basic bottling), W. L. Weller Special Reserve, and Wild Turkey Russell’s Reserve 10 Year Old.  All in all, it’s been a great time.

Russell's Reserve 10, W. L. Weller Special Reserve, Old Forester, Four Roses.

Canadian whisky, on the other hand, is something I was totally ignorant about. Apart from the homemade whisky/honey cough syrup my mother made for us as kids, I’m not sure I’ve ever had a drop of Canadian whisky in my life. Despite its rampant popularity in volume sales in the U.S., it flew completely under my radar, as it does for a lot of whisky folks.

I do have some personal twangs of nostalgia for Canadian whisky, as it was my dad’s tipple of choice when we’d go out to dinner. At the local supper club (yes, we had those in Michigan too), it was a CC&7 (Canadian Club and 7-Up), but at “fancy” restaurants, it was VO & Ginger (Seagram’s VO, and Ginger Ale which, being in Michigan, meant Vernor’s).  Since Seagram’s VO was on sale at the local grocery for $12, I grabbed a bottle of that.

I’ve also been intrigued by the bevy of Irish whiskies showing up at local retailers. I’ve always enjoyed Irish enough to have a bottle around, but it’s usually been nothing other than the standard bottlings of Jameson or Bushmills, unless I was feeling flush enough to spring for a Red Breast. I started first with Powers, and was impressed. I’ll be back for more soon.

Islay Mist, Teacher's, Ballentine's, and Hankey Bannister

My old favorite, blended Scotch, has not been left out either. I’ve been working my way through some old favorites like Teacher’s and Islay Mist, but spreading out into others that my local awesome liquor store, The Wine & Cheese Place, stocks that so many other stores seem to skip right over

What many of the whiskies I’ve been sampling share is a connection with another time. Once, many of them were juggernauts in the market. Today, many have fallen well below eye level on the shelves. My heart is drawn to these whether it’s merely a desire to share something with a long gone loved one, or merely the old man with a bottle in his grocery cart. Plus, I can’t help but want need to know what the whisky in those bottles tastes like. Sure, some of the brands may bear little resemblance to what they once were, but, what if they do? What if there are whiskies that are simply the forgotten children of some massive drinks conglomerate’s marketing department? What if the people who make them still put their hearts and souls into them? I am compelled to find out.

Finally is, frankly (crassly?), money. There is tremendous value to be had in these whiskies I’ve been exploring. The 1.75l bottle of Old Forester I’ve been enjoying? $23.  That’s 39-1.5 oz. “servings” of Bourbon, or less than $0.60 a pour – the equivalent of finding a very good craft beer for $3.60 a six pack, or a potable bottle of wine for $2.50, neither of which is happening any time soon. So, I’m free to explore with a relatively clear conscience.

As I’m finishing these bottles off, look for some detailed posts on what I found, as well as some nuggets on the history of the brands and distilleries. I can tell you now that some are amazing bargains that really should find a place on your bar! And some that you’re probably just as well off letting me take for the team. But most of all? I’m having fun.

Personally, I love a good blend. In fact, my consumption is probably at least 2:1 blends to single malts. So in the interest of getting other malt fans to give them a shot, here are a few of the things I love about a good blend, as well as some recommended blends to try.

One of my favorite things about a good blend is the “bite” it has. This is particularly true of young blends, which is what I tend to favor because they have this punchy element. A good young blend is the whisky equivalent of an extremely hoppy beer, or tannic red wine  - there is just so much vitality there that it’s hard for me not to get excited. I think this character is generally the result of the relative youth of the whiskies used to make most blends, and as someone whose palate skews away from oak influence, young whisky is something I tend to prefer.

The other main selling point about blends for me is the complexity that’s possible.  Sure, a fine Springbank or Glenmorangie is a complex whisky, but the sheer variety of whiskies available to blenders opens up a staggering potential, and allows the use of malt whiskies that might not be compelling on their own to add a much-needed voice to a choir.

So, what do I drink when it comes to blends?  Here are a few favorites.

For the Islay lover, I highly recommend getting your hands on Islay Mist.  This blend features a hearty dose of young Laphroaig, in all of its peaty loveliness, but with very little oak influence at all due to its youth.  Backing this up is a rich, plush bed of grain whisky that wraps the Laphroaig in a velvety, long, lingering finish. It’s a great ride, and I drink more of this than any other whisky.  It costs all of $18 a bottle.

Another favorite is Teacher’s.  This is a more Highland-style, though it does have an underlying smokiness from a healthy dose of Ardmore.  It is much more of a malt bomb than Islay Mist, but a firm backbone of grain whisky keeps it from getting diffuse in the mouth.  Amazing length, and criminally under-priced at about $15 a bottle.

Less ubiquitous than Teacher’s, but almost as compelling is White Horse.  This is another Islay-led blend that used to employ Lagavulin as its signature malt, but since the popularity of Lagavulin went through the roof (and maybe before . . .), the oily richness of Caol Ila has been the star here, though some Lagavulin still makes it into the blend.  Firm grain again gives steel to this blend, and makes for a long, busy finish.  A lot of fun for $15 a bottle.

Finally, the least surprising rec on this list and the one most malt drinkers are likely to admit to having on their shelf is Johnny Walker Black label.  This is a truly seamless but busy blend where starring malts are not apparent, yet the whole is much more than the sum of its components.  It is an incredibly complex drink, and I haven’t had too many single malts that I enjoy as much as a good bottle of JWB.  About $28 a bottle.

As you probably noted, though I think of it more as a bonus than anything, blends are bargains compared to single malts.  I find the best stand on their own as great whiskies, but when you compare them to single malts on the basis of value it’s no contest at all.

So, a quick riff on my whisky habits to provide some perspective. There will be some notes tomorrow. I have a decided preference for Scotch whisky. While I drink a bit of bourbon, more rye than bourbon, and a bit of Irish, I prefer Scotch. I don’t remotely believe it’s “better” – I’ve had too much indisputably lovely whisky from other places to harbor any such misconceptions – I just prefer the range of flavors available in Scotch. I like peat. I like salt and brine. I like rocks.

I’m sure I’m getting much head-nodding (and hopefully no evil glares from the Bourbon and Irish whisky lovers out there), but I’m about to lose a lot of folks when I say that I love blended Scotch every bit as much single malts. Like my two children, blends and single malts are very different beasts, but I believe both have much pleasure to offer the open-minded drinker. Some times I’m in the mood for one, and some times another. And just like I usually have three or four malts open, I generally have three or four blends available as well – enough selection that I can settle on something satisfying whatever my mood. Truth be told, I’ve got a couple of vatted whiskies open right now too (I’d say vatted malts, except one of them is the amazing Hedonism from Compass Box, a vatted grain comprised (in my bottling) of whisky from the closed Cambus and Caledonian distilleries).

As far as drinking, I tend to treat blends and single malts the same. Cool, not cold, neat, in a decent glass. I generally use my Riedel Single Malt glasses because I have them, and they do a nice job of directing the whisky into the center of the tongue, which I like (or at least am used to). I’m not opposed to adding water to cask strength spirit, but I try it neat first. While a lot of folks claim that adding a bit of water releases aromatics (a point I don’t dispute), I find the phenomenon to be a temporary one, with the remainder of the dram being washed out and less interesting on the nose and, particularly, the palate.

So, disclosure of favorites. When it comes to malts, I have a real preference for maritime malts. Forced to choose, I’d probably take Springbank first and foremost. I drink a lot of Highland Park too, along with good doses of Bruichladdich, Old Pulteney (the 12 y.o. being a great bargain at +/- $25 in these parts), and Ardbeg.

For blends, I’m a big fan of two of the smaller labels that carry a heavy Islay influence – Islay Mist Deluxe (yeah, the cheapest one) and Black Bottle (the 10 y.o. is a nice treat, but I love the lusty peat and brine of the undated one, which they have now started importing, so I can stop asking my father-in-law to hand carry bottles back for me). For easier to find stuff, I love the rich maltiness, and subtle smokiness of Teacher’s (though the caramel has been intrusive in the last couple of bottles), and the sharp peaty attack of Johnny Walker Black Label (whose website apparently doesn’t work with Firefox, so fuck ‘em). Good stuff all.