Everything needs a name. Just about. We’re a species that has become simply superb at bestowing names on all things. Better than that – we give a names to non-things. To invisible feelings, to dates, to times and then we give a name to the process of giving names. We fucking love it when things have names. I have no doubt there is some profound and mind-blowing psychology that is at play in our brain-melons. But, in the words of my alter-ego’s idol, Sterling Archer: “I wouldn’t know, I’m not a developmental psychologist.” Suffice it to say that humans have a pretty intuitive sense of the thinginess of things. That’s a bucket… That’s a spade…. That’s a sand-castle. And if we didn’t have different names for things, we’d only be able to call a spade a spade… and everything else a spade, too.
One single thing can also have a pile of different names, depending on when or where it is – take the cute little fella pictured below. In his lifetime, he’ll probably be at least nine names: Puppy, Boy, Rex, Maximillian (Rex was dropped after a day for being too insipid), Max, Naughty, WHO-DID-THIS?, WHO’S-A-GOOD-BOY? and also, Phillip (by the aging, and sometimes confused, neighbour). This phenomenon is not a tangent I’d care to pursue any longer, so let’s make an about-turn and get the fudge out of this rabbit-hole.
For all of its spontaneity, frivolity, manly barrel-toting and magic, the world of whisky/whiskey can be a somewhat pedantic one. For a newbie, navigating this world can be a little bit more complex than it needs to be. There’s whisky and there’s whisky. There’s Scotch whisky, Irish whiskey, Japanese whiskey, Indian whiskey, Taiwanese whiskey, South African whiskey and all sorts of other whiskys and whiskeys. Then there’s Single Malt Scotch Whisky, vatted malt whisky, blended malt whisky, grain whisky, blended whisky, old malt cask whisky. And then there’s non-whisky whiskey. There’s Rye whiskey, there’s Straight Kentucky Bourbon, Tennessee whiskey, non-Kentucky bourbon. The list go-eth on… e’er and e’er on.
And unless you’re an insect taxonomist, you’re likely to find this system a little tedious. Most likely it transpired from a combination of needs – to maintain standards (a number of requirements keep distillers in check), to aid the inebriated consumer to distinguish one product from another and most importantly because regulatory boards are the homes of pedants and bureaucrats and the only thing they love more than bestowing complex names on things is charging other people for the right to use said names. Fear not, young drunkard! As your dubious guide and blog-tator (blogger + dictator, fucktard), I will furnish you with limited wisdom to start you off. Let’s tackle three names: Single Malt Whisky, Blended Malt/Vatted Malt Whisky and Blended Whisky:
- A bottle labelled as Single Malt Whisky means that the whisky was distilled at only one distillery and made exclusively from malted barley (as the sugar source).
- Blended Malt/Vatted Malt Whisky is made using only malted barley (as the sugar source), but is a combination of whiskies from a number of different distilleries.
- Blended Whisky is the most cosmopolitan of the three and this whisky is made from malted barley AND various grains (maize, rye and wheat) and is a combination of whiskies from a number of different distilleries.
Got it? Fucking great. For the most part, this a good way to name things. It lets the average plonker know a bit more about his or her whisky. And let’s face it – we’re all average plonkers. But in no way do these three names say anything about a whisky’s enjoyability. And no, that’s not a word. Barley is comparably more expensive than grain, and people may see the use of grain in a whisky blend as a cheapening of the whisky; as a way to make the barley stretch a bit further. But grain whisky can have some delightfully ball-tickly flavours – marzipan, honey, floral sweetness, caramel and butter toffee to name but a few of the plethora and a 100% grain whisky can blow your simple mind. So shun and ignore blended whisky at your peril! Also, be wary of the whisky "connoisseur" that can wax lyrical about old single malts but knows fuck all else: Blah blah blah… Yes, I bought a 38 year-old bottle of XX single malt. Only ten of them in the world. Set me back a gajillion dollars…. At least I have something to match my gold-plated, unicorn-engraved Ferrari now… blah blah blah. Granted, that whisky may be delicious and there would be a rich history at any distillery that is churning out 38 year-old single malts, but never trust anyone that uses price, age or ‘single malt’ as a proxy for whisky enjoyability.
Kick him/her square in the genitals…. Especially if he/she is an insect taxonomist.
Kick him/her square in the genitals…. Especially if he/she is an insect taxonomist.