My first sip

Scotch Malt Whisky Society chief executive Andrew Dane’s musing in his foreword to April’s Unfiltered resonated deeply with me, on how one’s first sip of a Society dram will stir passion for more of the ‘good stuff’.

You see, I was immediately transported back to my first visit to the Society with my good friend, Frank ‘Angel’s Share’ McGarry.

“Just pop up to the bar Slim, tell the young man what flavours you like, and he’ll find something that will knock your socks off.”

I love how Scots, like many nationalities, almost always veer from a friend’s given name; speaking as Frank’s mate answering happily to Slim, Big Yin, Beardy or Fatty.

So pop I did, not really knowing how this whisky-flavour-describing-thing worked, or, if indeed it did.

“What do you like to drink?”
“Wine and beer.”
“Aye, but what kind of flavours?”
“Red and lager.”

Now, this was also the moment I realised how caring, passionate and extraordinary long-suffering Society hosts are, and always have been. Not even a hint of an eye-roll nor a quiet sigh, just a warm, knowing smile.

“Do you have a sweet tooth sir?”
“Actually, I do!” I was a little euphoric that we had reached some common ground.
“Ok, smoked food?”
“Aye, aye; lightly smoked cheese is a thing for me.” More giddy excitement.
“Honey?”
“Aw, love honey.” Almost jumping up and down like a (large) baby goat.

My host smiled that smile again, and turned to the gantry, from which he retrieved a beautiful shiny green bottle; in seconds, as if it had been waiting there for me.

The beautiful shiny green bottle had strange hieroglyphs; ‘93.42’ in large Post Office-red numerals, and ‘Explosion in a honey factory’ in bold black type below, then an explanation I never read. Aye, early days of my appreciation of the unique and magical Society flavour descriptions.

He did the wonderful, artful, just-overflowing measure thing which I never ever tire of. The deep, golden liquid dispatched into the Society dram glass; my first ever, the feeling of generosity, of ceremony; an ever-lasting appreciation of this part of the Society experience forever etched in my memory banks.

That first sip (I hadn’t learned swirling, inspecting for legs nor nosing then...) and swallow didn’t reveal much, other that the burn.

I coughed, smiled, and croaked “that’s really nice” and returned to Frank.

“Well, Fatty?” he enquired, and on very quickly realising that I knew nothing of how to fully appreciate and maximise the deep joy available from a fine dram, he gently guided his whisky Padawan through the ‘ways’.

Water released more sweetness, the mouthfeel (I learn quick) was smooth and oily and, after retrieving my socks, I understood the Society description and why Frank had placed so much faith in our host.

Honey, honey honey....it tasted of honey! What alchemy was this? I was besotted. I had another, and Frank and I had the first of our many wonderful evenings in the Society. I returned home (eventually) with my first ever bottle of the good stuff.

Our first Society event was a steak and whisky night at The Vaults when, showing spectacular naivety, we decided to meet the other steak & dram cohorts in Queen Street for ‘a couple’ beforehand. Seemed a reasonable plan, what could go wrong?

Suffice to say, after the sumptuous steaks and wonderful drams were almost fully enjoyed, we wondered where Frank was.

He had gone, evaporated into the night air. ‘Angel’s Share’ McGarry was born.
Frank and I have our next monthly get together with ‘The Vague Rants Symposium’; another four or five disciples, in The Vaults on Thursday.

We wholeheartedly agree that once you’ve sampled the good stuff, there is indeed no going back.

Feel like sharing your own memories of your first sip of the good stuff with Unfiltered? Let us know at richard.goslan@smws.com