The Macallan :: A Drop of the Whiskey, a Dose of the Lore

Scotch whiskey brand The Macallan hosted a series of events in Boston designed to educate the public, and the media, about the distillery's wares. Brand Ambassador Randolph Adams, a big, bluff Scottish American with the presence of a natural showman, guided the tastings and fielded questions.

The events took place at the venue formerly known as The Roxy (and now called The Royale), a nightclub space with black walls, chandeliers, and lots of red velvet curtains, matched by red paint and set off with gilt highlights. The event I attended--the "power lunch"--hosted about two dozen, a small number that seemed almost lost in the venue's large, dark environs.

As the event progressed, wait staff brought samples of the different ages, along with a three-course meal: salad, a choice of fish or chicken, and a dessert of sorbet and chocolate. This gave the attendees two advantages: First, it meant that, to an extent, there was a chance to try the spirits with food pairings. Second, and perhaps more important was the fact that some food helped us keep from getting drunk.

In due course, Adams--who normally serves as the Brand Ambassador for the Southeast--introduced the new Brand Ambassador for the Northeast, a handsome, prematurely graying, thirtyish native of Edinburgh named Charlie Whitfield. For the most part, however, it was Adams' show, and the Brand Ambassador made himself (and everyone around him) at home, making jokes and giving a polished presentation on the Macallan.

Adams set the tone in the first moments, introducing himself, explaining his job title, and telling his audience that one major reason he had been given the post of Brand Ambassador, in addition to his love and knowledge of scotch (he estimated his personal stock to be in the vicinity of 500 bottles of various brands and vintages), was the fact that "I look really good in a skirt."

I don't--at least, I don't think I would. But wherever there's a sense of humor at play is somewhere I can feel at ease. (It also helped that another attendee at my table, a young woman, hailed from the same small Colorado town as my husband. It's a small and whiskey-loving world, I guess.)

The Macallan Ten Year

Our first taste of the event was the Macallan 10 Year, which we were handed by a handsome, smiling bartender upon entering the room.

This smooth, slightly sweet distillation carries a bit of a vanilla flavor and a definite hint of the brown sugary taste common to many brands of scotch. The 10 Year is aged in barrels of "fine oak," Adams told us.

The Macallan 10 Year is a mixable bottle, Adams reckoned, calling it "good with ginger ale." That's fine for scotch drinkers who aren't ready to sample the pure stuff, but to a scotch drinker's ears that sounds like another way of saying, "training wheels." Clearly, the 10 Year was only the harbinger of better things to come.

The Macallan Twelve Year

Indeed, something better and bolder was on the way, and it didn't take long. The Macallan 12 Year looks different, has a more complex nose, and boasts a fuller, richer flavor.

Adams pointed out the spirit's reddish color, derived, he told us, from the distillery's famed Alaroso sherry casks--95% of the world's supply of which, Adams told us with pride, the Macallan snaps up for its own use, not counting the used barrels that the Macallan sells as hand-me-downs to its competitors.

While other distilleries might use a cask up to five times, Adams said, the Macallan will use a sherry cask only twice. After that, the flavor and color are not as marked, and the quality of the scotch is diminished.

"The Macallan takes no shortcuts and cuts no corners," Adams said, with no trace of jocularity--a rarity for him.

The 10 Year might have put Macallan on the map, Adams said, but the 12 year is "the one that made us famous." The distinct reddish cast of the liquor is accompanied by a flavor dominated by "nutmeg, dried fruit, and spices--I call it 'Christmas in a glass,' " Adams added.

This is not scotch whiskey that is merely finished in wood casks after spending most of its twelve years in steel barrels, Adams specified. This, like all Macallan scotch, ages in the Alaroso sherry casks the entire time.

There was still a strong hint of vanilla about the 12 Year, but the brown sugar flavor of the 10 Year gave way to a smoother and suppler intimation of maple syrup. It was, Adams summarized, "luxurious and special."

The Macallan Fifteen Year

With each new bottle, we were invited to cast our minds back the corresponding number of years: ten, twelve, and now fifteen.

With this new sample, we were reminded of the year 1996 and its major events, ad period music played (The Cranberries!) and the three flat screen television screens at the front the room listed text and images that evoked the trends and times.

Enter Charlie Whitfield, the boyish and lean--and newly hired--Brand Ambassador for the American Northeast. Whitfield took over from Adams for this segment, regaling the audience with the tale of his own long association with the Macallan: Family lore had it that when he was but an infant, Charlie's grandmother entered him in a lottery for two cases of the distillery's scotch. When he won, Charlie's family enjoyed one case and put the other back for his eventual enjoyment.

"Come to think of it," Charlie mused, "I'm not sure that they didn't actually win four cases and only save me the one!"

Had the prize been two cases of the 15 Year, such a transgression would be both understandable and forgivable. The Macallan 15 Year is lighter in color, having been aged in barrels of American white oak.

The flavor profile reflects this, tasting of honey and vanilla--what Adams called "cr�me br�l�e in a glass." This bottle is better for drinking on the rocks, because, in this case, ice will actually enhance, rather than blunt, the flavor.

The Macallan 17 Year

The Macallan 17 Year was our penultimate stop on this flavorful journey of spirited exploration.

Whitfield noted that the Macallan, unlike some distilleries, does not add any caramel coloring to their scotch. The liquor's color, like its aroma, is a natural effect of the wood in which it ages. The Macallan 17 Year has a discernibly smoky flavor, which is more usually the case with brands produced on the island of Islay. This is not the result of any added flavor, but rather due to the peat used in the distillation process, Whitfield told us. (Some wine producers, by contrast, will amp the flavor of their product by artificially enhancing certain olfactory characteristics of their vintages through added flavorings.)

The smoky flavor was a nice departure, and it gives fans of scotches like Laphroaig, Talisker, and Ardbeg a choice from among Macallan's offerings that will appeal to their palates.

I like smoky scotch myself, but I preferred the bottles aged in sherry casks: The 17 Year was less sweet, and a bit more astringent.

Apart from the aesthetic of the question, one might wonder: Does avoiding artificial additives like caramel coloring or additional flavor make this scotch healthier for the drinker?

The focus in health news has been on red wine and its vaunted anti-oxidants, which include resveratrol. Scotch doesn't contain resveratrol, but spiritous liquor is thought to offer some health benefits similar to those of red wine. Whatever the alcoholic beverage, moderation is important. One theory is that alcohol helps fight bad cholesterol by stimulating liver function--but it's a short step from stimulating the liver to damaging it with fatty deposits, which can easily happen if one over-imbibes, especially over time.

The social and psychological benefits are also pluses. A glass of something with friends enhances a get-together and helps one relax; alcohol is, after all, a relaxing agent.

Once again, however, it's important to stress that when it comes to booze, too much really is too much. As with other substances, abuse and overuse of alcohol can pose hazards including addiction and long-term health problems.

Adams and Whitfield led the room in a toast that celebrated responsible imbibing, with a salute of "Sl�inte"--another Gaelic word, meaning "health." Indeed, what better toast when sipping (not swilling) uisce beatha, the "water of life?"

The Macallan 18 Year

With the Macallan 18 Year, we arrived at an apex of craftsmanship and enjoyment.

The 18 Year has the distinct reddish color and the sweet, complex interplay of flavors that characterize the scotch aged in the sherry casks. "While the 12 made us famous," Adams recounted, "the 18 put us over the top!"

Over the top? He wasn't kidding: By now the dessert course had arrived, and the 18-year went with the chocolate the way that a good cognac does. But itself, the 18 Year has a cognac-like quality, too; there's a bite to the bottle that is characteristic of whiskey, but the aroma and flavor is so smooth and so far removed from astringency that lesser bottles seem crass by comparison.

Adams introduced a high-tech accessory to this refined distillation. While a connoisseur hates to dilute a good scotch with ice, cooling the drink can bring out the flavor. The solution: use of a spherical piece of ice, which will chill the glass slightly without melting too fast and watering it down.

The ice ball machine--the product of "Japanese invention and Scottish ingenuity"--transforms a cube of ice into a perfect sphere in seconds. The only drawback here is that you have to have a much larger than usual ice cube. The good news is that you can also buy a big ice cube mold from the Macallan store to go along with the ice ball machine. The ice ball machine costs �650.00--about $1,050--but if you're going to make a habit of drinking expensive scotch, you might as well do it right.

And the Macallan 18 Year is not a cheap bottle of scotch, as I found out later on: I loved it so much that I bought a bottle for my husband for our 26th anniversary a few days later, at a cost of $159.

He loved it, which made the price tag beside the point, and besides--26 years calls for something special. We agreed over our anniversary glasses that The Macallan 18 Year qualifies.

Adams had plenty of Macallan lore to share with his rapt listeners. The Macallan distillery is located in what is called the Speyside region, which is near the snowfed Spey river--the best water in Scotland.

Good water is a good idea when it comes to carefully crafted spirits. Anything less would corrupt the flavor of the finished product, which takes years--and, literally, decades--to create. Moreover, older spirits are rarer than younger ones simply because the wood casks permit for evaporation, meaning there's a 2% loss of volume each year. The longer a barrel is left to sit, the less scotch remains to be bottled--and so the more costly it will be.

The Macallan offers a 21-year old scotch, as well as a 25 Year and a 30 Year. The distillery, as generous as it had been to us, was hardly to be expected to decant such rare bottles--but that's okay: One ought to have something left toward which to aspire.

Whitfield shared with us a story of a special 64-year-old scotch that had been auctioned off, in a 1.5 liter cut crystal bottle, to raise funds for clean drinking water in under-developed nations. The bottle sold for a considerable sum-hundreds of thousands--but, Whitfield gave us to understand, its ambrosial contents, as much as the philanthropic work its sale financed, made the bottle worth the astronomical cost.

Not all of that 64 Year barrel went into the specially created bottle. Whitfield told us of being offered a taste by a Macallan executive. It was a phenomenal flavor, Whitfield recounted, that stayed with him for days. Or maybe years: As he spoke, his eyes shone. That rare vintage, it seemed, was with him still.