After more hours than I want to count neatly folded into the capsules that comprise coach service on most major American air carriers; after finishing two Jim Butcher “Dresden Files” novels; after Justice League: Doom and Nameless Gangster; after all that, I stepped into Sydney, Australia with only a single thought in my mind: I needed a drink. Or two. Luckily, Sydney is a drinker’s paradise, overflowing with dens of indulgence that run the gamut from historic pubs to modern cocktail bars with an eye focused on the American speakeasy. With an absurdly mild definition of winter greeting me, I knew I was in for a proper drinking adventure. While almost everything in Australia costs twice as much as it does in New York, the odd exception is the alcohol (purchased in bars that is). Australia’s best drams of whiskey are poured for you at more or less the same price you would pay in a whiskey bar in the United States. Cocktails are comparable in price (but not always quality) to what you’d pay at any one of the many speakeasy-revival style bars in the States. And beer prices hover at about the same level as you’d pay for a pint of quality American micro-brew. So with those amazingly indestructible and colorful Australian dollars in hand, and after a brief stop at the hotel to freshen myself a bit, I was off.
In the past couple months, two of the whiskey world’s heaviest hitters — Jack Daniels and Jim Beam — have released “white whiskey” products in an attempt to (somewhat belatedly) jump on a perceived white whiskey trend. Most spirits writers have reacted to these releases with a resigned sigh and a rolling of the eyes. I’m hard pressed to come up with a more appropriate reaction. I don’t fault a company crass marketing ploys — Steampunk Cider is a pretty crass attempt to appeal to steampunk nerds like me, and I bought two bottles without having ever tasted it because, you know, <em>steampunk</em>. Luckily, it was fantastic, but the point is companies do marketing, and that’s A-OK with me. Sometimes though the marketing crosses a personally drawn line and really gets on my nerves (stop telling me you’re a distillery when you are just buying barrels from other distilleries and bottling them). Beam and Daniels have managed to poke a spot on me that was already sore as I am not the biggest fan of white whiskey, be it unaged white dog or simply filtered to be colorless. I also think this bandwagon onto which Jack and Jim are adding their weight is pretty rickety already, if it exists at all.
By an agreeable twist of luck, it turned out that the 2012 Whisky Live Sydney event was going on at the same time I found myself in Sydney touring it’s fine public houses, museums, and dens of vice and indulgence, as is my way. Truth be told, I have soured somewhat on large whisky gatherings and fests. There were only so many I could enjoy before the crowds, drunken amateurs, and repetitious marketing began to tip the scales into the negative. I still think such gatherings are a fantastic way to submerge yourself fully into whisky culture.
BallnRoll asked me to write for them about whiskey from unexpected countries. In The Whiskey Globe, we eschew Scotland and the United States, and spend time instead sipping drams from Sweden, Japan, India, France, and Taiwan
The world is full of advice about whiskey and how to drink it. Much of it is bad, or at least, really snobby and inaccessible. BallnRoll asked me to break it down in Whiskey 101, a quick guide to ordering something a little more adventurous than Johnny Walker Red on the rocks — but without the whiskey snob pretension.