The Spirits: drinking whisky on Burns Night
It’s Burns Night this Friday — an excuse not only to “strip the willow” in vigorous fashion, but to drink plenty of whisky.
If you follow the advice of Pippa Middleton, who tells us in Celebrate that she has “come to treasure Scotland, a land cloaked in nostalgia and history”, you may also make pom-pom thistles, play cards and listen to the “lovely stories” of Robert Burns. Should you find yourself at such a supper, drinking plenty of whisky may become a matter of necessity. Sadly, Pippa advises that you decorate your table only with “miniature bottles” — which goes a long way to explaining why Celebration will be her last book.
A good Scot will tell you there is only one way to drink Scotch, which is with Irn-Bru. A more discerning one will tell you that it’s best neat, with no ice, and that you should flick in a couple of drops of water to open it up. But then we are into the rarefied world of single malts, and to mix a 40-year-old Glenfarclas with anything is a hangable offence on both sides of the border.
Still, even mixing a blended Scotch is not straightforward. “There’s death in the cup — sae beware!” as Burns once inscribed on a goblet.
Fix a Rob Roy — a Manhattan with Scotch in place of American whiskey — and you soon miss the sociable qualities of American whiskey, which goes out of its way to get along with everybody, pulling out a chair for the vermouth, making small talk with the bitters, etc. Scotch tends to stand in the corner, smoky and austere, threatening to headbutt the other ingredients out of the glass.
No, it’s best not to over-complicate things. In Japan, where the best distilleries — Nikka or Yamazaki — rival those of Scotland, they are fond of mixing it with soda, and calling it a “highball”. I call it a Scotch and soda, and order it often.
Another standby is the Whisky Mac, a simple combination of whisky and ginger. Recently, I was given bottle of King’s Ginger, a ginger liqueur which was devised in 1903 by royal vintners Berry Brothers and Rudd to keep the fat king Edward VII warm in his motor car. I duly decanted some into a hip flask in a 2:1 whisky-to-ginger ratio, and have been taking the odd tot on walks through the snow. Central heating for adults.
The king of Scotch cocktails, however, is the Blood and Sand, named after a Rudolph Valentino film about a bullfighter. According to the Savoy Cocktail Book, it is made with equal parts Scotch, Cherry Heering (a Danish cherry liqueur), sweet vermouth and orange juice. The combination sounds strange, but mixed well, it is surprisingly subtle. I’d recommend following the advice of the Wall Street Journal’s columnist Eric Felten, whose recipe ups the Scotch and uses fresh blood orange to add a little bitterness. Ask your barman to combine 1½ shots Scotch; ¾ Cherry Heering; ¾ sweet vermouth; and ¾ blood orange; shake well over ice; and serve straight up with a blood orange twist.
After a couple of these, you should be just about ready for a haggis toastie and one of Rabbie Burns’s stories. “What ails ye now, ye lousie bitch/To thresh my back at sic a pitch?” See? Lovely!
Twitter: @richardjgodwin
