Triple Distilled, NAS, UCF, Natural Colour, 57.2% ABV Single Cask Bottled for The Whisky Mercenary in September 2021
The final whiskey in this oddball series takes me to Ireland, as this week I’m taking a closer look at what is arguably the biggest oddball of the lot. I think you’ll come to agree with me when I say the previous whiskies featuring in this series will pale in oddball comparison when faced with this week’s specimen. Indeed, oat is rarely used in whiskey, and so it was a nice gateway into the series, and last week I sort of took it next level with the elephant dung. But let’s be honest: as a species, we go way back with oat and we’ve been fermenting the hell out of it since forever, just as people have been setting fire to shit through most of human history. So while perhaps unusual, the previous whiskies will need to bow their heads to a whiskey that has been finished in virgin oak casks charred using seaweed. Not any type of your run of the mill seaweed, no sirree, Wakame seaweed.
Wakawhatnow? Wakame Seaweed: the king of seaweed (according to the people making this whiskey – trust me: I’m as surprised as you are). Currach (named after canoe-like boat used by medieval Irish monks to explore the Atlantic) is owned by Origin Spirits Ireland – a company not only releasing whiskey, but also single malt vodka and single malt gin. Very focussed on terroir using all sorts of Irish organic products to create their spirts, pushing the envelope in the process by exploring the boundaries of taste and flavour, going full pioneer in fact when it comes to creating new styles for well-known spirits. Kudos to them!
Now, I don’t know where you’re sitting, but using seaweed to char casks is a first to me. Next to the green Wakame seaweed (seasonally grown in lower shore rocky coasts during winter and harvested in spring, providing ‘briny, salty, and umami flavours with a degree of sweetness’) they also release a whisky matured in casks that were charred using Kombu Seaweed. Both of these seaweed varieties are quite commonly used in the seaweed culinary community, mainly in salads at that and, rather unsurprisingly, were introduced to us through Japanese cuisine . What you do, apparently, is harvest the seaweed from mid spring until summer by cutting it just above the base (so it can grow back next season) and then simply hang it out to dry in the sun or in an oven until it turns full green, dry and crispy. It’s said to be quite flavoursome, with a delicate sweetness and clean and crisp, maritime, oyster like notes (there’s a ‘no shit, Sherlock’ award in here somewhere).
As I had little idea as to how you exactly go about charring a cask with seaweed, I reached out to Origin Spirits, and they were kind enough to reply. So, many thanks are due here to Stephen Randles who provided me with this information: “to create Currach Whiskey we char the inside of virgin American oak casks using dried Irish seaweed. The casks are rested on their sides and the seaweed is put into the casks and lit on fire. This happens in a number of allotments. In between each allotment, the casks are rotated with the seaweed on fire inside the cask, ensuring a uniform char throughout the entire interior of the cask. We then empty out the seaweed and fill these casks with single malt Irish whiskey. We allow the whiskey to finish for a further 3 to 4 months in these unique seaweed charred casks.”
This, he continues, “results in some pretty unique and rich whiskies which definitely have that single malt Irish whiskey DNA, but with distinctive sweet, savoury and maritime flavours also from the seaweed charred casks.”
Let’s find out, shall we…
Nose
Really interesting! Closed at first, then some brandy-like sweetness. It keeps on evolving as the sweetness becomes intertwined with wet paper and glue. This may sound pretty awful, but it really works. The seaweed is noticeable as well with a maritime element reminding me of the smell of driftwood in a harbour. When it settles again, I’m back on more familiar ground with hints of pencil shavings and gummy bear sweets. Like I said: weird, but it works.
Taste
A generic sweetness, down to the high ABV. This needs time and a bit of water. Dry, medium full mouthfeel. Vegetal, salty, briny, more sweetness. Umami notes with hints of decaying vegetation combined with a whole array of exotic spices. Again, it tastes a lot better than it sounds.
Finish
Medium long, unusual and weird spices (in a good way), with that dryness turning softly sweet again.
Final thoughts
It’s fair to say I’ve never experienced a whiskey like this before. I need to bear in mind that this is a cask strength version bottled for Belgian indie bottler The Whisky Mercenary (the regular 46% ABV expressions should be easier – and considerably cheaper - to get hold off), as this comes at me all guns blazing. It’s unusual, spirity and quite complex. It’s got all the familiar elements of a youthful bourbon cask matured single malt, before it goes off the wall with a whole array of new and (to me) unknown flavours and sensations. I can’t but feel I’m lacking a frame of reference here to fully assess all the flavours, as some notes to me are very uncommon, not to say completely new. Therefore it’s hard to make analogies and comparisons. While I wouldn’t say I’m out of my league with this one (at the end of the day it‘s still whisky), I probably need to up my game significantly trying more Japanese cuisine to expand the olfactory library. What I do know, is that I liked this one, as, unusual as it may be, it all comes together nicely and it just works. Above all it’s fun, refreshing and a pleasant surprise encountering new and interesting flavours in whisky. Oddball? Yep! Recommended? Also yep! Highly, in fact!
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