Looking for durrty whisky, part 2: does Ireland spill the dirt?

OK, I get it: Irish whiskey is probably not something you’d associate with dirty flavours. If there’s such a thing as an Irish signature flavour (or at least what we’ve come to associate with it), it’ll likely be their pot still whiskeys the likes of Redbreast, Powers or the differently coloured ‘spot’ series. And indeed, ‘dirty’ is likely the last of any possible adjective you’d consider throwing at these. And yet… there are possible candidates from the Emerald Isle who might just fit the bill for this series. I briefly considered Connemara, but dismissed it even quicker (too light a flavour profile imo, and the peat influence is ‘subdued’ to say the least), but a few others did make the list. I seriously thought about Teeling Blackpitts, because a) what’s in a name? and b) I’ve heard really good things about their recent cask strength release. But seeing how I just reviewed another Teeling, I moved on again (postponed, not cancelled, surely), and landed on what might be my final option left in finding an Irish whiskey that could be considered dirty… Waterford.

To say Waterford has been a bit of a divisive distillery from the get go, is kicking down an already wide open door. Their whole emphasis on terroir, for starters, has been the topic for often quite heated debate amongst whisky fans, -writers and other ‘pundits’. Whether they’re on to something or not, is topic for another day.

And since no one is asking, here are my 2 cents in a nutshell: if you want to talk all things terroir and emphasize a great deal on sourcing barley from local farms (and as such I feel it’s a very intriguing, interesting approach, worthy of exploration), you can’t stop there. Simply put, the focus on single farm whisky obviously only tells half the tale. Terroir implies, personal opinion here, that you embrace the concept wholeheartedly, rather than cherry picking those bits and pieces that suit you best. To me, terroir would imply also looking at local, or at the very least Irish, oak as well. Something Mark Reynier has dismissed/neglected/forgotten/… so far. Probably for a number of reasons, but my bet is (although he’ll probably never admit it) it’s a lot to do with money. Now, fair to say that when it comes to the new make spirit, the differences and nuances from barley sourced from different farms will be there, and I’ll happily believe that the differences and nuances are significant and abundantly clear to even the most untrained palates as well. But how much of that remains when you age that new make in a multitude of different casks? My guess: not an awful lot. If you’re taking it really seriously, how on 'earth' can you justify completely ignoring such a key contributor when it comes to defining the final flavour of your whisky? Regardless of Reynier’s reluctance of using local oak in the whole terroir equation (he’ll probably dismiss this, claiming I’m missing his entire point altogether), I’m assuming that at this point it’s very likely not economically ‘interesting’ to use Irish oak. Which in turn probably says a lot about how serious we need to take the terroir claim in the first place. And exactly the same apllies for yeast varieties being used (or rather: not used). If terroir implies locality, it doesn't just stop at the one ingredient. Like said: a topic for a likely very interesting debate on another day.

But bend it any way you like it, and love him or hate him, the fact that Mark Reynier has pushed the whole terroir thing at the heart of what Waterford is all about, certainly made people take notice. So regardless of how much truth there is to it, you can’t deny the fact that from a marketing perspective, it is quite a brilliant move. Amidst the whole Irish whiskey revival, Waterford definitely was and is one of the distilleries that manages to catch a lot of attention. Add to that their stand-out, instantly recognisable blue bottles, and most of the marketing work is pretty much done there and then.

Having said that, I’ll add that the few Waterford whiskies I’ve tasted so far didn’t really do an awful lot for me, which makes them, at this point at least, very much a ‘try before you buy’ distillery. Bring forth the benefits of bottle splits, as that’s how I got my hands on a decent sized sample of their ‘Broomlands 1.2’ release from 2020, which will be the whisky 'du jour'.

People ‘less impressed’ by mister Reynier and his Irish whiskey endeavour, have mockingly renamed the distillery Waterfart. Surely that’s a bit harsh, but for the sake of this series, where dirty is sought and celebrated, one can only hope…

Waterford Broomlands 1.2 single farm origin Irish single malt whisky, 50% ABV, 2016-2020 (3 year old), natural colour, UCF. Matured in American Oak, French Oak and Vin Doux Naturel casks, outturn of 10,000 bottles. App. €65 – €70 ( yet €80 on the distillery website!)

I’m well aware of the fact that Reynier is an obvious and easy target. The man is very outspoken on just about anything, and his assumption that he alone is right and everyone who disagrees is a blithering idiot surely adds to that. Personally I have never met him, but whenever I see o hear him appearing on YouTube or other (social) media, giving interviews – or rather spewing opinions, I’m not exactly overwhelmed by feelings of sympathy. But fair is fair: there are definitely points to be earned as well. Releasing whisky at 50% ABV, untampered by colouring or chill filtering, deserves a firm two thumbs up!

Putting all possible biases aside, it’s time to find out if this puppy fits the bill in my quest for ‘durrty’ whisky…

Nose

Farmy and yeasty, and a decent dose of gym socks as well. Promising start within the topic of this series I’d say, although not entirely inviting as such. Luckily, some fruit notes join in – picking up lychee and grapes, evolving to notes of both red and white wine. So the casks are immediately making their mark. They are, however, sitting against notes of porridge (oatmeal) and wet leaves, with a wet cardboard note, going towards an ever so faint sulphur note.

Palate

Slightly fizzy. White raisins this time. Again, a farmyard/yeasty note, and dare I say it: a hint of a fart?! The sulphur /cardboard note remains faint however, which, all things considered, probably is a good thing. Some spices and a hint of leather and tobacco.

Finish

Quite hot and peppery and medium long, making way for a more enjoyable echo of apples with a bit of a creamy sensation all the way at the back.

Final thoughts

It talks the talk, but doesn’t necessarily walk the walk in my opinion. Not only within the concept of this series, but as a whisky on the whole. It’s by no means bad, but based on the sample, I’m not exactly in a hurry to go out and buy a bottle either. €70 (£65) for a near 4 yo whisky is steep, any way you bend it. Yes, it has that dirty touch to it, but overall it just isn’t a dirty whisky. Apart from that, I’m not at all sure what’s a bigger cause for concern: the fact that it literally tasted – just for ‘whiff’, but still – like a fart in my glass, or the fact that I wasn’t at all repelled by that. So, a dirty-ish, not particularly good, but by no means bad young Irish whisky? We’re a long way from home, and definitely not in Kansas anymore. Perhaps I should have gone for that Teeling Blackpitts, after all…

Next week: back to Scotland!