Oddball whiskies part 2: Ondjaba Triple Grain

Namibian whiskey, 46% ABV, no information regarding colouring or chill filtration.

Namibian whiskey: apparently, it’s a thing. As such, having a whisky from this southern African country is reason enough to add it to the oddball list. Furthermore, it’s made by a Namibian wine producer (Erongo Mountain Winery), who use maize (corn), barley and Mahungu, a Namibian grain variety for creating this whisky– again not something you come across every day, but THE thing that just screams and shouts ‘Oddball! ‘ about this one, is the fuel source used in the kilning process of this whisky…

Little geography lesson: Namibia lies on the south-west coast of Africa, enclosed by South-Africa, Angola and Botswana. Despite it being the 34th largest country in the world, there are only roughly some 2.6 million inhabitants. The main reason being that a big part of the country consists of desert. This implies that vegetation (both natural and cultivated agriculture) can prove to be challenging and are to be cherished and maintained with great and meticulous care. It also means you don’t go about aimlessly cutting down trees to build a fire, but rather result to other fuel sources. One of these fuel sources comes in abundant supply and can literally be picked up from the ground. I’m talking, in case it wasn’t clear so far, about elephant dung.

Namibia has an elephant population estimated at about 25,000 specimen. They know this because in 2019, highly skilled people in helicopters and small Cessna aircrafts put an awful lot of time and effort tracking down herds, counting them and then extrapolating the data. It’s as good a survey as any, if only because a more traditional herd-to herd census might prove a bit of a challenge, and no one thus far has attempted (for obvious reasons – think of all the dust) to kindly invite all Namibian elephants to get together for a headcount. So, roughly: 25,000 elephants. This doesn’t seem like an awful lot as such, but bear in mind that the average full grown African elephant tends to produce some 100 kilograms (220 pounds) of dung. Each day! That’s an awful lot of shit! In fact, if ever there was a time where the expression ‘Holy Crap’ seems applicable, this might well be it. For comparison: on average, a full-grown human excrements about 0.5 kilo (1.1 pounds) of poop per day (and for the record: I’ve looked that up too, I didn’t go about piling my own shit together and putting it on a scale. I take this blog very seriously and tend to do my research, but there’s only so much I’m willing to do. Even for science).

So in a country where natural resources are limited on the one hand, while there’s some 2- 2.5 million kilograms (that’s 2500 metric tons, or roughly 16.5 Boeing 747 airplanes) of elephant shite lying around every day on the other, having a shit ton of, well, shit lying around, tends to sparkle an idea or two with the more endeavouring Namibian minds. Elephant dung, as it turns out, can be used for a plethora of interesting and unexpected things: from turning it into biodegradable paper, extracting biogas from it, to making pain relief medicine from it and, if really, really (and I do mean really) necessary, you can even extract drinkable water from it. Or, probably more intuitive and certainly less appalling: you can just burn that shit to warm your houses, or, in this case, kiln your grain with it. Much like Islay where peatbogs have been the obvious fuel source for centuries, elephant manure tends to be the ‘go to’ fuel source for the average Namibian. Big bonus in the case of the Namibians the fact that there’s an abundant daily supply of it lying around- where the good folk on Islay have to wait several thousands of years for their own little bog on the Hebrides.

As I’m starting to run out of shit jokes, let’s step right in to this one (last one, I promise).

Nose

On first impression: rather soft and mellow in terms of intensity. It is dense and a bit closed at first, though. Treacle, roasted cereal and chocolate. Dried red fruits and soft notes of spices. If there’s anything smoky here, it’s all shy and subdued, translating into a gentle earthy sweetness. A drop of water brings more life to it, with distinct notes of linseed oil, cola cubes and coffee gone cold.

Palate

On first arrival, definitely a bit more kick to it, as it’s immediately spicy with a peppery sharpness. Roasted coffee, over toasted/burnt cereal and a woody bitterness. The mouthfeel is medium full, dry and mouth coating. With the added water there’s a deep, dark, fruit note, with some wine and tannins as well. Again coffee and a dry, smoky ash note.

Finish

Decent in terms of length, ashy - dry, with lingering spices turning slightly bitter.

Final thoughts

Despite the obvious oddball factor here, this is actually a sound, interesting whisky – anything but a gimmick in fact. It’s not going to set your world on fire by any means, but it stands its ground. Overall it’s pretty straightforward and well balanced. And while there’s a certain mineral-vegetal-earthiness to it in terms of flavour which I put down to the kilning, rest assured, this is good shit.