History

Years back, pretty much the only whiskies I knew were some of the blends that were popular in my parent's house, J&B, William Lawsons and Old Smuggler. I also knew Glenfiddich, but it was not often that my parents got a bottle. Whisky was really of no interest to me. But something about that Glenfiddich being of higher quality for some reason had stuck in my mind, although I didn't really realize or care why.
Much later around my 18th year in life I and some friends pooled some money together to buy and enjoy a bottle of Glenfiddich. A night to remember. Although it was more the company than the whisky. A few years later still I had purchased a bottle of my own. I wasn't into whisky still, it was just something I liked drinking on occasion.
Fast forward again a few years, my girlfriend and me went to Ireland on a holiday, in the good company of a friend. We'd been visiting Irish pubs in Belgium and had discovered that those Irish made some good whiskey too. Our special attention went to Midleton Very Rare, it was really expensive in the pubs, my friend and I had both set our minds to buying a bottle in Ireland so we could enjoy it back home at a relatively cheaper price.
Ireland was a hit, and next year we went back. We carefully planned our route to pass Midleton distillery, which we intended to visit. I must admit that I went a little crazy in the distillery shop and bought no less than three bottles. A Jameson 15 year old, a Jameson 12 year old of the distillery reserve, and a Midleton Very Rare. Truly the whisky virus must have gotten me there and then, because I had just bought what would become the start of my collection. Back home I started to look out for whisky tastings. That was quite difficult back then, as there weren't that many as nowadays. But I managed to score one or two anyway. I had caught on to the blend/malt difference, and regularly bought malts in the supermarket.
In the mean time whisky popularity was rising and tastings became easier to find. My collection had already considerably grown, and I was now buying from specialized stores. I had already developed a fairly good idea of the taste range of whiskies in general. I loved them all. In the last few years a nearby drinks store has started organizing regular whisky tastings, and I try to attend all of them. As a result I have now tasted literally hundreds of different whiskies and own about a hundred myself.
I have now come to the point where I think of myself as a whisky connoisseur, one step beyond whisky enthusiast, but not a true whisky buff either.
Irish whisky will always have a place in my bar, and it pains me to see many people dismiss them so easily. I really love the true Lowland style whiskies, in fact one of the most amazing whiskies I've ever drunk was a 1981 St.Magdalene bottling by Gordon & MacPhail's. Islay also has a few of my favourites, but for me, nominating a favourite whisky is sheer impossible, because any choice I make, would only do injustice to all the others I really like.

So that's more or less how I became a whisky aficionado, what's your excuse ;)

Nosing vs. Tasting

I just wanted to formulate some thoughts on how people often focus too much on the taste of the whisky and neglect the nosing.
I'm no great noser, I must admit. My skill is limited to recognizing aromas I've encountered in other whiskies, but actually naming the smells is often beyond my capabilities. So I can probably forget about a job within my favourite industry, aside from the fact that I don't actually live in Scotland. Nevertheless I find nosing to be the most exciting part in evaluating a dram. Complex whiskies' noses take you on a journey through different sensations, often too quickly passed to be named. So it's a pity when some people don't pay any attention to a malt's nose.
To me, there are whiskies whose nose I find more interesting than their effect on my palate. I sometimes find myself still sniffing them, when others have almost finished their glass.
So I'd recommend anyone who likes whisky to linger a bit longer about the nosing, and discover what great secrets it can unveil.

The Peat Trap

Whisky and single malt in particular are rapidly growing in popularity. Whisky is becoming better known to people who just buy whisky in their supermarket, and there is a fair number of newly beginning whisky enthusiasts, who are finding their way to specialized shops and nosing events.
Nosing events are a great way to get to know new styles and expressions of whisky, and any amateur can learn a great deal there about whisky, how it is made, and what all the different terms and phrases on the bottles mean.
Often the very last whisky of a session is a peated whisky. It is saved for the end, because the peat aroma and flavours would obviously obfuscate the gentler and less dominant ones of the whiskies that are served before, if it wasn't. This is indeed a very valid reason to set the peated whisky as the last one to nose, and the moderator usually explains this to the new attendees.
On top of that, it is also often mentioned that the peat-style whisky is one that either does or does not appeal to you. The phrase 'you love it or you hate it', is frequently heard about the highly phenolic drams. Then again, it is explained you can learn to appreciate these whiskies over time.
This is all very true, but the effect of these messages is that a beginning enthusiast gets the impression that peated single malt is superior to others, because it is drunk at the end of a session, it feels like 'saving the best for last'. It is explained that the order of the whiskies is determined by their dominance in flavour, and one could (albeit subconsciously) conclude that dominance in flavour implies dominance in quality. And lastly, it is something you must learn to appreciate over time, so it may lead you to think that your progress as a whisky connoisseur is measured by your progress at appreciating peated whisky. And these conclusions a beginner might make, are obviously false. Nevertheless they result in the fact that many beginning 'connoisseurs' tend to focus heavily on the peated malts, in an attempt to master whiskies as good and as fast as they possibly can.
This is helped along further by the fact that peat-smoke is very recognizable in a whisky, so beginning nosers have something they can determine fairly easily. Often the first thing they notice about a new whisky they nose is whether it is or isn't peated.
Furthermore, peated whisky is something of a surprise to many people who have only tasted a few blends and perhaps a Glenfiddich. So these beginning enthusiasts have something they can easily amaze their friends and family with, who might not be as adept at whisky as themselves.

The bottom line is that almost all new enthusiasts begin their journey with peated whiskies. There's nothing wrong with that, nothing at all. It is a wonderful and interesting place to start. But that's what it should be : a place to start, not as only too often seems the case, the end of their whisky journey. Peated whisky is in fact where the learning curve of the connoisseur starts. Not because I say it should be, but because I notice it is. And the problem is that it isn't perceived as such. People think Lowland whiskies, and the subtler Speyside whiskies are easy to appreciate, but they aren't. It is just their subtlety that makes them more difficult to discern. Peat is dominant enough to be easily noticed at 40% ABV or more, but many of the flavours and aromas in the subtler whiskies aren't. The true challenge lies in finding and appreciating those. It is in fact for that very same reason, I think, that the Irish whiskies are so easily cast aside, even by more seasoned connoisseurs. Triple distillation makes a whisky more mellow, but also more subtle.

Please don't misunderstand me : I LOVE peated whiskies. I am only observing the fact that there is an inverted view of the learning curve of a whisky connoisseur, which is inconsistent with the actual facts. And that as a result many enthusiast get stuck in what I like to call the Peat Trap.