ENJOYING SCOTCH WHISKY

Whisky’s versatility has long been underrated. Too many people think of it only as a short to be drunk with or without ice, with or without water, with or without soda or dry ginger. There’s much more to it than that. Scotch is the basis of many classic cocktails; it has its role in cooking; and it certainly has a place at the dining table.

The quaich, a shallow silver bowl, is the traditional Scottish tasting vessel but has fallen out of favour because it doesn’t allow the whisky to be properly nosed.

The first element in Scotch’s versatility is the vast range of weights and degrees of pungency available, from light, fresh blends to ancient and venerable malts as dark as port. Even the most experienced professional taster can’t possibly know them all, and most whisky drinkers will have established a core of a dozen or so reliable favourites that broadly cover the range of variables.

The copita, or straightforward sherry glass, is recommended by tasters because its inward-curving lip retains aromatic vapours.

Then there’s the glass. In one sense it doesn’t matter what you drink your whisky out of so long as the hole is at the top and not the bottom. But like any other drink, Scotch has three principal sensory aspects: sight, smell and savour. You want a glass that will enhance all three. The quaich is the shallow dish, normally silver, in which whisky was traditionally sampled; but as it neither lets light through nor collects aromatic vapour it’s not favoured by serious tasters today. The usual whisky tumbler, perfect for everyday use, isn’t the serious taster’s preferred option either, however fine the crystal. It enhances the visual aspect, certainly, but allows the fumes to escape too easily. An inward-curving sherry copita or even a brandy balloon cover all three aspects best.

Next, there’s the water, either fluid or frozen. Plenty of people prefer their whisky with a splash or have it well-watered – that is, about 50:50 – while others say that watering good whisky is sacrilege. And while there’s no arguing with taste, the fact is that water dilutes. It has its most marked diluent effect on the whisky’s alcohol content, reducing its bite and unmasking the maltier flavours, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Ice does much the same but also slows down the evaporation of volatile aromatics, accentuating the other flavours still further.

A Manhattan.

An old-fashioned.

Moving a step beyond Scotch on the rocks or Scotch and water, there are as many whisky-based cocktails as there are mixologists. Many of the recipes are American and were formulated with Bourbon in mind, so versions made with Scotch will be less sweet: a full-bodied blend such as Whyte & Mackay Special makes a good substitute for Bourbon. Many recipes also require a syrup of two parts sugar to one part water, boiled until the sugar dissolves and taken off the heat before it can thicken. An old-fashioned, one of the earliest recorded cocktails, was originally whisky and triple sec with Angostura bitters; for a more modern version cut a big piece of orange zest, squeeze it lightly and rub it vigorously over the bottom of a tumbler. Add a teaspoon of sugar syrup and a couple of drops of Angostura bitters, then plenty of ice and finally a large Scotch. Serve with the piece of zest and a maraschino cherry. A whisky sour is one part sugar syrup to two parts whisky and two parts freshly squeezed lemon juice; with soda it becomes a Collins. A Manhattan is simplicity itself: four parts whisky, one part sweet vermouth and a drop of Angostura bitters. There are dozens more, but these are perhaps the best known: better known still are the whisky toddy and Atholl Brose. Toddy is simply a shot of whisky with a teaspoon of sugar and a squeeze of lemon juice all dissolved in hot (not boiling) water. Honey is even better than sugar; rubbing the inside of the glass with the cut end of a ginger root first makes it better still. To make Atholl Brose, soak half a cup of oatmeal in half a pint of cold water; let it stand for an hour or two; strain it and feed the oatmeal to the chickens; mix four tablespoons of honey into the liquid; bottle it with as much whisky as you desire; stopper the bottle very tightly; and then shake it until the honey dissolves.

A whisky sour.

In cooking, whisky will substitute for brandy in any recipe such as cream, white wine and brandy sauce, or Chantilly. It’s better than brandy in rich fruit-based cakes and desserts, including Christmas pudding and home-made mincemeat, and is essential in Dundee cake and, of course, home-made marmalade. And then there’s cranachan. Toast 3 ounces of pinhead oatmeal in a very hot frying pan, shaking a little from time to time to stop it sticking. As soon as it takes colour, pour it into a bowl or jar, cool it for a few moments and stir in a dessertspoon of whisky. Leave it for a few hours. Then whip up half a pint of double cream with another dessertspoon (or less) of whisky and fold the oatmeal into it. Into as many tumblers as you have guests put a few raspberries or – less traditional but considerably cheaper – strawberries, and spoon in the oatmeal, cream and whisky mixture. A light dusting of freshly toasted oatmeal (without whisky) and a few more berries tops it off nicely.

Finally, whisky tops and tails a good dinner absolutely perfectly. As an aperitif, a fairly light blend or single malt on the rocks, especially a slightly peaty blend such as White Horse, can’t be beaten. As a digestif, a rich malt – Bunnahabhain, say, or Highland Park – is as good as any Cognac and probably more memorable.

Strawberry cranachan.