Do

Marking our Mark at Strathearn Distillery

Our last day of distillery school in Perthshire dawned a powder blue over Comrie town. Tony and the Strathearn boys had given us freedom to come in late, assuming, rightly, that the previous night would’ve been a late one.

In the shade of Comrie’s high street we stopped at the Comrie CafĂ© for a proper Scottish breakfast and recapped the various whiskies we’d tried the night before. Of the ridiculous number I imbibed, Kilchoman Machir Bay and Bruichladdich Port Charlotte stood out. Then, on our way back to the apartment, we stopped at the butcher and picked up a steak pie for dinner. Read more...

{ Comments on this entry are closed }

A full barrel of Strathearn newmake

Jeff’s 30th birthday dawned with a splitting headache. It was no surprise — the Strathearn boys had done their damnedest to manifest this bleary morning. I lurched from bed and shuffled down Comrie’s high street to secure a couple of black pudding sausage rolls to take the edge off, and they did by god, they did.

It being Jeff’s birthday, Tony arranged for Stuart to pick us up and ferry us to the distillery for it was likely to be a long day with celebratory drinks as the nightcap. At eight in the morning I could hardly stomach the thought, but as I stepped into the stillhouse where Wee Erin and Bella the Stripper waited, I remembered there’s no rest for the wicked. Read more...

{ Comments on this entry are closed }

Strathearn distillery's mash tun from the mezzanine

It was Wednesday morning, the start of our third day at Strathearn Distillery’s whisky school, and I was sore. Every muscle in my back was locked up and complaining about the dozens of 50lb bags of barley I’d hauled up the steps of the stillhouse yesterday. I ate a sausage roll, drank some coffee, and grinned. Learning a new career is always painful (I’ve learned three in the past seven years). The sun was shining in Comrie as we waited for Tony to pick us up. The Mad Men of Methven planned on delivering a salvo of tastings today and that meant no driving for us.

The whisky and gin would have to wait. Read more...

{ Comments on this entry are closed }

Traveling Savage filling a barrel between two condensers

Delilah was gone. A man came into the office, hoisted her, and carried her off to his truck with a grin on his face. I watched, aghast, as Tony waved him goodbye from the doorway. The truck rumbled over the speed bumps while Delilah sat cold, alone, and forlorn in the pick-up bed, gleaming in the morning February sun. Strathearn didn’t need Delilah anymore, so they sold her.

This is not a tale of human trafficking. I’m referring to Delilah the still, half of a matched pair of small copper stills. The other half, appropriately named Samson, remained in the stillhouse for small-batch gin runs. We’d be doing one of those today. Read more...

{ Comments on this entry are closed }

Tears from copper at Strathearn distillery

Ah, the first day of school. The excitement, the anxiety, the hangover?

Surprisingly, both Jeff and I were fairly chipper as we shuffled out of the apartment on that partly sunny Monday morning and drove toward Strathearn distillery. The Murray was a good friend, though he was half the man he used to be.

The gents at Strathearn were kind to us by providing a late 9:30am start time, and after passing through the town of Crieff and the farms of Perthshire’s bread basket we arrived right on time. The distillery’s HQ… Read more...

{ Comments on this entry are closed }