What does Australian whisky taste like? One of the biggest problems for the Australian whisky industry – actually, it’s not a problem, it’s simply a mistake – is that a lot of people try to pigeonhole Australian whisky with a crude, base descriptor. To be fair, other whisky categories have the same problem: According to “the rules”, Scotch whisky is peaty; Irish whiskey is light; American whiskey is sweet; Japanese whisky is expensive, etc, etc. You get the idea.
Of course, such generalisations and stereotypes can often be wide of the mark, but the reality is that both consumers and marketers rely on such pigeonholes, and once these things stick, they become incredibly hard to shift.
So how do you describe Australian whisky? What does Australian whisky taste like? What’s a one-size-fits-all, catch-all statement that’s vaguely applicable? I’ll answer that in just a moment, but first some preceding comments to soften the blow…
Here, within Australia, we live in something of a bubble. We’re patriotic, we’re parochial, and we love our battlers who give it a go and create craft spirits. It’s considered poor form to criticise an Australian whisky or an Australian distiller, and so – for the most part – we give everyone a pat on the back, and even dreadful whisky sometimes gets a patronising “keep up the good work” for fear of offending. The truth is, most Aussie distilleries make a good new make spirit. But that doesn’t necessarily mean they produce a good whisky. Maturation in warm, dry conditions and an unhealthy reliance on tannic wine casks make the task of producing a quality, balanced, aged whisky a far more challenging exercise. Not everyone is succeeding. (For a thorough and detailed exploration/discussion of this, you can read this article here).
Thankfully and happily, there are some distilleries that have “got it right”. I accept that aspects of this are arguably subjective and not all will agree, but distilleries like Bakery Hill, Limeburners, Tin Shed, some Sullivans Cove releases, and even relative newcomers Archie Rose have demonstrated that slower maturation in good casks can produce quality, balanced whiskies. It’s no accident that the Australian distilleries that win the major, respected awards are the ones that have been around for a few years. I hope you’ve noted that it’s not their two to three year old whiskies that are winning the awards. The likes of Heartwood/TIB have also shown that good spirit matured deliberately to remove the volatiles can be turned into wonderful whiskies.
So how does the rest of the world view our whisky? What catch-all statement are international commentators using to describe our whisky? The answer is not particularly flattering. It typically consists of and revolves around three words: Immature, hot, and over-oaked. (That last term is also sometimes replaced with tannic).
This inconvenient truth – which many honest local commentators reluctantly acknowledge – was rammed further home to me very recently. Last month I was one of the whisky judges at the inaugural Australian International Spirits Competition (AUISC). It was a long day of nosing, tasting, and judging across numerous flights of different whisky categories that included Asian whiskies, Indian whiskies, European whiskies, Scotch whiskies, American whiskies, and Australian whiskies. Single malts, single grains, blends, ryes, bourbons, corn whiskies…it was the full spectrum of spirits produced from fermented cereal grains and it took an entire day to go through all the entries and flights. The judging was overseen by Steve Beal (a globally acknowledged whisky expert and decorated judge) and there were two distinct moments and experiences that gave damning insight into our industry’s plight.
The first distinct experience was the arrival of the Australian flights. To set the scene, the table of whisky judges (there were other tables with qualified people judging gins, rums, vodkas, etc) consisted of eight industry folks – brand ambassadors, drinks writers, bartenders, retailers, and so forth. All whiskies were served entirely blind, so we had no idea which distilleries or brands were being brought out to us. We had happily navigated through many other flights and categories by this stage, and palates were still fresh and vibrant when it came time to assess the Australian contingent. And it was then – unanimously – that a change in mood came across the table. Despite the fact we’d already encountered several cask-strength offerings in earlier flights, each Australian whisky was suddenly hot. Each whisky was dry and drying. We exchanged glances across the table. There were murmurings under our breath that didn’t take long to be voiced more audibly. We started reaching for water more rapidly as a few observations were shared: “No balance”. “Like sucking on fence posts”. “Where’s the malt?” And then the dam burst…we actually started complaining. In the context of the day’s play and the preceding drams, these were unpleasant whiskies to deal with. And, please understand, this was not just my reaction or opinion – it was the response of all eight judges. Such was the build up of tannins and oak that clogged and mired our tastebuds, we had to physically take a break before the next flight. A round of cleansing pale ales – the only alcohol we would actually swallow all day – was called for, and it was taken as a medicinal necessity to try and reset our tastebuds. Make no mistake: In the context of the day’s judging across an international array of whiskies, the Australian entries were a chore.
The second distinct experience was the contribution of Steve Beal into the fray. Overhearing our gasps and cries for relief from the rapidly stockpiling tannins that were tearing up our mouths, he came to our table and tried two or three samples from the flight. After sipping at a few and pursing his lips, he shared his thoughts: “Over here, your industry calls this a style. The rest of us call it a fault.”
Further conversation with Steve revealed that this is the perception of Australian whisky to many on the international stage. He readily and sympathetically acknowledged that it’s chiefly a problem for the young distilleries, and it’s exacerbated on the international stage because it’s typically the younger distilleries that are trying to boost their early profile by entering international competitions. They have financial pressures to get product to market early, or they’re obliged to use smaller casks that colour and flavour the spirit in a shorter time frame. The last three to four years has seen many such bottlings and releases flood the local market, and many aspiring distillers send their whiskies overseas to international awards and tasting events in the hope of a gong or badge they can get publicity and kudos from.
Let us pause at this point and remind readers that this article is not slamming all Australian whiskies or suggesting that every Aussie producer is guilty of releasing hot, unbalanced, over-oaked bottlings. Let no one accuse this piece of taking a broad-spectrum, clumsy whack at our entire industry. Of course, only a small handful of distilleries were represented at the AUISC, and it would be inaccurate and stupidity to tar all Australian whisky with the same brush. But – returning to this article’s opening paragraph – that’s precisely what pigeonholing is all about. What will people find when they type “What does Australian whisky taste like?” into Google or some other search engine? This unfortunate perception of Australian whisky is exacerbated because many of the producers who are behind the offending releases are often the more vocal and visible. Social media campaigns; loyal followers; cute merchandise; and “specially procured casks” can go a long way to making noise about a whisky and garnering publicity….but it falls dreadfully short when the spirit is actually tasted by a palate that knows a thing or two.
The key here is that a good whisky must have balance. It’s whisky, which means it’s distilled from cereal. In the case of single malt, we want to taste the malted barley. We want a touch of the grain; we want the sweetness and esters from the fermentation to still be present; we want the right amount of heat from the ethanol; and we want a proportionate amount of oak. Remember that maturation in oak is a three-pronged reaction: It is subtractive, it is additive, and it is interactive. The oak should subtract some of the volatiles and nasties in the spirit; the oak should add its own fingerprint and influence; and the oak should interact with the spirit to produce magical and chemical reactions that shape and meld the liquid into a whisky with desirable attributes.
The stark reality is that far too many Australian releases are under-matured. (Note I did not use the word young). They are bottled before two of the three processes of maturation have had a chance to fully play out. The additive process has played out in spades: The wine casks (or port casks, or apera casks, or muscat casks, or whatever) have added their fingerprint and injected sweetness, colour, fruit, spice, and tannins to the spirit. But bottling at just two to three years – yes, even in our hot, dry climate, and even in smaller sized casks – is not enough time for the subtractive and interactive processes to contribute fully to the process. The result is an unbalanced whisky that is under-matured yet over-oaked. Yes, there are exceptions, but the general rule holds.
So do not fall for the lure of colour. If a whisky is outrageously dark at just two or three years old, that should be a warning sign, not an indication of maturity or quality. And do not fall for the marketing spin of the “special cask”. Just because the cask spent 80 years (or whatever) in the hands of Seppeltsfield and previously held all manner of wines, fortifieds, tawnys, tokays, muscats, whatever, does not mean or guarantee it will produce a good whisky. (Quite the opposite, in fact. The reality is that it will probably leach buckets of tannins into the spirit and destroy the mouthfeel and balance). Do not lose sight of the fact that the vast, vast majority of the world’s most loved, adored, and respected whiskies were matured in humble, plain American oak, ex-bourbon casks. That’s something that a few Australian distillers need to remember.
None of this is new thinking or a sudden revelation, by the way. Such thoughts and concerns have been circulating for some time. My long-term whisky colleague, Craig Daniels of the Malt Whisky Society of Australia, wrote on this subject in their Feints & Foreshots publication two years ago: “It’s becoming apparent that from most consumers’ and experts’ point of view, sherry and bourbon 100ltr or 200ltr barrels (in general) deliver the best [Australian] whisky but only after 6 to 10 years. There’s a very good reason that Sullivan’s Cove, Hellyers Road and Limeburners have picked up national and international gongs for whiskies aged more than 8-10 years recently. I understand that many producers don’t want to (and probably can’t afford to) wait that long, so there’s always inherent tension and conflict. Nevertheless, pumping out immature spirit, (arguing it’s legal, so it’s OK), isn’t the only way to wreck your brand but it’s a good (or should I say a bad) start.”
Respected whisky writer, Luke McCarthy, expressed similar concerns and touched on very similar sentiments in a recent article for Oz Whisky Review, albeit in the context of an article that was a feature piece on one producer. You can read that piece here.
Of course, appreciation and enjoyment of whisky is a subjective thing, and I accept that this rising Australian “style” might be your jam. If you enjoy whisky that just tastes like highly alcoholic port, then that’s fine – but please understand that many other whisky enthusiasts will disagree with you. And don’t be offended if international judges and commentators describe these traits as faults rather than virtues.
If you’re a local Aussie distiller reading this and these words are rubbing you up the wrong way, then don’t take offence or be riled. Have the grace and wider view to accept the honest observations and constructive criticism from eight experienced judges who struggled to enjoy the (blind) samples that were placed before them. And look at the distilleries who have invested in larger barrels and longer maturation times to bring balanced whiskies to market.
Make no mistake: There are some unbelievably good, delicious, complex, balanced, tasty, and spectacular whiskies being made in Australia. Let’s ensure that their style and character is what becomes our pigeonhole.
Cheers,
AD
PS: If aspects of the above read resonated with you, you might also like this article: Trouble brewing for the Australian whisky industry?
PPS: You also might like our article, “The challenges of starting a new whisky brand“.
Great article Andrew. I would add that balance also includes the price . I believe we must support the local industry to ensure it grows, but pricing your product so that a 2 to 3 year old (500ml bottle !) sells for sometimes over $200 does not do help the cause.
A link to this article was put on a Facebook whisky group, which triggered some positive responses and discussions. One person who replied to the Facebook thread was Cameron Syme of Limeburners Distillery in Western Australia. Cameron’s response and input was fantastic and so – with his permission – I’ve pasted his response in below:
“A good read. I agree that I’ve tried several Australian whiskies that to me don’t rate. However, I don’t speak publicly about them, as it’s more important to be supportive of the industry. I will speak privately about my ideas with the distillers directly.
I do spin out when some whisky nerds rave about some of the new brands though… whisky that clearly has faults is treated as being iconic. I believe in the long term the market will sort itself out and those that make poor whisky won’t last.
One thing though – We have copped lots of criticism from people right from day one. Yes there’s some key supporters, and I thank those people, including you (you have been honest though and not blindly positive all the time). But there’s been plenty of people consistently tell me my whisky is shit – even when it’s clearly an international gold medal winner. On that, we’ve won credible international medals for 12 years in a row. Every one of our expressions has won at least one medal, and many have multiple medals, in Australia, Uk, Hong Kong and USA. Still there’s no shortage of Australian whisky intelligencia who will tell me it’s crap – even a head judge at a high profile competition – Adelaide’s Taste Australia – said a couple of years ago there was “no Australian whisky of a global standard and definitely none of gold medal standard”. Now that was a competition that had at least 3 Aussie international gold medal winning whiskies as entries. Who’s at fault, the judge or the whisky industry? I would never seek to publicly shame an entire industry.
I complained to that competition. No apology from the competition – although I did reach out to the head judge to let him know I was not impressed. Notably the media release and public statement was made less visible after this – but the damage had been done. Needless to say we won’t enter that competition. The owners of the competition didn’t have the courtesy to reach out to me to discuss this. I encourage everyone else to boycott that competition. Which is a shame as the Co-ordinator changed and he’s a great guy. But f’k em, as a competition they very publicly shit on us and on our industry, why should we go back for more?
We’ve also had judges of gin tell us there was no juniper in our gin. I say those judges ought not be judges, as clearly they don’t know what juniper distillate tastes like.
After 15 years Distilling, and 12 years selling whisky, I no longer listen. If they don’t like it no worries. Some people like ford, some like Holden and some like BMW. But I do find Aussie judges are, generally speaking, overly critical of Aussie whisky.
We release most of our whiskies at 5-10 years old. Most spend lots of time in ex-bourbon casks and then into finishing casks.
Tiger Snake has been 3 times category winner at the World Whisky awards. Predominantly this is aged in new oak, just as bourbon is. We release this as a 7 year old at cask strength and a 5+ year old at 43%. Even though we don’t put age statements on most of our whisky, many are 7+ years old. People definitely criticise our whisky as they perceive no age statement means only 2 years old. Not the case.
We didn’t enter this competition that you speak about. Feel bad for those that did. I hope the competition gave feedback to the entrants so they can take this on board. I consider the judges perhaps shouldn’t have known they were tasting Aussie whiskies.
Regarding the comments on the price of whisky, watch out for world whisky day – we’re going to release Dugite… at $99 a bottle. We can do that as I have achieved economies of scale in Porongurup. Still the tax we pay sucks. Twice as much as NZ for example, and something like 20 times that in the USA. No Australian distiller can compete internationally while we have this draconian taxation regime in place.
Dugite Australian Whiskey is looking lovely and I can’t wait to release it.
Limeburners will always be about the same price it is now, as we have lots of staff and a small scale of production. And hey, I think it’s fantastic whisky that’s capable of competing at the highest international levels. But then… I could be biased.
We distribute nationally and export to Japan, UK, Malaysia, Singapore, China, Mauritius, and are about to commence to export to Germany and the USA. None of these markets complain about price or quality. But we get a fair few Aussies who complain. Just sayin’…
For any Aussie distillers reading this article, AD raises many great issues, good to reflect on this and to continuously improve. AD is a good guy and if you get a chance to meet him and get feedback on your whisky – do take up the opportunity.
My advice, for what it’s worth, – only release your whisky when you like it, but be careful of developing a distillery palate. Consult widely and don’t scrimp on casks, grain water or Distilling process. Young whisky can be good whisky – age isn’t everything. Abandon 100 litre casks. 200 litre casks mature just as quick, but are less likely to over extract tannins.
For anyone about to embark on the Distilling journey – it’s a massively expensive business. What it costs you to set up… that’s what it will likely cost you, each year for the first 10 or so years in operating costs to feed the beast. Please only do it if you can afford to stay in it for the long term and to consistently produce quality. Poor quality hurts us all.
Apologies for the long post.
And a big Thank you to all the great Aussie whisky drinkers who have supported us over the Years. Your great comments and feedback make it all worth while.
Cheers
Cam Syme.
Limeburners/Tiger Snake
Honest Australian Whisky, and proud of it.”
We have a similar problem in USA with explosion of craft whisky distillers. Obviously the big boys in Kentucky are good and MGP in Indiana has been delivering for years. Then you get High West, Balcones, maybe Ironroot and a few others… then a lot of mediocre whisky. It’s great that everyone is passionate about whisky and wants to make it but overpriced, mediocre craft whisky or Bourbon is a sin. Whisky is incredibly complex to make with lifetimes of knowledge being passed along. So many things to do and it can still go wrong. The American craft whisky scene has all the same problems.