Nothing remarkable in that you may think, except this whisky is whiskey, rye whiskey in fact, and it’s nearly 150 years old.

So what is it? How did it survive? And what on earth does it taste like? (And, perhaps, where can I get some?)

What I’m drinking is from the ‘Hannisville Cache’ – a small parcel of rye whiskey distilled around 1863 by Hannis Distilling of Philadelphia. That company survived until around 1919 (there’s more about them here).

Rye whiskey is the original American style. Right now it’s undergoing a modest revival, having been nearly wiped out by a combination of prohibition and Bourbon’s post-War popularity. But innovative small craft distillers have reinvigorated a great craft distilling tradition and once again rye whiskey is relatively available.

But back to my glass. The Hannisville Cache comprises several carboys of rye, bourbon and gin that were found by the redoubtable David Nathan-Maister of Finest & Rarest, who makes it his life’s mission to discover rare, unusual and lost distilling gems.

In this case, the rye whiskey was believed to have been distilled around 1863 and held in oak casks for some 50 years. In 1913 the casks were purchased by a John Welsh of Philadelphia, formerly US ambassador to the UK. He had the spirit transferred into glass carboys and stored by the Merchants Cold Storage and Warehouse Co of Providence, RI. There it lay undisturbed for virtually a century. Once in glass, spirits don’t age, but they don’t noticeably deteriorate either, making this an exceptional time capsule for vintage spirits enthusiasts.

It passed through the family until purchased by Fine & Rarest last year. They have transferred the two carboys of rye (and some gin) into 200 ml sample flasks (around a quarter of a normal bottle) which you can find on their website at www.finestandrarest.com

The first impression on the nose is of overwhelming vanilla, then very ripe bananas. The aromas are sweet and heavy, very complex and constantly evolving. But they’re deceptive – in the mouth the whiskey is quite drying; it’s oily (that’s good), with dark orange notes and rich spices. It lasts a very long time in the finish and unusually for a very old spirit the taste profile hangs together with the addition of a little water, releasing mint and herbal notes (ginger and liquorice are evident).

It’s not the greatest whiskey I’ve ever tasted, but it’s probably the most memorable. It’s an incredible and probably unrepeatable experience to drink any spirit of this age and I’m quite emotional as each drop passes my lips.

Ian Buxton

Ever wondered what ‘London gin’ means?

Until recently, the answer would have been ‘not a lot’. Unlike Plymouth gin, which is a legally-protected term permitting distillation only in that fair city, London Gin simply denotes a style that can be made anywhere.

In fact, much London gin (including many big brands and cult favourites such as Hendricks) is made in Scotland and the sole producer of any scale or brand significance remaining in London is Beefeater, which distils in Kennington. But now smaller producers are fighting back with distinctive London gins, often on a boutique, hand-crafted scale. And, crucially, made in London.

This move to limited expressions was led – quite fittingly – by Beefeater with its premium Beefeater 24 style, launched in 2008. It incorporates rare teas in the botanicals for a distinctively English twist.

This year it’s been followed by the even more interesting and distinctive Beefeater Summer Edition. Like Lodger’s shoe of the month, it’s a case of use it or lose it – the style, which adds a selection of summer plants such as elderflower, hibiscus and blackcurrant to the standard Beefeater botanicals, will only be available this summer. It’s a cooler, lighter gin that’s ideal for cocktails.

Other newcomers include Oxley (from Bacardi, but you’d never know); Sipsmiths; Old Tom from Jensen, which attempts to recreate a sweeter style of spirit popular in the 19th century; and Sacred Gin, which is – almost unbelievably – distilled by hand in Highgate.

Oxley and Sacred Gin both employ a highly unusual cold distillation process, which aims to preserve more of the taste of the botanicals, resulting in a taste that’s surprisingly fresh and quite true to the base ingredients. Either can be sipped neat, though most will be used in cocktails.

Quite lavishly packaged, and expensive at around £45 for a bottle, Oxley is aimed primarily at the US market but can be found in trendier London outlets.

No less exclusive, but rather better value at £30, Sacred Gin has already collected a number of awards and attracted the attention of cutting-edge cocktail maestros. Sacred is produced using 12 different botanicals including juniper (the staple ingredient of all gin), cardamom, nutmeg, and Boswellia Sacra (aka Hougary Frankincense) from which the brand name is derived. Distiller Ian Hart also offers enthusiasts the opportunity to create their own personalised gin by selling bottles of individual distillates. You then mix to your own recipe for the ultimate, but probably unrepeatable, martini.

Sipsmiths is the creation of distiller Jared Brown, who makes just 500 bottles (or less) at a time in a custom-designed pot still which, entirely co-incidentally, is housed in the Hammersmith building formerly the offices and tasting room of the late and great Michael Jackson (a noted drinks writer, not the singer). Here Brown produces an interpretation of the classic London Dry style that nods to its heritage and emerges as a particularly dry gin with a wonderful burst of juniper and a zesty, citrus freshness.

Finally, just down the road from Lodger, the fine wine merchants Berry Bros & Rudd have just launched their  No. 3 brand of London Gin. Named after the address of their long-established shop in St James’s Street, No. 3 is designed to be the perfect ingredient in a classic dry martini. The distinctive, fresh citrus notes come from orange and grapefruit peels and a touch of coriander. Cardamom and angelica add a dry, spicy taste and juniper completes the recipe. Made in London naturally for Berrys, London’s archetypal gentleman’s wine merchant, distillation is a batch process in traditional pot stills.

Look out for news of an exclusive No. 3 tasting to be held at Lodger soon, when you can try this new entrant for yourself and celebrate the rebirth of a true London classic.

Ian Buxton

You might say, “just an evening with good friends”, but I was really thinking about how old a whisky can get and still stay drinkable, let alone great.

This question was raised after I recently attended the launch of what was claimed to be the oldest single malt whisky ever bottled - and thus the oldest whisky ever offered for sale. It was a single cask of Speyside whisky from the Mortlach distillery, distilled in 1938.

1938!  Think about it.  The nylon toothbrush was invented.  The ballpoint pen was patented by Mr Biro.   Action Comics No. 1 was issued, introducing Superman to the world.  Orson Welles’ adaptation of War of the Worlds was broadcast.  A coelacanth was caught and Time magazine made a certain Herr Hitler ‘Man of the Year’.

Now it used to be said that whisky deteriorated after 20-25 years in the cask.  It went ‘slimy’ or was too woody to drink.  Now we’re offered 50 year old Glenfiddich (£10,000); 57 year old The Macallan (£12,500); 62 year old Dalmore (POA – if you have to ask you can’t afford it) and last week the 70 year old Mortlach.

And it was fabulous.  Still fresh; still vibrant and rich, rounded and multi-layered.  A triumph of the distillers’ art.  And, incredibly, decent value at £10,000 for one of the 50-odd bottles – though a few have gone already and you may have to be satisfied with the 20cl mini at £2,500.

But tasting the Mortlach raised some further questions: Why does the “average” whisky only last for 20 - 25 years in cask?  How do you get a cask to age longer?  Was this just a “lucky” barrel?

Well, the answer really depends on how you plan to use the whisky.  Most of the Scotch that’s distilled still goes into blends (think Johnnie Walker, The Famous Grouse, Bells and so on) and most blends are made up of whisky of 10 years or less of age.  So around 90% of all the whisky made in Scotland never gets the chance to go the distance and the distillers never intended that it would.

It goes into barrels that have less character to give and the blender puts these together to get the desired house style.  A little dash of peaty, smoky whisky from Islay, for example, will go a long way to add character to a pleasant but undistinguished batch of whisky.

Science plays its part as well.  In recent years it has come to be realised that the wooden cask (which must be oak) has a huge influence on whisky’s final flavour – some reckon as much as 60% - where previously water was thought much more important.  Now, if you’re blending large quantities, a not-so-great cask can get lost in the mix and its flavour diluted away.

There’s less opportunity to do that with single malt, where the volumes are smaller and the drinkers more discerning.  So the distillers have taken to putting their very best barrels aside and keeping these for the bottling of single malt, which may wait significantly longer before its bottled.

By ‘very best’ they’re looking for barrels that contribute flavour and colour without swamping the inherent spirit character.  Generally, these will have been used first for either American Bourbon or sherry from Spain.  Depending on which you select you’ll get a different effect and this is now well understood.

Best of all for long aging is a so-called ‘refill’ cask; that’s one that originally held either Bourbon or sherry but was used once for a relatively short period for maturing whisky.   The first fill of whisky ‘conditioned’ the cask and drew out some of the flavour and colour.

In its life as a ‘refill’ it can mature much more slowly and gently and pick up flavour and colour over many years, while the initial harshness of the alcohol is softened by age.  If the wood was of good quality initially; the cask properly prepared and warehoused and the spirit well made in the first place (probably the topic of another article) then we’re learning that it can continue improving for 40, 50, 60 or more years.

These older whiskies are rare and very expensive – and always will be.  There must be an element of luck in the survival of that 70 year old Mortlach but it seems it was destined for greatness.

Of course, there’s an alternative.  Some distilleries will sell you a cask of their new make spirit (it can only be called whisky after 3 years in the barrel) and you can lay it down yourself, like great claret.  Unfortunately, you may have to wait another 70 years before it’s worth £10,000 a bottle.

But be consoled: on present form it can only improve.

Ian Buxton

Behind every great whisky there is a great man. Or, increasingly these days, woman – and the purpose of this piece is to celebrate these unsung heroes.

The whisky you drink is probably a blend – Johnnie Walker, Famous Grouse, Bells. If you look on the label you’ll see the word “blended” appear somewhere. But just to confuse matters, most single malts are blended as well.

So what is a blend and how does it come about? It’s a great story of whisky making, and the heroes are the blenders. It starts in the 1860s when the Scots worked out that blending (or mixing) their strongly flavoured single malt with grain whisky produced a smoother, more palatable product. The great blending houses (Walker, Dewars, Haig & Haig) began their march to global domination, helped by the reluctance of the then-dominant Irish whiskey industry to contemplate such new-fangled ideas.

The trick in blending, when working with an inherently variable product, is to achieve a consistent taste bottle after bottle. So it’s the blender’s job to select from many whiskies to ensure uniform quality. With up to 40 different whiskies going into the blend and constant pressure from the accountants to reduce the cost, and sales not to drop the quality, it’s a delicate balance. The blender relies on an intimate knowledge of all the available whiskies and a finely-trained nose to judge a whisky’s aroma and palate, often without actually tasting.

The various Master Blenders spend many years in training, but the last couple of years have seen a changing of the guard: veterans such as Tom Aitken (at Dewars) have given way to their apprentices, in this case Sophie MacLeod. At The Famous Grouse, John Ramsay has just handed over to Gordon Motion after four years training and after 47 years the blender at William Grant & Sons, David Stewart, will hand over the reins this Christmas to new boy Brian Kinsman.

But Stewart won’t actually retire. He’s going to concentrate on his work on The Balvenie, one of the company’s single malts. Yes, single malts are a blend – but of casks of whisky exclusively from a single distillery. You could argue that only a single cask is true single malt.

Stewart’s key achievements include the crafting of The Balvenie DoubleWood, arguably the first single malt to be finished in a different wood type, and of Glenfiddich Solera Reserve, using the innovative Solera maturation process, another first in Scotch whisky.

Plus he was instrumental in choosing and blending the casks that created the landmark Glenfiddich 50-year-old, launched earlier this year. At £10,000 a bottle it’s the pinnacle of whisky craftsmanship; something from the hands of a true Master Blender.

Ian Buxton

The clubbable Edward VII (1901-1910) left us several enduring style markers – the fashion for leaving one’s bottom waistcoat button undone for one thing. He also popularised the Homburg, made wearing tweed stylish and introduced the Norfolk jacket. He managed to combine sartorial elegance with a taste for hunting, an eye to the ladies and a raffish approach to life in general that left his mother, Queen Victoria, quite unamused.

But until now he has never been associated with the world of spirits. However, it turns out that the portly monarch left one other style tip for a gentleman that has, until now, languished in sad obscurity. I’m referring, as you will shortly learn from cocktail aficionados of your acquaintance, to The King’s Ginger – a liqueur first produced around 1903 by London wine merchants Berry Bros & Rudd at the request of the King’s doctor, concerned by His Majesty’s reckless habit of taking winter morning rides in his new open-top horseless carriage (a natty Daimler as it happens).

Having concocted a full strength base enriched with macerated ginger root and a hint of lemon oil, Berry Bros appear to have more or less forgotten about it after Edward’s death. However, having recently scoured their archives, they have relaunched this splendidly-named tonic and now offer it to the hoi polloi at £17.95 the half-litre bottle. It’s actually pretty decent value, considering its versatility.

As you’d expect The King’s Ginger is a pleasantly warming drop that brings to mind hunting, shooting, fishing and other country pursuits, even long walks in Windsor Great Park. But I’d use it as an unexpected cocktail ingredient to add spice to some old favourites.

A Ginger Royale for example involves adding a dash to champagne or sparkling wine; it combines well with tonic and a plop of Angostura bitters; or mix it 50/50 with a decent Scotch for a twist on the classic Rusty Nail.

Horseless carriage not required, though the wearing of a jaunty waistcoat will add an appropriate touch of ceremony.

Ian Buxton

Please come and join us for a taste of Spring with the Lodger First Thursday on the 2nd of April.  From 6pm - 8pm we will be pouring Pimms, eating strawberries, and hoping for sun. 

We will also be offering a discount of 15% on any pair of shoes ordered on the night so it's the perfect chance to grab a pair of our vintage 1910 tennis shoes for summer. 

Hope to see you there!