I usually don’t “taste” or smell most of the flavors that a reviewer finds in a whisky review. The same is true of wines. But as a longtime consumer of whisky and wine reviews, I nevertheless find them of great value.

Why? Simple. Some of the things a reviewer tastes or smells, I do too. And those descriptions give me a clue as to whether I will like a certain whisky or a wine. That’s very important because I don’t want to shell out big bucks for something I probably won’t like.

Take wine. When I hear a red wine hints of leather, cedar or tobacco, I probably won’t like it that much. I prefer fruiter tasting or smelling wines, so descriptive words such as blackberry or berry are more likely to appeal to me. On the other hand, “fruit-bomb” sounds too fruity for me. (I could give many other examples).

When it comes to whisky, I can’t taste all of what John seems to. Far from it. But by getting to know his terms and how he describes a whisky that I have also tasted, I get to know what his descriptive words mean. It helps me to figure out how much I will like future bottlings of whisky.

For example, if John describes a whisky as spicy (cloves, allspice, cinnamon), that’s something I like.

Or another example of a whisky I am now drinking, Compass Box Asyla. In a review the whisky is described as the following:

“Gold color. Floral aromas balanced with a gentle vanilla sweetness, and soft fruit. Soft, rounded body. The palate delivers what the aroma promises in a very clean and balanced way. Pleasing finish.”

In my own experience drinking Asyla, I can easily detect the “gentle vanilla sweetness.”

The whisky is also “soft and round,” which I like in whisky more than I do in wine.

And the whisky is “very clean and balanced” with a “pleasing finish.”

Granted, some of John’s reviews leave me with far less clue. Yet I chalk that up to his far greater expertise and experience tasting whiskys and to perhaps our different tastebuds.

Even still, I find John a valuable resource in determining which whiskys to buy. I have yet to dislike a whisky that he rated very highly (88 or above in my eyes).

First, of course those things aren’t “in there.” No one I’ve encountered thinks those things are in there. To dismiss whiskey descriptions for that reason is missing the point — by a wide margin. Also, while I wasn’t present at the time, Jimmy Russell sometimes speaks with a twinkle in his eye. He’s talked to me about qualities in his whiskeys.

Second, a suggestion: Take three different whiskeys that are supposed to be good and pour small portions into three tulip shaped glasses or white wine glasses. Do this in a space that will let you concentrate (not a loud bar, for instance, or a smoky, smelly room) and at a time when you don’t have a cold or are suffering from allergies. Then, spend several minutes just smelling the whiskey in each glass, with your nose an inch or so above the rim. Take them in turn, smelling the first for minutes, then take a sip, letting the liquid disappear on your tongue (no big swallow). Think about what the whiskey is like. Smell it some more. Think about what it’s like. Take another sip, and so on. There won’t be any actual vanilla in there, but you might on reflection smell (and even taste) a vanilla-like quality in the whiskey. Think about the variety of other qualities that give the whiskeys their individual characters, the qualities that distinguish them from each other.

I’ll make the rather strong claim that for a normal adult human who is (a) open to trying/liking whiskey and (b) going into the tasting with an open mind, that person will, over the course of smelling and sipping and smelling and sipping some more, distinguish a variety of qualities in the way the whiskeys smell and taste.

Third, for someone who does that A LOT, as part of his or her work, the ability to distinguish qualities in the whiskey becomes fairly fine-grained. I don’t always trust them. I sometimes think biases are in evidence. But look: I’ve never had any sense that such was the case with John; in fact, the evidence is against that being the case.

If you follow the suggestion above, I think you’ll at least realize that different whiskeys have quite distinct flavors. If you then imagine someone who tastes A LOT of whisk(e)ys, it shouldn’t be a problem to see that they can sincerely report an impressive range of qualities within a whisk(e)y. Moreover, there need be no claim to radical objectivity or completeness in order for the report/review to be honest, and within a range of normal tastes, reliable.

As there is in any practice of discerning reporting and discussing personal experiences there is an offensive mystical element in whisky appreciation. The always possible suspicion or accusation “he doesn’t really taste all that” attests to this… as does the always ready defense “how do you know what I taste?”

This element in whisky appreciation, which taken in isolation may as well be pure pretetionousness, is only legitimated by the active engagement of others who are intrested in knowing about a person’s whisky experience. Conversely an interest in knowing about someone else’s whisky experience calls for them to move in this element.

If a community of people have a sustained interest in knowing about eachother’s experiences, then they all move in this element and the element becomes transparent. Seemingly replaced by a common sense situation– shared interest in something and the attempt to discuss it– the mystical element remains visible only in the form of simple uncertainties and disagreements. These simple uncertanties and disagreements are generally inoffensive and not apparently pretentious.

You can either be interested in other people’s whisky experiences and welcome their interest in yours or not… And if you don’t, then we’ll all just seem pretentious to you.

I’ll bet that didn’t help, NLB, much but I feel better when I try

Tell you what, why don’t you tell us how you would inform others how a bourbon tastes? Since it appears that you believe that “crap” that isn’t put in can’t be used to describe the taste, I guess your tasting notes would be along the lines of: ” tastes kinda like corn and some [rye/wheat] soaked in water for a while and then aged in a burnt oak barrel. YUMMMY! Go git you some!” or “tastes kinda like corn and some [rye/wheat] soaked in water for a while and then aged in a burnt oak barrel. YUCKY! Don’t waste your money on this one!” I guess the only differences in your taste reviews for bourbon would be whether it was rye and/or wheat that is in with the corn and whether or not you thought it tasted good or not.

If you want to see pretentious, over the top reviews, check out any wine reviews – they try to outdo each other.

I am going to assume we both agree that we agree that whiskeys of the same type taste different. Describing these subtle differences are difficult. The way people ended up doing this is comparing subtle taste notes to other things most people have tasted.

This does sound a little silly and pretentious, but I haven’t heard of a better way to do this. Other people criticise grading spirits 0-100 as if there is some sort of objective perfection. Do you have any new ways to describe whiskey that could replace or augment current methods?

How would you suggest I describe a whiskey? Like Texas says below, “It tastes good” really doesn’t provide much guidance, without a description of how the whiskey tastes. Just saying that I think a particular chocolate cake tastes good would be bad guidance if you hate chocolate cake to begin with.

Or is it that you would simply prefer I (and other reviewers) don’t review whiskey at all, because you see no value in it?