Pairing: Bill Lumsden, a director at Glenmorangie Company in Scotland, advises dark chocolate with whisky, an excellent choice for the Manjari dark chocolate tart. Photos: Supplied & Carol Sachs
For this article I did some rabbit-holing on using whisky with food. Three articles stood out for me.
The Guardian: “Cooking with whisky: great ingredient or waste of a dram?”
BBC Good Food: “Top 10 ways to cook with whisky.”
Vice: “Can you eat yourself drunk?”
It was in preparation for a dinner at the Saxon Hotel in Sandton, Johannesburg. I had cracked an invite to dine with Bill Lumsden, Glenmorangie’s director of distilling, whisky creation and whisky stocks, and one of the world’s most awarded master distillers.
I didn’t want to come across as a moegoe to the Scotsman, who is here to launch the new Glenmorangie Triple Cask Reserve, hence all my prep.
About 40 of us are gulping amuse-bouches down with whisky cocktails. At first I’m reluctant because “isn’t it a waste of good whisky?”
Lumsden is on his fourth visit to South Africa. He is down-to-earth, self-deprecating and seriously funny.
First, how to pronounce the name of the distiller he has worked for since 1995.
In his “Glenmorangie” the accent is on the “mor”, but, he adds in his Scottish burr, “I often get corrected, particularly in bars in Glasgow, which is where I’m from. Many people say, ‘No, no, no son, you’re wrong it’s Glen-moo-run-gee.’”
Their accent is on the “run”, but pronounced “ran”.
“But to be honest, and apologies for my language here … I don’t give a fuck how people pronounce it as well as you buy it, drink it and enjoy it,” Lumsden says. “That’s all that matters.”
He tasted his first single malt whisky at a student party in 1994 when he was at Heriot-Watt University in Edinburgh, studying aspects of fermentation science for his PhD.
“I tasted it, and some people don’t believe me, but this was genuinely Glenmorangie 10-year-old. I remember thinking, ‘My God, this is actually pretty interesting stuff.’”
What if that first encounter didn’t happen?
“I probably would not be standing here today, as I would not have decided my career should be in Scotch whisky. I would have become a lawyer or … a porn star or something like that.”
More laughter.
Lumsden started his whisky career at Distillers, but joined Glenmorangie on 20 February 1995.
“The date sticks in my mind because it was my late father’s birthday, and he was even more delighted than I was … because he quite rightly worked out that he was going to get a limitless supply of whisky, and dad was a big whisky drinker.”
The Saxon’s executive chef, Matthew Foxon, is handed the mic: “Whisky is not easy to pair with because of the high alcohol content, so when we did the pairing, we cooked the serpent out.”
He is fortunately talking to the converted.
“It definitely helps to enjoy and understand the flavours of the whisky and then obviously better to pair the whisky to it.”
Our starter: a carpaccio of Atlantic swordfish with citrus cure, beetroot and cinnamon gel, buttermilk labneh, Oscietra caviar and crispy sago. (Only Beluga is more expensive than Oscietra caviar, I found out later).
We are served Glenmorangie Triple Cask Reserve as a pairing.
I ask Lumsden what food one should not pair with whisky.
“I have to think about it,” he replies, but quips: “I would probably say don’t drink whisky and cognac at the same time, but I think you’re meaning food here …”
People around our table reach the consensus that it must be anything that’s going to numb your taste buds, such as garlic.
“Certainly, in Scotland — when cooking at home — we’ll have whisky as the aperitif. We’ll serve wine with the dinner, have whisky as the digestif and” — Lumsden gets a playful smile — “then we’ll go out and fight our next-door neighbour.”
He tells us about a gentleman who lived around the corner from him who lived until he was 98. “George had a dram of whisky every day with his porridge, and he said it just kick-started his day.”
I tell Lumsden about a great BBC podcast series called Soul Music. We find out that we both love Burt Bacharach and Hal David’s music; he prefers Dionne Warrick’s interpretation of I Say a Little Prayer For You, while my favourite is Aretha Franklin’s version.
How does one go about pairing whisky and music? I ask him.
“One of my favourite ways of relaxing is cooking,” he says. “My other one is to have my dram of whisky while listening to music.
“I like rock music, but that is not my whisky-drinking music. It is jazz, and I particularly like Latin jazz — Stan Getz-style stuff. I just find that when you have music that touches your soul, that’s the time to be enjoying your whisky.”
Our main dish is venison: Oudtshoorn ostrich, cigar-smoked fillet, coffee and vanilla cure, braised neck, salt-baked celeriac, fennel slaw, with blackberry jus. It is paired with a 10-year-old Glenmorangie.
Before the dessert, Lumsden introduces us to the star of the evening: an 18-year-old whisky, and what works best as a pairing.
“I like it with shrimp, scallop or foie gras. It works very well with a vanilla panna cotta for dessert; also, a very good quality Italian Parmigiano Reggiano cheese. Then, chocolate, particularly dark chocolate, works well with most whiskies.”
It is put to the test with our last course: a Manjari dark chocolate tart, Glenmorangie caramel, pecan praline, date pudding and fig ice cream. Chef Foxon used a whole bottle of 18-year-old in the delicious dessert. Interspersed with sips of the original, for me this is a pairing made in gastronomical heaven.
The idea that was put to the test in the Vice article briefly crosses my mind: can you eat yourself drunk? Not sure — but with the amount of Scottish juices that went over my lips I can say with 100% certainty that one can drink oneself drunk.