1+1=3 – Matching Whisky + Food
A Plenary Discussion - Malt Whisky Society of Australia
International Whisky Convention - Sydney, Augusts 2005
By Franz Scheurer ©
Presentation / Abstract
Taste – How and where we taste
Matching drink to food
Difference between wine and spirits
Regionality – Help or hindrance?
Matching - Basics and rules
Breaking the rules
Myths and more myths
Epilogue, discussion and questions
You might well ask; “Who’s this guy and what qualifies him to speak about what I should drink with my food?” Well, the answer lies in age, experience, multi-continent living, a keen, educated palate, a passion for food, wine and Single Malts, a sense of irreverence and a few very successful Whisky and wine matching dinners! I grew up in the hotel industry in Switzerland. My dad had one of the top ten restaurants and was a teacher at the hotel school in Lausanne. He was also the wine and spirits buyer for the Swiss Hotel industry, which meant trips to France, Italy and Spain a couple of times a year, every year. Traipsing along from my earliest memories all I can say is that trying a barrel sample of Bordeaux at 8.00 in the morning is far from a pleasant experience, but, at that age, you do learn a lot. I reckon by the time I was seven I could cook every dish on my parents’ restaurant’s menu and by age ten I knew that Burgundy meant Pinot Noir and Chardonnay, Loire spelled Vouvray and Cabernets and Merlot represented Bordeaux. I probably even knew what a Petit Verdot was and that it represented the ‘perfume’ in the blending of classic Bordeaux. Never having stopped loving food, wine and spirits (you get a thorough education on spirits growing up in Switzerland; there are more Eau de Vie / Schnapps to the square kilometre there than anywhere else in the world) I kept educating my palate, filling my taste memory and reaffirming it on a daily basis. So what you have in front of you is a very seasoned eater and drinker with a very good recollection of tastes and textures. This, I reckon, qualifies me at least for an opinion.
Now I’m going to talk about how we taste and what we taste and how to use this knowledge to match drink to food. I will get to the good stuff (Whisky and food matching) eventually, but we first need to explore our body, other beverages and more, to be able to understand how to succeed in matching a Single Malt to a plate of food.
Taste – How and where we taste
To understand ‘Taste’ we must first examine what we taste and where. Let me enlist the help of Dr. Max Lake, the world’s foremost expert on all matters of taste. Let me try and summarise what he wrote in his book ‘Taste’:
Life began in the sea or a swamp and we continue to get flavour information via a watery medium that bathes our nose and mouth. We are aware of at least ten sorts of taste from sensors all over the mouth and throat. A glance at evolution explains why there are different tastes and how we make use of them. An ideal model is the worm… any worm. It is basically a tube with an inlet and outlet. It senses five groups of taste molecules along its body length, information is conveyed to a knob over the opening of the inlet by a couple of nerve filaments which run along its length. Its nutrition and survival depend on the efficiency of that simple system. In humans, five sensations, dubbed the primary taste quintet, are relayed by three separate cranial nerves to a centre in the medulla. This is in the hindbrain, at the junction of the head and neck. The centre itself, not much to look at, is the nucleus of the solitary tract, now nicknamed the worm’s ‘taste brain’. The nucleus of the solitary tract causes the release of noradrenalin, which assists the perception of emotional memory. It is also one of the main sources of endorphins and happy hormones. The worms five sensations have come to be referred to as SOUR, SALTY, SWEET, BITTER and UMAMI.
So let’s examine these in more detail:
SOUR is the first thing we taste. This is because there is quite a narrow range of acidity and alkalinity in which life survives, centred around the neutral ph level of 7. If the worm fails to stay here it frizzles. Earlier teachings positioned the concentration of certain tastes into specific areas, but all tastes are now known to be perceived all over the mouth and throat. However, I agree with Max Lake’s personal observation that he finds that the concentration of sweet sensors are at the tip of the tongue, sour and salty at the sides and bitter and umami at the back of the mouth and in the upper throat, which does swim somewhat against the current tide. The capacity of acid to enhance sensory impression is a big benefit when blending flavours. Any cook worth his or her salt has learnt how to liven up dull-flavoured food with a splash of citrus or other acidic flavours like verjus or one of the many fruit vinegars, thereby lifting the flavour of the middle palate. Go too far, however and the result is not redeemable.
SALT is part of the indicator system of electrolyte levels in body fluids – consequently they promote equilibrium. Salt is the pillar of cooking flavour. First perceived at a concentration of about 0.025% it is universally recognised as a strong flavour stimulant. It has some ability to lessen or ‘round of’ sweetness. Some bottled mineral waters have high salt levels.
SWEET, sugar, according to Jean-Anthelm Brillat-Savarin, is the universal condiment. Sugar is perceived at around 0.5% sucrose concentration in cane sugar (a mix of glucose and fructose). It adds significantly to ‘mouthfeel’ and adds ‘body’ to soft drinks. Fructose is more than twice as sweet as the chemically identical glucose. Sugar has three remarkable properties: emotionally it may evoke warm and pleasant feelings, sweetness lessens appetite and can shut it down completely, sweetness lifts the fragrance of substances that contain it. A wine with a higher sugar content has a more lifted bouquet than an otherwise identical but less sweet wine.
BITTER is perceived at a tiny 0.00005% concentration. It is an evolutionary warning of potentially toxic alkaloids in plants. But there is a flaw in the design as it is one of the slowest tastes to register, taking up to 10 seconds or more. Bitter is increasingly attractive to the palate with age. It certainly can stimulate appetite. A large percentage of people from Western India (40%) have a bitterness ‘blind-spot’, due to a recessive gene. Bitterness is often confused with astringency, which is registered by different nerve pathways.
UMAMI was first described as a separate taste by Kikunae Ikeda in 1908. ‘Tastiness’, ‘delicious’, ‘savoury’, ‘meat broth’’ are some of the descriptors used in the West. It is a marker for the presence of amino acids and comprises the flavour of amino acid complexes; the public face is MSG, monosodium glutamate, which was extracted from the traditional soup seasoning made from kelp. Umami achieved due recognition after a major Japanese symposium in Hawaii in the 1970s. MSG extracted from seaweed is recognised at 0.03% concentration. It lessens the desire for salt and increases the flavour of meats. Concentrated stocks of chicken, seafood, some vegetables, beef and veal in particular, are the secret addition of many great cooks.
There is still much to learn from the seemingly inaccessible parts of the human brain. How remarkable is the fact that taste neurones in the brain can respond to different tastes, but usually respond best to one?
Tastes other than the ‘wormy’ group appear later in taste evolution and travel by a different path, the trigeminal or fifth cranial nerve. These include pain/pungency (a good example being chilli heat), hot/cold, texture/crunch, mouthfeel and astringency.
ASTRINGENCY is registered when the salivary proteins, which coat the mouth lining, are coagulated by food or drink. The tannin fraction of wine contains gallic acid, which precipitates proteins. Thus we perceive an astringent, dry finish to the average red wine.
Last but by no means least is the physical sensation of tingling of the lips and front of the mouth when drinking kava (a drink widely made in Polynesia, from the pounded roots of the Piper Methysticum plant) or when eating fugu rubripes, the notorious puffer fish so loved by wealthy Japanese adrenalin junkies. Its liver and ovaries secrete a deadly toxin, the earliest signal of which is a tingling of the lips. The next in a deadly crescendo of signs is an ante-mortem increase of libido, which seems to be the reason for its pursuit in that culture. A far safer (and probably tastier) food item, with a similar effect on the nervous system is Sancho or Szechuan pepper, which leaves a feeling of ‘tiny bubbles popping’ on your tongue.
Odour is said to be the catalyst of memory. Without the ability to perceive aromas, to smell, our taste experience is greatly reduced. The evolutionary new cerebral cortex is a great functional divide; it heralds the dawn of intelligent choice in, and fine-tuning of, perception. Two of the greatest neuroanatomists of the twentieth century considered the cerebral cortex to have evolved from an olfactory bud at the front end of an early life form. We are because we smell! During the 40 weeks of gestation, the human embryo builds a smell brain (also called rhinencephalon), and developmentally recapitulates half a billion years of evolution in its growth. After the first two years of life we see something like the finished article, just waiting to be improved with experience and training over that individual’s lifetime. It was interesting to hear Graham Bell, the inventor of the incredible e-nose, being interviewed on the ABC and admitting that his work would never be done as the scope of odour and its permutations are endless.
Our body perceives aromas and tastes the exact same way, be it food or liquids, but each person perceives flavour in his or her unique way. Although trainable to link certain flavours to a specific name everyone still perceives them in his or her unique way. There is no right or wrong!
Now let’s look at our favourite subject, Whisky!
It pays to remember what Whisky is: it’s distilled beer, nothing more, nothing less. The only difference between the beer from which Scotch Whisky is made and the beer you might have downed earlier on, is the fact that Scotch Whisky beer contains no hops; in other words, no bitter element. Whisky is fundamentally different in flavour profile to a fruit spirit (and brandy has to be counted as a fruit spirit, too). So don’t expect that just because you had a Crepe Normande accompanied by a Calvados that blew your mind, that you could substitute the Calvados with Whisky. However there IS a Whisky that will go with Sauerkraut.
The flavour of all Whisky is determined by, a widely accepted, 15 different categories.
Maybe nice, maybe not (depending on strength and predilections of drinker):
Not nice or downright nasty:
The notion that the water affects the taste of the Whisky is ‘the biggest myth that we, as an industry, have perpetrated’, according to Diageo’s Douglas Murray. ‘Islay distilleries may use nature’s open-air supplies, but other distilleries (including those, that produce much admired malts like Oban) rely on municipal water supplies. This may or may not be true, let the experts argue, however, I do believe that the water you use to dilute a Single Malt most definitely does affect its taste. If you use Sydney’s tap water you will retain its dirty, chlorinated flavours. I have found that Fiji Water, a bottled still water product, works best, having absolutely no adverse effect on the Whisky, being extremely neutral and very low in salt.
Taste memory is the most important helper when it comes to the matching of food and drink.
The mantra must be: Experience, experience, and experience! Remember, remember, and remember!
The perfect palate belongs to a 16 year old female (nothing is sharper than a naïve, young palate, so if you are young, listen and learn is the key) and as you get older your palate’s sensitivity reduces until, by age 50, it’s really only half as good as it was when you were a teen. This is no reason to get depressed, however. You may no longer perceive all the nuances, but if you have trained your palate, then the power of recognition will come to your aid. We can’t cram for a taste memory. It takes time and effort and dare I say, money. To educate your palate is not cheap and unfortunately there are many frogs and few princes, but kiss them all you must. This is the only way to eventually differentiate, knowing the difference that terroir, ingredients and production methods make and recognising taints and faults. Terroir can be translated as the characteristics attributable to the place of origin; in Whiskies this would mean the use of local peat, the taste of the local water used and the influence of the air (and weather) during the Whiskies’ long maturation. It is interesting to realise that in wine, as much as in Whiskies, it is easier to recognise a single variety / distillery’s signature than a blend. To recognise a Gewürztraminer with its distinctive lychee and spicy flavour profile is easy, as is a ‘cats pissy’ Sauvignon Blanc. However a blend of three varieties, whatever the mix, makes recognition almost impossible. The same goes for Single Malts with obvious signatures, think Laphroaig, Lagavulin or Ardbeg then try and define the origins of a blend where the blender tries to achieve harmony and integration of flavours. The presence of one strong flavour affects our perception of another so it stands to reason that the presence of a lot of flavours compounds that effect, not simply adds to it. Ergo, the definition of single flavours becomes harder.
Matching drink to food
There is proof that Whisky was being made in Scotland in 1494. The Exchequer Rolls for that year clearly states: “Eight balls of malt for Friar John Cor, by order of the King, to make aqua vitae’. With a history of over 500 years of Whisky consumption one would assume that mankind has learnt how to match it to food. Alas, one of the biggest hurdles to overcome when matching drink and food is the fact that you really need to know intimately the flavour profile of the items you want to match. Therein lies a problem. Most drinkophiles, be it a wine enthusiast or a Whisky aficionado, tend to taste and build a memory of their favourite tipple but not of the plethora of food items with which they can be matched. Similarly, a chef is focused on the food, delegating drink to second fiddle. It is indeed rare to find a person with a seriously trained food AND drink palate and that is exactly what you need to succeed.
There are ‘rules’ and they don’t differ all that much whether a gang of youths is discussing which Raspberry Cola to have with their fries or a bunch of Noveau Riche discuss which Vodka to have with Beluga. A bad drink match can ruin the best dish in the world, as indeed can the best malt be ruined with a careless food match. Our palate is affected by what we combine. We may taste a wonderful dish and a wonderful drink, but if they don’t match, once we’ve tasted them together, our palate is tainted and we can no longer enjoy the individual parts separately. If, however there’s harmony in the matrimony of the spirit and the food then it’s instant seventh heaven: the result way exceeding the sum of its parts, ergo the 1+1=3. Food needs liquid and drink needs food. There is no cuisine in this world that stands totally alone and works 100% without complementary drink (with the possible exception of Thai, which is an incredibly self-contained cuisine, striving for total balance of sweet, hot, salty and sour, where soup will often fill the role of liquid refreshment). So if we agree that we need to have a drink when we’re eating, we might as well put some thought into it and get it right.
Difference between wine and spirits
The main difference between matching food and wine and matching food and spirits is the extra dimension that high alcohol brings to the match with its immediate and profound effect on the palate. If you mix SCR (Spirit Vini Rect) absolute alcohol (any pharmacist will stock it) with distilled water, you will experience a dramatic and pronounced sweetness at a concentration of 10%, and start to get spirit burn at around 20%. Keep this in mind when you’re matching spirits with food as the higher the alcoholic concentration the more it will leave a ‘heat’ impression (akin to white pepper) on your palate.
Regionality – Help or hindrance?
No doubt regionality made matching spirits to food easier in the ‘Good Old Days’. However with today’s distilling and finishing techniques, the myriad of different wood finishes, the quest for peat in just about every area, exceptionally young releases and rare and venerable old releases, all serve to blur the lines and make it harder and harder to recognise terroir. The idea that a distillery produces one Whisky is fast becoming dated, especially when a large corporation sells a distillery to an independent. Only lack of imagination stops them from varying the style. Styles are changing; look at the ‘Lord of the Isles’, who would ever recognise that as an Ardbeg on the first tasting? Or consider the ‘Kildalton 1980’ from the same distillery, with its lack of peat and its sweet, orangey and Christmas-cakey flavours. This makes it a lot harder because you have to remember individual drams, not just regions. Gone are the days when peat equalled Islay and green, fruity flavours were automatically synonymous with Speyside.
Quite often a Whisky with a very distinctive flavour profile will come to the aid of your food/drink match. Once you have tasted the ‘meaty’ character of a Mortlach (achieved due to its 2.7 times distilling process, a collection of 3 wash and 3 spirit stills of totally different shapes working together with steep lyne arms which plunge into cooled worm tubs, all of which helps to ‘exhaust’ the copper and produce a denser, more sulphuric spirit, which eventually translates into ‘oxtail’ flavours) or the even meatier Benrinnes (the main difference being a 60-100 hour ferment, compared to 58 hours at Mortlach), you will never forget it and it will be immediately apparent when a match is possible, e.g. a clarified venison broth or a hearty oxtail soup or stew. At the opposite end of the flavour spectrum, an old-fashioned sherried Macallan (not the new, and in my opinion rather inferior, cost saving exercise called the ‘Fine Oak’ range) with its sweet, textured sherry flavours is the perfect drink to use instead of Sherry. Match it with Spanish tapas and enjoy the flavour explosion. As we are talking about Whisky and food matching don’t overlook the blends, either. They offer a much lighter, milder alternative, especially with some of the delicate, light and aromatic versions like a Cutty Sark, for instance, which, by the way, is totally free of caramel, too!
Another thing you must keep in mind is that many Single Malts these days are chill-filtered. Although this prevents a Whisky from going cloudy/hazy when cold water is added (unless the Whisky is at least 48% a/vol), it also robs it of some of its unction and complexity of flavour. This becomes particularly important if the perfect match actually demands a dash of water, releasing a henceforth-dormant flavour profile. This is a very important factor to remember when you’re trying to achieve a perfect match: Water releases dormant aromas! You MUST smell and taste a Whisky with a dash of water in the process of matching it to food, even if you decide to recommend drinking it neat. You can’t appreciate all the dormant flavours any other way.
Matching - basics and rules
Matching of food and drink certainly has rules. Weights must match. Match light drinks to subtle food and full bodied tipples to robust tucker. Regarding flavours we can consider similarity, but also opposites (they attract, you know). Colour (white or red) relevant in the case of wine, largely becomes irrelevant with spirits.
With Whisky and food matching we must also consider the impact of the alcohol strength on the palate. Highly aromatic spices and spice heat often blow a match out of the water, unless we also match the heat with the correct concentration of alcohol or, in some cases, sweetness or viscosity. Remember that a much-neglected beverage, cider, both in its alcoholic and non-alcoholic form, can be a formidable match.
Formula for successful matches
When we’re matching purely protein to drink we do need to look at weight. A light, white meat, like chicken or white-fleshed fish, needs a light drink match and an aged piece of beef needs something heavier and more substantial. Obviously the overall flavour profile, in other words what we do with the protein, will need to be considered. When we cook the protein everything that we do to it, or serve with it, will have a considerable effect on the successful match.
Generally we can match similarities, by using the drink we’re matching in the preparation of the dish: marron in a butter reduction sauce flavoured with a specific Speyside will work if the same Whisky is served with the dish. (Note: Do not ever use an inferior Whisky for cooking, the old IT adage ‘garbage in, garbage out’ is most certainly true. The rule is simple: If you don’t want to drink it, don’t use it for cooking!)
But we also need to look at opposites. Match chilli heat to sweetness, cut through a particularly sweet dish with an acidic drink, or use the same acidic match to cut through excess fat / richness in a dish. A dry iodiny, coastal Whisky will work with freshly shucked oysters (matching similarities), but so will a Whisky with some weight and sweetness, maybe something finished in an Oloroso cask (matching opposites).
One of the reasons that most Whisky/food matching events fail is that the range of available flavour profiles is kept too narrow. You’d be hard pressed to come up with an interesting meal when all you have to match to are Speyside Whiskies. The other reason is that the organisers often don't have the guts to follow through and instead of matching a Whisky with every course and show that it does indeed work, they take the 'safe' option and also serve wine.
This does not work!
As soon as you mix grain and grape you seriously affect the palate's ability to focus. You will also see the diners switch forwards and backwards totally ruining any synergy that might be achieved by sticking to either grape or grain. I believe you get away with mixing Whisky and beer but never Whisky and wine. This seriously worries me, as profile matches are very different and not compatible.
I'll try to illustrate what I mean: let us assume we have a dish of 'Seared Scallops with Black Sesame Paste sitting on top of an Emincée (ragout) of Pork Trotter with Morel Mushrooms'. This can be matched beautifully with an Alsatian Gewurztraminer or Alsatian Tokay Pinot Gris. The spiciness and lychee flavours in the wines match the Chinese undertones of the dish and the sweetness marries with the trotters. Perfect match. You can also match this dish beautifully with a Talisker Distillers' Edition 1990. Its peppery forward palate will work well with the Chinese influences and the salty brininess of the Whisky will work with the pork and the slightly higher alcohol (45.8%) will cut through the fattiness. However, if you then have a mouthful of wine the Whisky will suddenly appear overly acidic and flat and the wine will now appear flabby and overly sweet. End effect: no match with either liquid.
Breaking the rules
Once we know the rules, we can break them… or can we? Rules, and never call them ‘fools rules’ as they are time honoured and work more often than not, are fun to break, just don’t lose subtleties while sinning. Nevertheless, rules, especially trivial rules that do nothing else but curtail our sense of adventure, annoy me. Most people have a really hard time envisaging a Whisky and food match. Why? Because it’s not the norm, we are not used to it. Who said you couldn’t consume Whisky with food? Who dictates that it must be at a certain temperature, in a specific glass, with or without water? We do! Collectively, we all accept the norm. So let’s break the rules and think outside the square. Whisky is not an easy match for food. It’s strongly flavoured and high in alcohol, and at the same time incredibly complex with layered tastes and hidden flavour profiles. But this is the exact reason that when we get it right it’s so incredibly rewarding. By working with the predominant character of a specific Whisky and finding a dish, which either complements, echoes, or in the case of the strongest flavoured Whiskies, stands up to the challenge, we can find matches that work. They not only open up the subtle complexities in the Whisky but bring out new flavours in the food, and do so in a way which seems perfectly natural, not contrived or forced, ergo, 1+1=3
It’s imperative to be adventurous and without preconceptions. Take a heady, fragrant Whisky like Linkwood’s 12 y/o with its Granny Smith and apple blossom flavours, its ‘grassy, meadow in bloom’ character, and match it to a farmhouse cheddar. Try the raisiny, sweet, dried fruit, full of black berries signature of a Dalmore 12 y/o with a classic dish of venison or hare, served with redcurrant or cranberry jelly or try a smoky Laphroaig 15 y/o with smoked eel, unagi or smoked salmon. These are subliminal matches that manage to enhance both the dram and the dish. Dishes with extreme flavours that generally do not match easily with wine, think pickled foods like sauerkraut or Szechuan vegetables, chilli-hot dishes or many cheeses and of course chocolate, are easily matched with Whisky. Try a Cu Dhub black Single Malt with the pickled flavours and the added caramel in the malt will accentuate the difference in flavours and bring out the best in both drink and food. Imagine a really hot dish like the White Pepper Soup from Western China and match it to a cask strength Dallas Dhu and you will find that the texture of the 61.9% alcohol and the layered flavours of demerera sugar make for a perfect match, again enhancing both drink and food. You might guess that the subtlety of Japanese food would be swamped by the robust flavours of Whisky, however you will be surprised just how well a balanced Speyside Whisky will work, especially once we introduce wasabi or pickled ginger. Blue cheese flavours will marry fantastically with a Bowmore Dawn, with Port cask finish at 51.5% alcohol, and it’s hard to go past an Ardbeg Lord of the Isles with chocolate.
When starting to match Whisky and food, even a person with a seasoned palate and a great taste memory might need to sit down and try a few Whiskies with a specific dish until a perfect match is attained. This is a whole new world where experience is invaluable, but once mastered, it will bring joy to all around the table. Remember that it is a lot easier to match a Whisky to an existing dish than to cook a dish to match an existing Whisky. The reason is simply ‘time’. Once you have a dish cooked, ready to eat, it is not hard to try a few Whiskies for a perfect match if your first choice isn’t working, but it’s much harder or nigh impossible to re-flavour the dish if it doesn’t’ match the drink. This is no doubt a terrific argument for keeping a wide range of Whiskies on hand!
Myths and more myths
We match white wine with white meat, red wine with red meat and Tallisker from the Isle of Skye with oysters, right? Not necessarily! One of the great fallacies is matching protein with a drink. Let’s examine this. Lets find a match for chicken and let’s follow the fool’s rules: white meat, light weight. So, following the rules we match it with a drink that has little wood, no tannin and is light and refreshing. Hmm…so that might work with grilled chicken with a squeeze of lemon, however, what about if we introduce chilli? How about a Thai Green Curry of Chicken? Or a spicy Moroccan chook? Now suddenly we need a touch of sweetness to make this work. We must match to the flavour profile of the dish, in other words, how it’s cooked, NOT to the protein.
Old is better, right? Not necessarily. Older Whiskies are not necessarily better than younger Whiskies. Quality doesn’t really change, only complexity. Young Whiskies have phenols, sweet and fruity flavours that get lost in the ageing process. Increased complexity due to the time in wood can be a marvellous thing but, I would suggest we don’t have a better Whisky, just a different Whisky.
It’s also interesting to realise that Single Malts’ alcohol levels drop as they age whereas Cognacs’ increase. Why is this so? With the help of MWSoA’s resident scientist, Paul Gooding, we worked out that this is due to evaporation, but how? Let me quote Paul: “Basically, the way to separate water from alcohol is what we call distillation - and that involves lots of energy in the form of heat. In a cellar, that kind of energy is never available - so it’s not to do with temperature per se. However, a clear difference between cellars in different geographical locations is humidity (unless they have a control system). When you have a fixed amount of energy that is less than that required to actually boil off the liquids, then the forces of vapour pressure come into play. In a very damp, humid cellar (Scotland) the air is essentially saturated with water and, under standard temperature and pressure, the water in a barrel of spirit won't evaporate (well, in fact it will but if the system is at equilibrium then for every molecule of water that leaves the mixture, another one condenses back into it - but that's getting a bit pedantic). However, the ethanol will happily evaporate so long as the air doesn't become saturated with ethanol, and in a draughty Scottish cellar this obviously won't happen. Move south to France, enter a dry cellar, perhaps with a concrete floor and "voila" the water will evaporate off as the air is much drier than in a Scottish barn. Obviously alcohol will evaporate off as well and what happens in an individual barrel will depend on the percentage of alcohol. The vapour pressure of the water and ethanol determines the rates.”
Seems the angels get more of their share in Scotland!
Epilogue, Discussion and Questions
I have talked about how we taste, what we taste and how we can put this knowledge to work to further the enjoyment of drink consumed with food.
Ok, questions… Geez I’m dry, anyone carrying a hip flask?
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