Now, as I sit upon my floor looking at what may be
considered to most simplistic and unimaginative bottles that houses any type of
hard liquor, I find myself asking a very important question. “Have I just made
a premium mistake?” And no, I am not referring to the fact that I am sitting on
the floor (although it does happen to be quite comfortable). I am referring to
how I, and many others I converse with, have not heard one good thing about
this particular whisky. Not even the individuals who work at the liquor store I
visited had anything good to say (which is shown by the caked on amount of dust
that I had to scrape off the top of the bottle). For us, the name Canadian Club
instills such a feeling of disgust we almost feel the need to reevaluate our
lives and question or not we live in a reality that actually produces such a
horrendous thing.
But is
Canadian whisky really all that terrible? It is often spoken of as a poor
quality whisky (possibly due to the extreme lack of regulations in Canada that
essentially allows distillers to throw whatever they have from a barrel into a
bottle, add some colour and call it whisky). But this is a bias pushed onto us
by nearly everyone who has ever tried it, and so I took it upon myself to start
at the bottom of the barrel and lick what drops had fallen onto the dingy bar
floor that I somehow ended up in. And that means I am starting with the
cheapest bottle of whisky I could find from Canada. Coming in at $12 (including
tax!) is this dingy brown bottle of Canadian Club Premium Extra Aged Blended
Canadian Whisky Imported 1858 (what does “Premium Extra Aged” even mean?). I am
hoping that it is the exact opposite of everything I have ever heard about
Canadian Club, mainly because of the wonderful shiny gold label on the neck
indicating that it was the 2013 gold winner of the International Spirits
Challenge. So hopefully that means something!
As I
pour the amber liquid into my glass, my nose furls slightly. Does the whisky
really smell that unappetizing already or is my cold simply getting in the way
of me being able to detect all of the notes? Perhaps I should lean in for a
closer smell. Breathing in I begin to cough slightly, realizing I could have
gotten the same effect and essentially the same smell if I stuck my nose into a
bottle of rubbing alcohol. It has a nearly perfect one note aroma, but curiously,
I start to concentrate. I begin to detect notes of a cheap, bottom shelf bottle
of chardonnay, and a hint of green vegetation, although quite faintly.
Suprisingly, there was virtually no burn, whatsoever. Deeply dissatisfied with
the nose I prepare myself, physically, mentally, and emotionally, for the next
endeavor. Tasting.
One of
the first things I notice is that the nose, and the bottle’s description, were
hugely misleading. There is a hefty burn as you feel it ignite the back of your
tongue, quickly sliding down the back of your esophagus just as petrol would.
But onwards I must persist. I brace myself for another sip and tilt the glass
back letting the liquid cover my tongue. The taste is a bit more complex than
at first sip, but clearly not “premium extra aged.” The notes are almost like
that of a white (unaged) whisky. Clear tastes of cut grass are then taken over
by a heavy, medicinal flavor, quite bitter, almost like if you licked the
freshly cleaned floor of a hospital surgery room. With such a young taste to
the whisky, I cannot help but wonder if Canadian Club simply took its “blend”
of whisky, and simply poured it into a barrel so that they could add whatever
caramel coloring they could find before bottling it and shipping it directly to
someone’s dusty basement to go untouched, which is essentially how much time it
seems to have spent aging. The finish fortunately ends quick, leaving behind
only a slight astringent after taste and a gentle burn of the tongue.
I
certainly can see why so many people dislike Canadian Club whisky as much as
they do and find myself questioning the judging abilities of the International Spirits
Challenge judges (or perhaps the entries in 2013 were simply the quality of that
ash tray I made in kindergarten). I for one hope to never see this in my liquor
cabinet again anytime soon (although I assume I will be constantly seeing it
due to my inability to bring myself to pour another glass with much enthusiasm
at all). But I must assert that it is not a bad whisky at all, for there is no
such thing, though it is certainly at the bottom of the list of all the ones I
have tasted. Its remarkably simple flavor palate for a blended whisky would
most certainly make itself ideal for that poor college student who needed
something to mix with their store brand, liter, bottle of cola that they got on
sale for $1 in order to get wasted enough to make another poor life decision.
The first mistake of the evening being that they bought this bottle of whisky.
- Review
by John of The GC Whisky Trip
