Hindustan Times (Noida)

Cask a spell

The world’s largest whisky market, India, is changing. Home-grown labels, once a thing to hide away, are now brands to boast about. See how single-malt makers are capitalisi­ng on climate, indigenous barley, and their Indian origins

- Shirin Mehrotra shirinmehr­otra@gmail.com

There’s something brewing in the whisky aisle. Join us as we decant. Until about 15 years ago, the world’s largest whisky market (because that’s what we are) relied on imports for its tipple. Today, the awards are flowing in for homegrown brands, and India is drinking premium whiskies that don’t just shout that they’re Indian, they explain why that counts. (Read on to see how the climate and barley here can actually make single-malts richer.) Fifteen years is what it has taken, to move the needle.

“Indian whisky used to be equated with molasses,” says author and columnist Vir Sanghvi. “It was traditiona­lly made by taking a neutral spirit (raw alcohol) made from a variety of sources — sugarcane and molasses in legend, but more likely rice these days — to which was added some kind of whisky flavouring, perhaps a real malt whisky. This was rarely aged for as long as Scotch, which is aged for at least three years, and usually for eight to 15. And so, when it hit the market, it was never as good as Scotch. But it was much, much cheaper.”

This was the stuff one drank in secret, as it were; when guests came over, one fished out an imported bottle. Because whisky has always been aspiration­al. It became popular in colonial India, among Indians looking to mirror the habits of the ruling British elite.

The whisky made by early Indian distilleri­es such as Piccadily in Punjab and Rampur in Uttar Pradesh were soughtafte­r for their price, not their aged excellence, and so they used a mix of local grains and imported single-malt to produce “blended” whisky, light in flavour and impact.

All that changed with the launch of the Amrut single-malt in India, in 2010. Amrut Distilleri­es was already more than 60 years old at this point, but neither the brand nor indeed India had ever produced a singlemalt: a pure, aged, rich whisky made from just barley.

In a perceptive move, this single-malt was first launched in Scotland, in 2004. By the time it came to India six years later, it was aspiration­al in an entirely new way.

It was unabashedl­y Indian (Amrut is Hindi for Food of the Gods). It was a recognised name overseas. It was winning awards, and thus certifiabl­y good.

It was the whisky a younger, wealthier, post-liberalisa­tion India had been waiting for. And it sparked a homegrown single-malt movement.

In 2012, John Distilleri­es, founded in 1996, launched Paul John. Rampur launched its eponymous version in 2016. The Indian arm of the British multinatio­nal Diageo launched an Indian-made Godawan (the Hindi name for the endangered Great Indian Bustard) in 2021; Piccadily launched Indri the same year. Gianchand, founded in 1961, released its single-malt in 2022.

Indian brands now account for about 53% of total single-malt sales in the country, according to 2023 data from the Confederat­ion of Indian Alcoholic Beverage Companies.

To us

It turns out, India has some unique advantages when it comes to single-malt production.

The climate affects both the barley and the ageing process in positive ways, allowing whiskies to age faster and emerge richer, says Sandeep Arora, whisky connoisseu­r, consultant, entreprene­ur, and consulting editor at Whisky Magazine, UK.

“In the northern plains of India, the temperatur­e oscillates between zero degrees Celsius in winter and 50 degrees Celsius in summer, with just two months of rain and 10 months of dry weather. This extreme temperatur­e makes the pores of a wooden cask expand and contract exponentia­lly, making the interactio­n between the wood and whisky much more pronounced, thereby imparting far more flavours to the liquid in a short period of time,” says Siddhartha Sharma, CEO of Piccadily, whose Indri Dru variant won Best Indian Single Malt at the World Whiskies Awards this year.

The indigenous six-row barley has a higher protein content and a more robust husk than the two-row barley grown in Scotland and Japan (another major producer), says Vikram Damodaran, chief innovation officer with Diageo India. “This means that the Indian whisky has to go through extra layers of filtration, which result in less volume but a higher concentrat­ion of flavours.”

The tale end

We still need to find the narratives to go with the brands.

Stories have shaped premium single-malt brands worldwide. Scotland’s Glenmorang­ie prides itself on having one of the best distillers in the world. Japan’s Yamazaki boasts of using the country’s purest water. Glenlivet, the prestigiou­s single-malt from Scotland, has an identity rooted in the unlawful distillati­on. It owes its smooth texture, the story goes, to the large copper pot stills it uses for distillati­on and maturation, which still resemble lanterns.

Beyond the barley and the climate, India is still finding its stories. Godawan, for instance, is made in Rajasthan and is working to revive ancient distillati­on processes there, including the slow-trickle method once used to make herbal liqueurs from spices such as saffron and cardamom, and flowers such as the rose.

The narratives will become vital as this massive market begins to draw a fresh wave of global attention.

Already, global giants are launching Indian-made brands. Godawan was an early mover. Last year, the French giant Pernod Ricard launched Longitude 77 (named for the meridian that runs the length of India). Foreign brands are launching Indian-made blended whiskies too.

“What we are seeing is the beginning of a genuine domestic whisky-making culture,” says Sanghvi. “It will have an artisanal luxury segment, such as the small-production Diageo whiskies, as well as more mass-focused brands. And it will have different terroirs, just as Scotland has distinctiv­e malts from different regions.”

Watch out for subtle notes of struggle, in the next few pours.

 ?? ??
 ?? ??
 ?? ??
 ?? ?? (Above) Barrels of whisky at a Piccadily distillery; a barrel is charred, to enhance flavour; Scot-style copper pot stills. (Below) In addition to homegrown single-malts such as Gianchand and Paul John, foreign makers are raising the stakes with labels such as Longitude 77, made in Nashik by the French giant Pernod Ricard.
(Above) Barrels of whisky at a Piccadily distillery; a barrel is charred, to enhance flavour; Scot-style copper pot stills. (Below) In addition to homegrown single-malts such as Gianchand and Paul John, foreign makers are raising the stakes with labels such as Longitude 77, made in Nashik by the French giant Pernod Ricard.
 ?? ??
 ?? ??
 ?? ??
 ?? ?? READ: A stirring in our spirits: Vir Sanghvi, on whiskies, then and now
READ: A stirring in our spirits: Vir Sanghvi, on whiskies, then and now

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from India