THE TROUBLE WITH TERROIR

Whisky flavour profiles may depend on the spirit’s fundamental ingredients, but using the term ‘terroir’ is not to be encouraged when it comes to the water of life,

The word 'terroir' is an exclusively wine affair, according to our whisky expert Blair Bowman

It’s a fascinating word, ‘terroir’, that has the power to conjure up romantic images of vineyards in balmy climes. It was almost exclusively a term reserved for the wine world, but seems to have ported over to whisky and spirits in recent years. For me, it feels out of place. It has been shoe-horned into industry leaders’ terminology, going against the grain.

The Oxford Companion to Wine defines terroir as ‘the total natural environment of any viticultural site’, stating that no precise English equivalent exists for this quintessentially French concept. In the recently published book The Terroir of Whiskey: A Distiller’s

Journey Into the Flavour of Place by Rob Arnold, he notes that ‘when a whisky truly harbors a sense of place, then the experience it provides goes beyond just the flavour’. This is precisely what I think the word terroir misses. It might account for the soil and ingredients, but it neglects the je ne sais quoi of people, traditions, and place. The simple act of sipping a whisky in Tokyo can transport the drinker to Islay in an instant.

Interestingly, swathes of whisky industry experts argue that the mere concept of terroir existing in whisky is a complete fallacy. Ultimately, I disagree

– but without using the word terroir. Whisky is by definition an organic (natural) product, and single malt is made from just three ingredients: water, malted barley and yeast. Until whisky can be made 100% synthetically, its profile will be influenced by the source of its ingredients. Most counter-arguments stress that whisky is distilled, and that any trace of terroir could not survive the distillation process (an argument that has now been disproved).

The majority of whisky producers focus on yield and consistency over flavour. Decades of research has allowed them to source specialist types of barley, improving yield without compromising the consistency of the spirit, which in turn helps companies make significant savings. Very often, the barley is sourced from far and wide, or travels like a Yo-Yo from field to maltings to distilleries.

The most recent trend, however, baffles me. Several whisky companies now specify that their barley is to be sourced locally (which seems reasonable at first), but bizarrely hardly any interest is shown in the flavour of said ingredient. On a recent Zoom whisky tasting, a distillery manager from a well-known whisky company said that the reason for this is primarily to support local jobs, but also to improve their marketing. Flavour did not come into the equation.

At the other end of the spectrum, several newer distilleries in Scotland are paying a premium to keep everything local – yes, to support their local economy, but also because they believe it makes a positive difference to the flavour of the end product. They also mature everything on-site rather than in warehouses hundreds of miles away.

One of my biggest reservations about using the word ‘terroir’ in a whisky context is that many of the spirit’s components can come from different places, unlike wine which uses the same vines year in, year out. Just as barley can come from far and wide, so too can the yeast, which can be sourced from as far away as South Africa. It is only when the ingredients are combined in a single location, then matured in a select cask, that the ultimate whisky is born.

It only takes a whisky tasting to prove that the source of ingredients – or an alteration of just one element, barley – can change the flavour profoundly. I have, for instance, tasted two whiskies from Waterford Distillery, the sole difference between the two being the barley that was used in its production. The drams were distinct. A recent study backed by Mark Reynier, founder of Waterford, claims ‘conclusive proof’ that terroir does exist in whisky. However, the study only looked at new-make spirits under lab conditions.

Further research with matured whisky is needed before such claims can be made.

So, what word might replace ‘terroir’? I’m the co-founder of a whisky club on Clubhouse, an audioonly social media app with over 3,000 members. In our recent discussion about terroir, a native Gaelic speaker mooted the idea of the word ‘dualchas’ (doo-al-chas), meaning culture, tradition, heritage and character. There was unanimous agreement. Instead of trying to force a wine-shaped peg into a whisky-shaped hole, might we turn to our Gaelic roots for a solution?

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Sipping a whisky in Tokyo can transport the drinker to Islay in an instant