W. Premiers

W. Premiers (real name Vladimir Levchenko) was born to a humble farming family in the Kharkiv Oblast but ranged deep into the east in order to seek out the finest ingredients and quickly established himself as one of THEE big names in the whisky game, building his first pot still by hand from scrap metal recovered from a battle damaged Soviet tank.
It's great to know that, even after all these years, the whisky bearing his name is still 'produced and bottled in the property'. The scrotal imagery when two bottles are placed side by side is a nice 'easter egg' for the bulk buying connisseur too.

Scotsmac.

Those of you taking notes will have observed that this was mentioned in an earlier entry and hawk-eyed readers will notice that this photo was taken in the UK. While not strictly a whisky, it has a whisky base and I was cock-a-hoop to find it as I hadn't seen a bottle in about eight years and presumed the company behind it had folded.
A blend of 'fine whisky' and white wine, this is a sort of new approach to the whisky mac concept. The price has skyrocketed in recent years to almost 5.50 but if you enjoy quickly becoming a volatile disgrace to yourself and a burden to your pals along with pounding, dread filled hangovers and sketchy, non-linear, memories of the night before then this is for you.

Euro Star.

Isn't this also the name of England - France train-line? This double measure, in it's own single-use nosing glass with handy peel-off foil lid, retails in a Latvian supermarket chain for the same price as the use of their in-store toilet. It's a brave new world.

Mackmyra.

I was humming and hawing about whether to include this one but feel it's deserving of a fair hearing. I was in Vilnius and saw an advert for a whisky bar in one of those free maps they hand out at tourist information points. I thought they'd have at least some of the sort of quality products I'm interested in among their 300 bottles but it turns out they mostly trade in boring, entry level, stuff like Bunnahaibhan Darach Ur, Caol Ila and Jura Superstition. They did have this little doozy from Sweden though. They dry their malt over juniper instead of peat so it sort of tastes like when you're at a party and there's not enough mugs so you just use one that someone's been drinking gin and lemonade out of. Surprising, but in a nice way.

Bartender's Club.

'Whit wis is that Groucho Marx once said? See onyb'dy that'd want somebody like me as a member ae thur club? They can get themsels tae fuck'.

The Glen Silvers.

Putting the definitive article in a product name always suggests class and gives off an air of pomposity that I quite like. It's also cool that Mr Silvers shares his Christian name with a geographical feature synonomous with really top quality whisky. Can't help but associate this with Phil Silvers though. He's also commited the cardinal sin of putting his own face on the box rather than something more appropriate like, say, a majestic eagle or a watercolour painting of a croft. Total vanity project.

Mac Callister.

This is what, ex-Leeds United and Scotland midfielder, Gary MacCallister has been upto since hanging up his boots. It would've gone down in the annals of whisky history as an all time classic if Uri Gellar hadn't flown over the distillery in his helicopter and used his mind to tamper with the mash. The red and white scarf atop the jarring stock photo of a castle is a clear nod to his time at Liverpool.