Spirits Of Sips and Ships

So much has been written about our Founding Fathers’ penmanship, dental work, sex lives and diet, that we might as well explore their drinking habits, too. The place to start is with their favorite, the Madeira wines.



In the fiery year of 1419, the brilliant Prince Henry the Navigator surrounded himself in the Portuguese coastal town of Sagres with carefully-picked mathematicians, cartographers and astronomers. He planned an exploration of the western coast of Africa, and conceived the idea of an expedition to confirm the century-old rumors of the existence of an island in the Atlantic due west of the Straits of Gibraltar. A daring voyage, led by one of his most trusted captains, Joao Goncalves Zarco, discovered the island. Its thick forests suggested a name for it – Madeira, from the Portuguese word for “timber.” Zarco and his men promptly set the densely overgrown forests on fire.



It took seven years for the fire to burn itself out, changing the climate and the destiny of the island forever. The ashes fortified the existing volcanic deposits and made the soil unbelievably fertile. The island prospered and grew in importance as the refueling station for explorers and navigators on their way to the unknown and uncharted. Prince Henry’s own captains, Vasco da Gama on his way to the East Indies, Sir Francis Drake, and innumerable other seagoing visitors anchored there and loaded provisions, fresh water, and fresh fruits and vegetables so essential to combat scurvy. And of course they loaded up with barrels of the island’s young wine, which, alas, deteriorated very quickly.



In the late 17th century a new technique of fortifying wines with brandy was started tentatively; it proved to be a boon on long voyages. The brandied wine not only didn’t spoil, but actually improved with time and travel. Ships under all flags began loading barrels of Madeira as cargo and ballast for long voyages. Their cargo not only sustained the crew but became valuable in trade, for the longer the voyage, the more the wine improved in taste and value.

The love affair between the American colonists and the wines of Madeira was begun by Charles II, who in 1663 made Madeira an exception to the rule that no goods could be exported from Europe to the British possessions except in British ships from British ports. Wealthy shipowners and their friends in the colonies owned barrels and demijohns of the finest Madeira wines, each named after the ship from which it landed.



Madeira wine-tasting parties were the rage. Merits of different barrels were heatedly discussed. And what effect imbibing Madeira had on Jefferson and his cronies meeting in Williamsburg’s Raleigh Tavern to discuss the Townshend Act, we can only surmise. Certainly not a calming influence, to judge from the results of the meeting.



A gentleman in Savannah gained a degree of fame by storing his barrels on the roof, exposed to the elements, and then refining it through his secret process. The resulting pale and light Madeira he called “Rainwater” – certainly a low point in dreaming up trade names.



The Madeira craze reached a peak in the 1850’s during the California gold rush, when swift Yankee clippers took barrels of Madeira around Cape Horn and back again to New York and Boston, increasing the value of the wine ten-fold.

Then, from the peak to a deep, catastrophic decline in a few short years!

During the same decade, the vineyards received a blow from a devastating fungus, and just when the blight was being controlled by sulphur dusting, the dreaded phylloxera insect struck, obliterating most of the vineyards. Not until after first World War did the Madeira trade recover.

The wines of Madeira can attain an incredible longevity. Indeed, some authorities claim that there is really no limit to their life-span. The few rare bottles from the early 1800’s I have tasted were in magnificent condition, with not a trace of deterioration.

Everything is unique about these wines: the taste is smooth but with an underlying sharpness; the color ranges from pale, jewel-like amber to a rich dark brown. The smell is something else! The foremost wine author, Hugh Johnson, described it best: “The first scent of Madeira: a scent as fat and smooth as butter, followed by the tang of smoke.”

The four basic types of Madeira are named after the variety of grape which produces it.

Malmsey: Very sweet, luscious, generous wine which will warm the cockles of your heart apres ski.

Boal: Sweet and full dessert wine.

Verdelho: Excellent afternoon sip-ping-wine with only a touch of sugar.

Sercial: The driest and palest, it makes an ideal aperitif and is served with rich soups.

Madeiras are at their best slightlychilled in summer and room temperature in cold weather. They deserveyour finest crystal glasses, opulent inappearance and ample in size.

Tasting Notes:chivas vs. cutty 12



The entrance of Cutty 12 into the Chivas-dominated arena of premium blended Scotches gave me an excuse recently to stage an informal Scotch tasting. Actually, the tasting went well beyond the Chivas-Cutty 12 question, and attempted to document preferences for blended, blended malt or single malt Scotch among a cross section of casual social drinkers.

With the kind of help of Sigel’s, which fortunately had bottles of all of the Scotches we wished to taste on hand, and Andy Clendenen of Chelsea Corner, who graciously provided his facilities and staff, six Scotch drinkers, ranging in age, gender, and alcoholic taste, joined me to blind-taste five different types of Scotches. The results, including the panel’s decision on Cutty 12 vs. Chivas, are fascinating.

Bach panelist tasted each Scotch twice, once straight up, and once mixed one to one with bottled water. Tasters were asked to describe each Scotch’s color, aroma and general taste. After all the Scotches had been tasted, I asked the members of the group to rank the Scotches they had tasted in order of their personal preferences, and, to attempt to identify each Scotch by brand name.

First, to the Cutty 12-Chivas question. Chivas was generally preferred by most of the tasters, though neither Scotch was tabbed first in preference by any taster. Employing a point system awarding one point for a first ranking, two for a second, three for a third, four for a fourth and five for a last place show, Chivas outpolled the new Cutty brand 22 points to 31. Most panelists seemed to prefer Chivas’ sweetness and smoothness to Cutty 12’s slightly smokier and more harsh taste. Most tasters, however, generally described both blended premium Scotches as medium in color, light or delicate in aroma and less than mouth-filling in taste.

The three other Scotches tasted included J&B, a light, popular blend; Glendronach, a heavy single-malted Scotch; and Keith, a smoky and complex blend of malts. Though half the panel professed rarely, if ever, to have tasted single malt or blended malt Scotches, Glendronach and Keith far and away were the tasters’ choice. On the aforementioned point scale, Glen-’ dronach was the clear favorite of the panel with 9 points to Keith’s 17, Chi-vas’ 22, J&B’s 25 and Cutty 12’s 31. Six of seven tasters gave Glendronach their first preference; while no panelist awarded Keith first, five gave it second. J&B, the only real mass product in the group, predictably received the widest variety of preference rankings, including one first, one second, one third, two fourths and two lasts.

From the comments of the tasters, it was clear the malted Scotches were preferred for their lustiness, age and lack of acidity. The blended Scotches – Chivas, Cutty 12 and J&B – generally were criticized for lightness, sweetness or foul aftertastes. Said one panelist: “After tasting the malted Scotch, J&B tasted like vodka.”

All of which I find highly interesting, because it has been my observation that most social drinkers, when asked what kind of Scotch they prefer, will say, “light, smooth, not bitter.” But such drinkers, when confronted with the smoky, mature, pungent aroma and mouth-filling taste of Glendronach or Keith, proved to be closet malt-Scotch lovers.

One final note: I was amazed at the panel’s general ability to identify the Scotches they were tasting by brand designation. Tasters correctly identified the Scotches twice as often as they incorrectly called them.