G’day guys. Mitch here with another Irish import. And it’s another addition from their welcomed dabbling in the Caskmates range. A range, previously a standalone bottle, now a two-pronged attack. With their Stout Edition, and now – the I.P.A. Edition.
You know those vague but ominous posts vloggers on YouTubers do? You know the ones, the ones that are titled something like “I have a confession” or “I have news”. Those ones that grab your attention by giving you some anxiety you’ll lose respect for somebody? Like you’re worried they’ve become a satan worshippers or anything to that effect (I use the phrase satan worshippers here as a general term to avoid interaction with the human migraines that inhabit the internet ranting and spewing rubbish at me about how they’ve somehow done no wrong without them knowing I’m talking about them. A lot of things fall under that heading. You can’t tell some people anything. You can’t drill commonsense into people, but its fun to try). And then you just find out they’re using all of this build-up in suspense to upload funny videos of themselves dancing or they’ve tried teeth whitening or some other random thing like that. So you’re just relieved. And a little annoyed after they worried you. Well, I’m not luring you in with any clickbait like that. Mine falls somehow between satanism and using some new brand eyebrow comb or whatever beauty products other bloggers are plugging nowadays. The difference here is I know full well you probably won’t care at all. But nonetheless, here’s something weird about me you’d probably never may have guessed.
…I have only now started drinking beer.
I don’t honestly know why I didn’t start earlier. I mean sure, I didn’t like it the first time I had it. But I was eighteen, of course I didn’t, I didn’t like whiskey either then. I just never tried bothered to try again until now. I was so obsessed with whiskey, I just never bothered. Looking back now, it feels so dumb. To think about what I had been missing out on all that time. But what started this is at least two people now in my personal life have been asking me when I’ll be featuring beers on my blog. Oh, and I was told one beer is like a whole pork chop, and I’ll try anything to help me put some meat on these bones. And before you ask, yes, this does mean eventually there will be craft beer reviews on this site. Once I have some decent frame of reference, since right now the only thing I definitely know about beers is that that zero calorie crap sucks. And so far beer seems to have roughly the same principle as chocolate – The darker it is, the quicker it disappears. Makes me wish in my first Jameson Caskmates review I had said more about stout, I’ll have to try that again some time. But in the case of this bottle, there’s another Irish beer at play. Irish Pale Ale (And yes, I thought they meant Indian Pale Ale too. I had to go back and check). So I did some digging round online to find the label of beer that the barrels had been bought back from so I would get the most useful insight. Eventually I found that Franciscan Wall Brewery, had originally taken delivery of the bequeathed Jameson barrels, a small pub in the famous Irish port of Cork. The same that the Irish Rover sailed out from on the forth of July eighteen-hundred-and-six, with a cargo of bricks for the Grand City Hall in New York. I thought that folk song was based on a real story, but the lyrics go onto to say “We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags, we had two million barrels of stone, we had three million sides of old blind horses hides, we had four million barrels of bones, we had five million hogs and six million dogs, seven million barrels of porter, we had eight million bails of old nanny goats’ tails, in the hold of the Irish Rover”. So maybe not, or this ship was the size of a small country. Cork, however is unquestionably real and has, as the song was probably inspired by, played host to a large amount of Ireland’s international shipping trade. Including but not limited to exports and migration to the New World. Unfortunately however, the Franciscan Wall Brewer is only a pub. A pub that brews their own beer, admirable, but it means they don’t export their products. So there goes that idea.
The bottle itself is exactly the same as the Stout edition Caskmates bottle, and almost every other bottle in their range. The standard green Jameson bottle and branding, only differed by the Caskmates labelling. The I.P.A. edition in this case is green, as opposed to the Stout edition is the same dark brown as the ale. The cap of the bottle, the wrapper around the neck, text over different colors are all the one dark Irish green color. Upon the breaking of the seal, I inhale in expectation of some sort of marriage of ale and whiskey. The nose in actuality is disappointingly subtle inside the bottle. In a Glencairns glass too. The nose, though now actually detectable. Exhibits no nose of any contribution of ale. The taste, light in body and mellow in character. Full of fluidity, soft and organic, and heat on exit. Tones of vanilla, but no real inherited tastes afforded by it’s aging treatment with it’s Irish pale ale barrels. Though, this being said, the Caskmates I.P.A. edition is noticably smoother and more mellow than the standard Jameson, and that wasn’t a harsh or rough liquor to begin with
To summarize: I’m somewhat disappointed in this bottle. While it is advertised to be barrelled in Irish pale ale casks, you would expect this would attribute it with more tastes reminiscent of ale. But although it fails in this, it has created a very smooth whiskey. An even easier neat-sipping Irish whiskey on a cold night. Here in Queensland, we’ve been blessed with the advent of an actual appearance of the season of winter. With temperatures plummeting to chilled temperatures of one degrees Celsius at nights, this whiskey makes for a perfect leisurely neat whiskey. And saying that, I’m off to do that right now. Bundle up people, we don’t get weather as good as this often. Cheers