Our understanding of the Lagganvoulin heating system was limited from the start, so unsurprisingly we all woke up sweating our first morning at the cottage. We were also pretty exhausted from the previous night’s travels so it was with a late start that we rolled into the sleepy town of Tomintoul. Dining options are limited in the village, especially in the morning, so the process of elimination took us to the only game in town, the Old Firestation Tea House.
A solid stone building with firefighting regalia all over the walls, the Firestation was the perfect place to grab a quick breakfast and soon became a staple of our stay in town. Most of us opted for the bacon egg and cheese roll as our introduction to the establishment, and with the salty, tangy cheddar and rich bacon (which in this country is more like a thin ham than a crispy strip), it was a filling start to the day. We also partook of “filter fresh” coffee of a brand called Rombout’s, which included a little disposable plastic drip filter. Far more rich and satisfying than the Nescafe that greeted us in nearly every café or hotel room.
Though we’d eaten into some of the day with a slow start, Erik and I were keen to visit some distilleries, especially since this was Erik’s last proper day in Scotland and the other major tourist stop (castles) would be plentiful for him in Cambridge. So off we went, and The Glenlivet (one of my favorites) was our logical first stop, being that we were actually staying on the Glenlivet Estate. We made our way to the tasting room and gift shop, where Dad, Erik and I sampled a 12 year, 18 year and Nadurra (16 year cask strength, aged strictly in bourbon barrels). For me the Nadurra was absolutely superior, especially with a little water, which opened the aromas and made it a more luxurious flavor. The 12 year was a little thin and immature with a very alcoholic bite, and the 18 year was best without water but still lacking the complexity of the Nadurra.
Next we drove to the world-famous Glenfiddich distillery, practically a stone’s throw away, and after marveling at the nose-laden front lake (see above), we moved on to the visitor’s center and signed up for their next tour and tasting. Tasha and Dad sat the tour out and enjoyed the café while Erik and I learned all the wonders of Glenfiddich production from grist to pour. We watched an incredibly produced introductory film (which looked like something you’d see by the hand of David Fincher or Bryan Singer) then moved on to the mash tuns, washbacks, pot stills, spirit safes and aging casks that comprise the Glenfiddich production process. Needless to say, I was captivated and loved every second, and our tour guide Gareth hopefully appreciate Erik’s and my enthusiasm as we asked questions pretty much every step of the way.
The tour is a MUST for anyone traveling in the area, and the best part was a tasting of Glenfiddich malts at the end. Erik and I chose years 15 and 18 to share and compare, and I tasted spicy, oaky notes in the 15 while finding velvety smooth caramels and chocolates in the 18 (a winner for both Erik and myself). We regrouped with Tasha and Dad, then stopped in the gift shop where Erik picked up a small bottle of the 18 year for us to share before we left to get dinner.
Gareth had asked on the tour where we were from, etc. and when we mentioned our open plans for the evening he told us to make sure we stopped at the Highlander Inn to sample one of their 200 whiskies and enjoy a fine dinner, and to make sure the host Tatsu knew Gareth had sent us. So being the dutiful tourists we are, we stopped over in Craigallachie and found the Highlander Inn, and I’m endlessly glad we did; not only was the staff cordial and the food, beer and whisky outstanding, but this happened to also be a favorite spot of the late whisky connoisseur Michael Jackson (not THAT, the other one) that was featured in an issue of Whisky Magazine I happened to have in my carry on for the journey. We took a table placed right beneath a legendary collection of rare whisky and shared a sampler of six including Cragganmore, Glenkinchie, Laggavoulin and Talisker. I also had a local ale called Witches’ Brew to go with my full plate of haggis, neeps & tatties (Dad and Tasha both had haddock & chips, which met with rave reviews). All in all, an incredible dinner found almost by happenstance, and another must-do for anyone visiting Scotland.
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