I Don't Care To Have Suntory Time Again, But I Get It.

Of course I had to read Aaron Gilbreath's 23-minute 5939 words article published on Longreads for October 2019, 'Can We Ever Make It Suntory Time Again?' He laments about how much he loves Japanese whisky, and how he regrets not stocking up on those bottles that are now out of production and never to be seen again.

While I enjoy reading about Japanese whisky, and living through the boom times when the popularity of Japanese whisky exploded, I'm not a fan of Japanese whisky. Even the most peated ones are a little too sweet for me. Many Japanese companies own Scotland's whisky distilleries now. I'm just glad that they haven't interfered too much with the distinctive tastes produced by the different Scotch distilleries. Oddly, I still have few of those now-considered-rare bottles of Yamazaki and Nikka sitting on my shelves, remnants from long-ago gifts and purchases from some rather crazy nights drinking in Tokyo.

The limited availability of certain whiskies adds another layer of scarcity value; when distilleries close, their whisky becomes irreplaceable. No more of those Hanyus or Karuizawas will ever get made. No more versions of the early 1990s Hibiki, since Suntory changed the formula. For distilleries that still operate, their whisky is irreplaceable, too. The exact combination of wood, temperature, and age will never produce the same flavor twice. Even when made according to a formula, whisky is a distinct expression of time and place. The weather, the blender, the barley, the proximity to the sea, and of course, the barrels — sherry, port, or bourbon? — all impart a particular flavor along with the way blenders mix them.

I belong to the lucky generation — I had the chance to taste the good Scotch and Japanese whisky from the father's liquor cabinet, honing my tastebuds for my own tasting for a good decade before the whisky stocks run low and my desire for imbibition of fermented grain mash diminished. Those were very good years for whisky. I'm glad that in the process of discovering whisky and honing my palate for it, the liver and kidneys didn't suffer, and there aren't any lingering consequences.

Did I mention that the man and I acquired the Bowmore 1964 Trilogy (Black, White and Gold) a decade ago, and recently let it go slightly below market price? We've tasted a few bottles from the Trilogy. It didn't matter to us anymore whether we own it or if we'd taste them again. We were more insistent that the bottles went to a connoisseur who would appreciate it, and he mustn't be an asshole. Thankfully it's sold to someone who came across as one who is without much airs, efficient and prompt in our communications with him. In addition to having less inclination for whisky, I've also called time on my relationship with Bowmore because I realized that they'd hard-pressed to produce the expressions that I love. The distillery would need two or three more decades to even get those flavors again.

And maybe we should think less about what we missed and more about what is yet to come. In 2013 and 2014, Suntory expanded its distilling operations to increase production. It, Nikka, Kirin, and many smaller companies have laid down a lot of whisky, and when all that whisky has sufficiently aged there will be a lot of 10-to-15-year-old whiskies on the market — maybe as early as 2020 or 2021. “I always tell people not to worry about not being able to drink certain older whiskies that are no longer available,” Osaka bar owner Teruhiko Yamamoto told writer Brian Ashcraft. “Scotch whisky has a long tradition, but right now it feels like Japanese whisky is entering a brand new chapter. We’re seeing whisky history right before our eyes.”