This might sound rather sentimental, but…
I hear that sentence surprisingly often. It’s often at the start of an email or said by someone sitting across the tasting table from me before they explain why they’re looking for a particular bottle. They almost always apologize first, as though admitting there’s a story behind the search somehow makes it less serious. I’ve never quite understood why. In my experience, those stories are what make whisky so enjoyable.
As a private client manager, people assume I spend my days talking about Scotch whisky. They’re only half right. We certainly discuss distillery stories, vintages and casks, but those chats have a habit of wandering elsewhere. Before long we find ourselves talking about families, friendships, retirements, business milestones, proposals, and the occasional golf trip to Islay. The whisky tends to disappear into the background.
Over the years I’ve developed a bit of a habit. Whenever someone asks me about a specific bottle, I ask a question in return.
“Why this one?”
Strictly speaking, I don’t need the answer, but quite often there’s a brief pause. Occasionally I suspect they’re wondering whether this is a test. It isn’t. I’m just curious. It doesn’t necessarily change whether that bottle is accessible or not; what it does tell me is something much more interesting. It tells me what they’re really looking for.
The replies are wonderfully varied. A now longstanding client once asked for a bottle of Cragganmore. As it turned out, her father had been site manager there back in the 1970s. I managed to source a 1971 from the very last cask made at the distillery on coal-fired stills, before the switch to oil-fired steam, a momentous change which her father would have been heavily involved in.
Occasionally someone stops for a while before answering, only to realize they’ve never quite put their own reason into words. The more I’ve had these conversations, the more I find myself repeating the same observation during tastings: Nobody buys Scotch whisky for no reason.
I don’t mean every bottle marks a life-changing event. Sometimes curiosity is reason enough. Sometimes it’s admiration for a distillery, a landmark release, or just the pleasure of exploring a style you’ve never tasted before. Even then, there is intention. Nobody builds a collection by accident, and the whisky isn’t the only interesting part of the conversation.
“We often describe collections in terms of what they contain. I suspect a better question is what they resemble.”
Ethan Youel
I’ve helped people search for a particular vintage because it marked a notable year (or even day). I’ve spent weeks trying to track down whiskies that, on paper, seemed novel choices until the story emerged: a retirement, an anniversary, a thank you that couldn’t be expressed with anything else.
I’m guilty of the same thing. My favorite bottle is a single cask Mortlach, filled the day I was born. I’m fortunate to have access to a vast array of whisky, so it takes something incredibly special for me to buy for my own collection. This one felt meaningful: one of my favorite distilleries, and the most meaningful date for anyone.
Without the story, those requests can seem wonderfully peculiar. With it, they become part of the narrative. Taken out of context, I do wonder what someone listening in would make of my job.
Those conversations have changed the way I think about collecting. We often describe collections in terms of what they contain. I suspect a better question is what they resemble.
A cabinet filled with exceptional spirits is rarely just a cabinet filled with exceptional spirits. Look closely enough, and it becomes a family album. Every bottle marks a person, a place or a moment that somebody wants to remember.
That’s one of the unexpected privileges of being in my position. People arrive planning on talking about whisky but leave talking about their lives. It’s not something they teach you when you start working in whisky. Curiously, that’s usually the moment I know we’ve found the right bottle.
It’s tempting to think my job is simply to source exceptional spirits. I think it’s something rather different.
It’s to listen carefully enough to understand the story someone hopes that bottle will tell long after it’s been opened and enjoyed, because I’ve become convinced that the most valuable thing in any collection isn’t the whisky. It’s the reason it found its way there in the first place.
Ethan Youel is a private client manager for Justerini & Brooks and founder of The Collectors’ Brief.
