The Peat Moss Experiment

As an aspiring scotch connoisseur, I am always looking for ways to acquaint myself with the world of scotch tasting and production. I believe that the bridge to this magical kingdom is paved with peat moss, fuel of the production process for centuries and the backbone of any self-respecting whiskey. A few months back, I read the transcript of a Slate online whiskey tasting in which one of the tasters lit some peat moss "to create ambiance for tasters." After reading this, I knew it was only a matter of time until I experienced this for myself. So when I passed the outdoor gardening section of Stew Leonard's, our local mega-grocer, and saw a giant stack of compressed peat moss packages (as seen above), all the pieces fell into place.

The choice of whiskey for this peat-infused tasting was an easy one--Laphroaig 10-year, one of the peatiest and a bold young whiskey. To give you an idea of the essence of Laphroaig, on my first taste I described the experience as thus: "I am drowning in a peat bog that is ablaze." The Slate tasters had the following to say:

DE: Now we're moving onto our final whisky: Laphraig, 10 yr...Laphraig, we're just getting into a different arena now. When you really heavily peat a whisky, you get this medicinal quality ... hospital bandages, what else?

MD: I get old ship ropes. Salty ship ropes.

DE: Old tar.

CL: Rusty.

MD: Seaweed, low-tide. Iodine.

(Brook sniffs the whisky and makes a face.)

DE: It's beautiful. I respect this a lot now, coming off all of these other whiskies. I have so much more respect for Laphraig. Some on the Fray say we should have also included the Laphraig 15.

DE: Laphraig's ad slogan is, I think, "Love it, or hate it." So they understand that people are ...

MD: I think it's delicious. It's a beautiful integration of all the seaside characteristics: the peat, the salt air, the iodine, that salt tang.

The first problem I encountered in my tasting experiment was that this compressed peat moss, most commonly used for gardening, etc., is not in a form that is conducive to burning. It's like trying to burn a pile of sand. After feeling foolish for a bit, I came up with an idea to redeem myself. With Dinka's reluctant approval, I took our colander outside and began to "strain" the peat moss, leaving only the largest pieces, but even these refused to be burned. As a last resort, I sprinkled a handful of the peat over some dwindling coals and finally got the peaty smoke I was looking for (no one should be surprised that this experiment coincided with some grilling).

Producing the smoke was hardly the end of the battle. Next up was the task of wafting the smoke gently towards me while tasting the whiskey, which was made difficult by being outside in a light breeze. I mostly failed at this, so I ended up sticking my head directly over the coals to make sure that I got a little smoke and instead got a whole lungful, the strength of which pretty much overwhelmed all other tastes and left my nose burning. To top it all off, the smoke mostly just smells generically earthy. While it does bring out a certain quality in the whisky, it is not an enhancement worth this kind of effort.

My advice to anyone thinking of burning a little peat to class up their next evening of scotch would be to leave it to the experts. In my case this means waiting to smell the glorious smoke billowing from the distilleries by the Islay seaside on my upcoming (next ten years?) trip to Scotland. In the meantime, does anyone know what to do with 3.8 cubic feet of compressed peat moss?