Michael Jackson's Complete Guide to Single Malt Scotch: A Connoisseur's Guide to the Single Malt Whiskies of Scotland Book

I first spotted this book next to a small but excellent collection of scotches at the residence of a prodigious homebrewer and made note of it. A couple of years later, my brother gave me a copy for Christmas.

Also known for his beer journalism, the late and great Michael Jackson deserves no small amount of credit for the renaissance of the craft malt marketplace, be it brewed or distilled; in this book, in its third and final edition, Jackson champions the importance of terroir to single-malt scotch, passionately arguing that microclimate has just as much impact on a Speyside as it does on a Bordeaux.

Jackson persuades in two fashions, firstly in the several chapters introducing the reader to the production and industry of scotch, especially the grain, the still, and the wood; and secondly through his hundreds of meticulous and diverse tastings, complete with a Robert Parker-inspired 100-point rating.

I'm not sure the aim of differentiating the individual terroirs isn't at odds with the one-scale ratings. But while they often seem unjustified by the descriptions preceding them, they do at least provide hints as to which scotches taste rather less distinctive than the others. Above 80 points, though, Jackson's personal preferences dominate, and they lean toward the spicy--Talisker's briny bomb earns a 90, the highest he gives any actively produced scotch of that maturity, while some superbly balanced malts like Oban weigh in at least ten points lower.

Jackson's scotch book is not great because of its little numerals--it's great because of its lore. Whether or not anyone can prove that the brook which passes through the heather field contributes to a hint of honey to the mash, or whether the salt of a certain bay breeze informs that sherry oak aging ever so subtly, Jackson's detailed vignettes on each distiller's people, history, plant, and landscape invite a wee dram of poetry into the act of sipping. And if you're already lending fifty bucks (or more) to the label, you might as well lend credence to the spirit, too.