Thomson's labels are well worth serious attention, says Don Kavanagh.
Once upon a time, and it wasn't that long ago, this country was a dry house for whisky drinkers. Sure, there was plenty of Scotch and Irish to be had, but locally produced whisky was not something you'd drink willingly. Not twice, anyway.
Wilson's was the big name, a blend of such monumental anonymity that the first time I tried it, I had to tie a knot around my finger to remind me I was actually drinking whisky. It wasn't all that bad, it just wasn't all that good, a pale shadow of a whisky, more ghost than spirit.
Then there was 45 South, a hideous beast that was, I think, an evil plot fomented by the prohibition lobby to frighten drinkers into sobriety. It certainly frightened the life out of me the first time I tried it.
Oddly enough, the Willowbank Distillery in Dunedin that made these whiskies was also responsible for Lammerlaw, a single malt of considerable charm. Not only was it a nicely delicate, floral, aperitif malt but it was good enough to sell reasonably well in Scotland, which is no mean feat.