The Whiskey Reviewer A World of Whiskey, Poured Every Weekday
By Richard Thomas
Rating: B
Alfred Giraud Harmonie Triple Malt
(Credit: Alfred Giraud)
If one reads these pages about world whiskey or the business of whiskey at all, then the fact that France is the world’s second largest market for our thematic drink should be well-driven into your noggin by now. Because French whisky consumption is the highest in the world, at over 2 liters per capita annually, they are also the second most lucrative market. Knowing those facts, the question becomes not why is France producing whisky, but why isn’t French whisky better known?
To that, I will add a minor bit of trivia: many experts believe the idea of aging American whiskey in new oak barrels was borrowed from the French. At the time Americans were inventing bourbon and rye–the late 18th and early 19th Centuries–the French were not making whisky, but they were making cognac. And what is cognac, but grape brandy aged in new French oak? I bring that up not only to underscore that old school Franco-American connection, but also because the Giraud family are distinguished cognac-makers.
That brings me around to this particular French whisky, Alfred Giraud Harmonie Malt. First, note the absence of the designation “single malt.” This is a vatted triple malt (for another example of a triple malt, see Monkey Shoulder), made with whiskies from three French distilleries. That whisky was aged in new French oak and new American oak casks, but it is not known if that trio of cask types correspond to the trio of French distilleries, or represent a more complicated mix (i.e. distillery #1 provided whisky in new French and American oak, etc.). One whisky source is lightly peated, and the other two unpeated. The whisky is finished in ex-cognac casks after marriage, and bottled at 46.1% ABV. A mere seven casks-worth are released annually, but keep in mind a cognac cask is 400 liters, or almost double the size of a bourbon barrel.
The Whisky
The nose here builds on a sweet platform of malty honey with a touch of the kind of saline, cut and dried grass smell one gets from work going on at the edge of sea marshes. This note is so light as to not even merit being called a dusting of salt, because the vegetal and saline aspects combined are a mere touch. The flavor follows very much in suit behind this line, with a sprinkle of cinnamon added for good measure. The finish winds down grassy and a little spicy.
For a whisky that builds its identity around having some peated whisky in the mix, I found it quite un-smoky. Still, that one whisky was supposed to be lightly peated, and then blended with more unpeated stuff, so this isn’t all that surprising. Instead, the peat played up the vegetal side of things, and brought the tiniest bit of salt into the profile as well. Overall, I would say Harmonie is an enjoyable, but unremarkable malt, except for that understated peat influence that comes out in a way that most would no expect, and that gives the whisky its distinctive character.
The Price
This French malt comes in at $190 per bottle.
