Skailg: A wee livener with...Tom Morton

Every time I come to the mainland of Scotland from my home in Shetland, I end up gazing over the sea to Arran from Troon, where I was brought up, and Ayr, where my father still lives. I leave one island behind only to stare longingly at another.

Arran has always been a magical place for me. In the 1960s and early 1970s it was, for mainland west of Scotland folk, an accessible (an hour by ferry from Ardrossan) but wonderfully separate hotbed of music, bohemian larks and artistic endeavours. It still, for many Glasgow folk, represents a place of escape, and its casual description as ‘the Highlands in miniature’ is appropriate. It has a proper mountain, Goat Fell, a Munro (over 3000 feet), lush, fertile coastal areas and beaches, forests full of mystery, deer and more. The Highland Boundary Fault runs right through it, separating it officially into Highland Lowland areas, and it is both visually and geologically spectacular.

Tourism on Arran has, of course been decimated by Covid-19. I haven’t visited for a long time and am unlikely to do so this year. However I have, even in my Shetland outpost, been able to enjoy some of the glories of an island which produces some wonderful food and drink. Beer, cheese and of course, whisky.

The basic Arran cheddar cheese, available online from the Arran Cheese Shop, is one of the tastiest you can buy if you like your everyday corpse of milk a little on the tangy side. However, there is a variety of flavoured cheeses available from the island and for once, these - or at least, most of them - are both subtle and convincing. None of your lumps of carelessly squidged-in fruit here. I especially recommend the smokey garlic and Arran Mustard cheeses, which come, like all the cheeses, in wax-covered roundels. I bought a couple of the gift packs which arrived promptly in Shetland, were a bargain and came with local biscuits and chutneys.

There is a whisky flavoured Arran cheese, but that is not something I’m prepared to sink my teeth into. Because one of the great and underrated pleasures of life is to combine simple, unflavoured cheese with a glass of whisky, and it’s even better if you can ensure that both products come from the same terroir. Port and Stilton? Try a dram instead. Whisky IN a cheese is someone else’s idea of flavouring, and you miss out on the alcoholic content, as well as the sheer pleasure of combining liquid and solid on your own terms and in the quantities you choose.

So bringing together the creamy, full-flavoured mature Arran Cheddar with two of the Lochranza Distillery’s single malts is what I’ve done this month.

Arran has two distilleries, these days - the one at Lochranza is 25 years old this summer Lochranza; From there you can hop on the half-hour ferry to Kintyre, and thence to Campbeltown, once Scotland’s whisky capital. Back on Arran there is now Lagg, which only opened to the public last year. Both are owned by Isle of Arran Distillers, and the aim with Lagg is to produce a much peatier spirit than the more mellow Lochranza distillate. Its product will not be available to the public for some time yet, but one advantage of getting old for me is that I can remember visiting the Lochranza site just after it opened, and indeed tasting some of the young products of that distillery when, frankly, they were just that: young and not particularly convincing.

Time works wonders though, and there is a core range of whiskies available under the Arran label which go right back to those first distillates, now comfortably aged up to 25 years. I like the 18 year old but the basic 10-year old is absolutely fine. Especially with cheese.

Arran 10 year old single malt; 46% alcohol by volume. Around £34 a bottle.

Colour: attractively amber. Looks like liquid pouring honey, which is appropriate.

Nose: Very assured, sweet and malty, with the coastal edge you might expect and the ashy, dank aroma of good barrels in a decent warehouse.

Mouth: Sweet and then dry. Controlled and non-aggressive, apples and a wee bit of bitterness. Malt extract and honey but with a touch of grit and salted caramel. Doesn’t need water.

Finish: Friendly and unabrasive, a hot day on Brodick beach after a drive over the hill to tour the distillery. Cheerful.

Notes: With cheese (plain Arran cheddar) served on Wooleys of Arran Original oatcakes it provides an excellent combination, adding a real complexity to the textures of creamy cheese and crunchy oatcake.

Arran 18-year old single malt; 46% alcohol by volume. Around £80 a bottle.

Colour: Dark. Classic, tobacco-juice shade of a well-aged whisky

Nose: The 10 year old all grown up and full of beeswaxed leather and oak, as befitting its maturity and, well, price.

Mouth: Enough sherry and wood to impress, but the core sweetness and maltiness is still very evident. Rounded, fragrant and long lasting depth of flavour.Lots of dark chocolate and wedding cake.

Finish: Rumbles away into the distance like the last wave of the day, with thunder approaching over Goat Fell. But...is it worth paying double the price of the 10-year old?

Notes: With cheese - for some reason, it gives a much more mouth-filling effect than the 10-year old. Tangier and somehow less enjoyable. The psychology of price awareness? Cheapskate syndrome?

Overall: That 10-year-old is more adaptable than its elder sibling when it comes to dairy products, though the 18 year old comes with gravitas and a kind of treacley hauteur. I’d go for the younger dram, though, and not just because I’m a skinflint. It’s a beautiful summary of the island, illustrates the distillate more than the effect of ageing, and at that price, it’s bargain. Say cheese!