Do you like whisky?

Do you like whisky? Whisky and quaichs are inseparable partners, woven together in the fabric of Scotland.
Long before I became aware of the existence of the quaich, whisky played a significant role in my family. My grandfather and my uncle, on my mother’s side, were both coopers to trade, and worked in Usher’s brewery in Edinburgh’s South Side, a few yards from their respective abodes in Parkside Street and Henry Street.
After my grandfather passed away, my uncle Alex continued to work in the brewery, and my first taste of beer as a very young lad came when he organised one of his cloth capped workmates to bring a foaming glass out to the side door in Henry Place, where I was encouraged to haltingly quaff this strange and bitter brew!
Alex must have stood out in his workplace, because he was head hunted (though I doubt that term was used in those days of the early 1960s!) to become the manager of the Auchentoshan distillery in Dalmuir, near Clydebank – many miles away in the West of Scotland. I still vividly recall many visits to the distillery, normally during school holidays, including staying up to watch the first Apollo moon landing on his black and white television, in 1969, and my first shot at driving a car, in the distillery grounds.
The distillery seemed to me to be a vast and mysterious place, full of unfamiliar smells and sounds, with fields stretching away from the back of the Big House, the manager’s residence. He once insisted on taking a petrified 10 year old me on a search of the distillery grounds at dead of night, as there had been a report of an escaped prisoner in the area, and Alex wanted to show me the search techniques he had been taught as a soldier in WW2. Thankfully, no escapee was flushed out of the undergrowth.
I have a strong memory of being allowed to sit in the background, in the manager’s office, as the early morning sun slanted through the windows onto his heavy mahogany desk, when the Factory Inspector paid a call. Alex and the Inspector had an initial meeting, before the inspection tour, which included both men imbibing 100%+ proof single malt whiskies to accompany their discussion. The inspection went swimmingly after that, I recall.
At Christmas and New Year, my grandmother’s house was always awash with bottles of award winning single malt – Auchentoshan only, naturally – though I only remember the good crystal glasses, and not quaichs, being employed as drinking vessels!
Slàinte mhath!!