Curious about how the type of barley, the terroir, and farming practices could influence a malt, Alison and Dan established connections with the James Hutton Institute, which was working with heritage grains.
“For us, it was never just driven by the provenance, because that could just be a fad,” explains Alison. “It was also about the quality and flavour differentiation...a big part of that is varietal choice.”
Barley farmers today are given a recommended list agreed upon by a panel made up of industry representatives from distilling, agronomy, and farming to advise them on which variety of barley to grow. Just as most produce today is grown with an eye towards longevity and its ability to stand up to long shipping distances, the main criteria for the barley on the recommended list are agronomic traits (e.g., drought and disease resistance, ease of harvest, etc.) and yield – both a higher grain yield and a higher spirit yield from that grain. Flavour, sadly, has nothing to do with the selection.
“There were a lot of people in the whisky industry at that point that were saying ‘it doesn't make any difference. The barley isn’t going to impact the flavour – it’s the cask,’” Alison tells me.
Since Dan and Alison were the growers and the maltsters, their view was that as long as they had a buyer, they could experiment with different varieties. Working with the James Hutton Institute, they began trialling heritage barley – including two Scottish landraces (indigenous varieties) that are no longer grown and two types of Bere barley – one still grown on the Western Isles and one grown in Orkney.
These indigenous varieties are incredibly resilient, having had hundreds of years to adapt to the poor growing conditions of the Highlands and Islands, but those same traits also bring challenges. The first that the Milnes faced was that their soil was, in fact, too good, for the Bere barley – a variety that’s adapted to mineral-deficient soils. The other was the structure itself. These types of barley grow significantly taller than modern varieties, and easily fall over in wet and windy weather. The long awns (bristle-like appendages at the tips of the stalk) tend to bind together and clog up the combine. This and the harder husks make the malting process another game entirely. Emptying the drum, for example, takes seven hours with a heritage grain, rather than one hour with a modern grain.
“You have to change your whole mentality when you’re working with it,” says Alison. “Now everything is so simplified, but the heritage stuff is like ‘Nah. You work with me or not at all.’ You wait and just be a bit more patient. It definitely needs a whole different way of thinking, malting, farming.”