Jacqui Deevoy retraces family roots, and bottles more than just whiskey

Last year in sparkling Florence in Italy, I bottled my own perfume, capturing scents that reminded me of sun-warmed lemon trees and distant memories. But now, here I am in the very heart of Ireland, bottling something entirely different: my own whiskey.

On the banks of the rushing River Brosna, in County Westmeath, I discover the Kilbeggan distillery. Whiskey-lovers the world over have visited this stunning part of the country; if they haven’t, they should. Because this place is a whiskey fan’s dream!

My parents, both Irish (Dad from County Laois, Mum from Waterford), are gone now. But every summer of my childhood was spent happy in the embrace of this emerald island.

We – Mum, Dad, my brother and I – would pile onto a train in Basingstoke, travel to Reading, catch another train to Fishguard and get the ferry across the Irish Sea to Rosslare, where we’d take the final train head west to Waterford and to Nanny Murphy’s house in Ferrybank. Uncle Jim would meet us at the station and help Dad with the suitcases. No car and too many of us for a taxi, we’d stagger up the hill, past the Oldum flour mill (where Jim worked by day), the sun already set. When we reached the grotto, we knew there was only one short steep hill to go before we got to Nanny’s house.

The house had a distinctive smell – boiled spuds and bacon mixed with freshly-mopped lino – and Nanny would always be in the narrow kitchen, grey hair newly curled, best blouse on. She’d smile out at us through the steam. Then she’d frown, tell me I was too thin and ask me why my parents weren’t feeding me. She’d comment on how much my brother had grown and tut and/or roll her eyes at whatever my mum was wearing (“couldn’t you have got that shirt in the right size? It’s straining on you!”).

Jim would always offer my dad a “drop of whiskey” after dinner – “just a small one, for the road ahead,” he’d say with a wink, though the ‘road’ was only the stairway to bed.

I have a vague memory of my first taste of whiskey

I was around four years old and sat on the lap of an elderly male relative. (I thought it may have been my grandad who died suddenly in 1967, but I’ve since discovered he’d stopped drinking after a bicycle accident).

I was fascinated by the golden liquid in the glass on the small table next him. When he wasn’t looking, I took a quick sip of his drink and a puff of his pipe which he’d left resting on the edge of an ashtray. Of course I did. That’s the kind of child I was! I regretted it immediately as both the tobacco and the whiskey tasted foul.

I’d watch with fascination as the men would imbibe. The women didn’t join in – none of them. My mum, her three sisters and Nanny didn’t touch alcohol, having taken The Pledge as teenagers.

The way my dad and my uncle took in the whiskey wasn’t the same way as they might have knocked it back in the pub though. This quiet ‘at home’ tipple was more of a ritual, a quiet toast to the annual summer holiday, to the family and to what lay ahead – lots of trips to the golf club for my dad and my uncle, and days out to the beach at Tramore or plaiting the barley in the field near the house for me, my mum, and brother.

My trip back in time

We were nowhere near Kilbeggan back then, which is about 90 minutes west of Dublin. But the streets were similar and the distant green fields were the same. Kilbeggan holds the title of Ireland’s oldest licensed whiskey distillery, founded in 1757 by Matthew MacManus. The power of water from the adjacent river and barley made it ideal.

The distillery passed through many hands, but it was the Locke family from 1843 who truly made it legendary. John Locke breathed new life into it and, after his death in 1868, his wife Mary Anne took up the reins, running the place with fierce determination, adding a retail spirit store and even supporting the local Sisters of Mercy convent with profits. Her watchful gaze still lingers in those black-and-white photographs on the walls – a woman ahead of her time, overseeing a world of men and mash tuns.

The distillery thrived, then faltered. Prohibition in America hit hard, excise taxes rose and, by 1957, the machines fell silent. The buildings stood empty, but the people of Kilbeggan never let the spirit die. They preserved it as a museum until, in 2007, on its 250th anniversary, it roared back into life. Today, under Suntory Global Spirits, it’s a living monument to resilience and perseverance.

I was invited on their most popular tour. It began with lunch in the distillery’s cosy bar/café: where I ate a vibrant pink beetroot wrap overflowing with coronation chicken – fresh, flavourful, a perfect prelude.

Then on to the tour

Pasqual, the tour master, with 17 years under his belt, led us through the sprawling stone-floored rooms. Cool air carried the scent of aged oak and malted barley. Rusty iron machines, enormous wooden vats and towering barrels whispered of centuries past. Black-and-white photos brought it alive: hollow-eyed men in flat caps, Mary Anne Locke’s steady gaze… And of course there’s whiskey too.

Inside, there’s even a rare early-20th-century car – a gleaming black centrepiece, over 100 years old yet pristine.

Then the magic. Tracey, another expert guide, showed us how to bottle the precious 11-year-old vintage whiskey – the most expensive at €150 per bottle, tasting of fire and barley, warm spice and sweet grain dancing on the tongue. On her suggestion, we put a few drops on our hands and rubbed them together to get the full aroma of this decade-old spirit. Palms cupped to our faces, the aroma was overpowering but softened within seconds. Within minutes, the scent had completely evaporated.

When it came to extracting the whiskey from the barrel, a ‘valiche’ – a stainless steel tube about a metre long – was necessary. I plunged it into the opening in the Iid of the barrel, covered the small hole at the top of the tube with my forefinger, waiting ten seconds, as the golden liquid was drawn. Lifting the tube out of the barrel and positioning the open end of the tube above a glass jug, I lifted my finger and the whiskey was released.

My hands trembled slightly – not from nerves, but from the weight of it all. This was Ireland in my grasp: the barley fields of my childhood summers, my father and uncle’s quiet toasts, my grandmother’s smile. A couple more draws, then through a sieved funnel into the bottle. I wrote the date, batch number and my name on the label by hand and carefully smoothed it onto the bottle. And there it was – my personalised bottle of whiskey – a piece of Ireland to take away.

The tour continued with a masterclass in Irish coffee

I’ve drunk them before (once too quickly, nearly fainting from the caffeine and whiskey kick – a story best left untold!), but making one myself felt like honouring the ritual anew. I tentatively tasted it, but thought better of drinking the whole glass. I think when I make one at home, I’ll make it in a smaller receptacle!

After the fabulous tour, I stayed at the luxurious Glasson Lakehouse (formerly Lakeside), a serene haven overlooking the shimmering waters of Lough Ree. The food was delicious – with a refreshingly innovative menu – the outdoor heated pool a delight even on cooler days and the spa treatments pure bliss. A pre-dinner dip in one of the hot tubs on the terrace, steam rising against a backdrop of tranquil lake views, soothed the body and the soul.

Although I’d never visited Kilbeggan before, being there felt like a homecoming. Even the smell of the whiskey brought back memories – of love, laughter and loss – and reminded me of the unbreakable thread connecting me to my Irish roots. My dad would have raised a glass to that. And now I will too – with them in spirit. Sláinte.

In memory of Nanny and Grandad Murphy, Uncle Jim, my dad, and my mum. Ní bheidh a leithéad arís.

DETAILS

Kilbeggan Distillery
Standard Full Guided Tour – €12.50
Irish Coffee Masterclass – €30
Distillery Cask Experience (bottle your own that we did) – €170

Stays at Glasson Lakehouse – rooms start at €250 B&B

New airport rules allow up to four litres of alcohol per person in hand luggage from Ireland without declaration.