The last fortnight has been quite a heady one, even by my standards. While the average week drones on with a wine here and a sip there, this time around, it was constructive time being spent with not one, but two whisky ambassadors, even if both were called Ian and live a stone?s throw away from each other.

A stone?s throw away, but no stone-throwing ever ensues, for both Ian Millar of Glenfiddich and Ian Logan of The Glenlivet are friends since long, bonded by the pact of single malt, where the only rule is to enjoy a dram for all it is, and to never drink bad single malt. To a Scotsman, I doubt if that exists.

Glenfiddich is one of the most popular brands in the world and although they only launched their first single malt bottle in 1963, they have risen to fame quickly. The Glenlivet fought off many odds, including a particular period of name theft when everybody started making Glenlivets (circa late 19th century) and they had to appeal to have a decree passed to stop it. They were additionally given the right to prefix ?The? to their brand name Glenlivet, which means ?smooth flowing one?.

Glenfiddich, which means ?an area with a lot of stags? (not to be mistaken with a bar full of men), says it was they who made the first single malt back in 1963, but The Glenlivet claims written records of single malts being registered for shipping to Calcutta as early as the 1880s. The truth might lie blurred in historical interpretations and recordings, but both brands are every bit as famous as ever and make some super single malts.

But why single malts in the first place? Aren?t they to the dark spirits what wine is to beverages in general: a stuck-up snooty tool to further reinstate one?s social privilege standpoint? The answer is yes and no. While it is true that single malts do suffer from a certain ennui brought on by the attitude that its drinkers adopt, single malt itself doesn?t wish to be a highbrow beverage. We did a lovely pairing exercise with Ian of Glenfiddich, who chose dum-cooked food to partner his elegant drams. From 12-18 years old and even beyond, up to 30 years old, we were given quite a treat and it wasn?t age, eventually, that impressed me most. I was, in fact, most taken in by the fullness and charm of the 15-year-old Solera Reserve, which I found to be one of the most complete and wholesome whisky experiences ever to be enjoyed out of a bottle.

The Glenlivet, too, had an interesting exercise planned. Ian (Logan) had brought in three yet-to-be-launched variants and gave consumers and media a taste, as also collected our opinions, which would then be used to decide which of their three presented styles eventually gets launched as a new reserve limited-edition release.

All in all, an agreeable two weeks so far. What I still fail to ascertain is how do Scotsmen suggest what they do on how to enjoy a whisky. While one gentleman insisted that nothing should be added to a glass of single malt except more single malt, the other maintained that to taste, one needs to add a few drops of water, whereas to drink and enjoy, anything goes, as long as the imbiber prefers it so. Too rather contrasting stands. I have found that I am happy to add some water if it is a young malt, but with older malts, I would keep things neat. Sure, it would pack a punch, but then it would also deliver the smooth nuanced lasting finish. Temperature is important as warmth releases aromas, so caressing a glass in the palm helps, whereas adding too much ice may not be entirely conducive to tasting. But?livet or fiddich?no point drowning either of the Glens in a glassful of water or soda or, worse still, cola!

Both the ambassadors agreed that you should not wait too long to try a single malt that has been served to you (something to do with Scots and patience) and never ever leave your glass on the table or take your hands off it, unless it’s for a refill.

The writer is a sommelier