Kilmalid, Chivas Brothers’ major bottling facility in Dumbarton, Scotland, is not one of the prettiest places to visit in the scotch whisky industry. Figuratively speaking, it’s a million miles away from picturesque Strathisla distillery in Keith or the magnificent Glenlivet facility in Speyside. Just outside Glasgow, it plays a major part in the bottling and distribution of Chivas Regal, Ballantine’s whisky, Beefeater gin and Malibu, producing something in the region of 20 million cases a year.

It is at Kilmalid that Chivas Brothers master blender Sandy Hyslop is based. Hyslop reckons to nose about 250 samples a day and actually tastes about five a week. “The nose is so much more sensitive than the palate,” he says. Probably best known as Ballantine’s fifth master blender ever, he is actually more important than that. Hyslop plots the course of Pernod Ricard’s scotch whisky operation.

He likes to get in early: “Seven-thirty, I like to know what is going on and make sure everything is all right.” And so he should.  With the global thirst for scotch whisky, many master blenders and distillers are obliged to hit the road to explain what they are doing and why. Not the 49-year-old Hyslop, who has been involved with making scotch whisky for 31 years.

How much does he travel?  “One week a year,” replies Hyslop emphatically. There’s a pause then: “They can have me for one week a year.”

The ebullient Scotsman then goes on to qualify that statement by saying that he goes to Speyside every week and if there is an event or a tasting, he is happy to join in. “I like to interact,” he says. But it is plain from his first answer that Hyslop has no taste for airports, international hotels and basically being away from what he knows and does best.

When asked where he does like going, his reply is immediate: “ I like Japan the best. They are so organised when we are doing tastings. They are very courteous and so enthusiastic about Ballantine’s.”

So how did it all start? Hyslop aspired to study chemistry after leaving school but his father had other ideas.

“My father steered me to a lab assistant job at Stewarts Cream of Barley which was owned by what was then Allied-Lyons. My father got the best of both worlds – I was earning, bringing some money in and a day a week I was training,” he says.

Stewarts was Allied-Lyons’ first whisky. Then it bought Teacher’s, Ballantine when it bought Hiram Walker and finally Long John via the acquisition of James Burroughs, best known for Beefeater gin.

“I started working in the laboratory, then working with the blenders. We were a really small group so I got thrown into all sorts of jobs. I was in the inventory department, then bottling, QC (quality control), filling casks,” says Hyslop.

“Ian Jardine was Stewarts Cream of Barley master blender. There was a lot of setting up and he let me try them (samples).” Jardine used to test Hyslop and lay traps. “I used to get it every time,” he
 says confidently.

“Ian Jardine was very innovative and you needed to think on your feet. We were managing mature fillings but also lots of supermarket blends – gin and rum as well. But Stewarts Cream of Barley paid the mortgage,” says Hyslop.

So what does it take to make a master blender? Is it all about
the palate? “It is different for different people. When I say ‘apple’ I’m thinking of a red apple, whereas you might be thinking of Golden Delicious or a green apple. It is all about people’s perceptions. I can taste, using my words but you have to find your own. When I hear that I know you are getting it. But you cannot force words upon people,” he says.

On the art of blending: “It is about 75% ability and 25% passion and dedication – I’m not just saying that. You have to focus on getting it right. A lot of people have a great sense of smell but the name of the game is being able to describe it. You have to practise doing it all the time,” says Hyslop.

“We have to assess people as part of ISO 9001 and the pass rate is 90%. Different generations have different descriptions. I will say ‘stewed apples’ because when I was a kid that is what my mum made. If I say ‘coal gas’, younger people around me say: ‘What is that?’”

Hyslop is in full swing now: “It’s about attention to detail. If I got less than 10 on a scale of 1-to-10, I would be very, very surprised.” One of Hyslop’s lab colleagues was asked and he immediately replied: “Eleven.” Hyslop is cock-a-hoop. 

He oversees a department of 24. Four are working with him in the sampling room on the organoleptics; there is a team planning to ensure whiskies are in the right place; another overseeing vatting. So for example, Ballantine’s Finest. Hyslop and his team require working with 800 barrels of malt. Another team looks after casks, including the ones coming from the US. They have to empty, oversee cleaning and grade them. “We are filling 80,000 casks a month,” says Hyslop. Finally there is the technical department overseeing things such as quality control.

So how does Sandy Hyslop relax? “I love going to antique fairs and car boot sales. I collect automobile memorabilia – MG cars – Scottish glass, Ysart (glassware made by a Spanish family in Perth, Scotland, in the 1920s), watches, even Dinky toys.” He has a room at home devoted to displaying his various collections.

He likes to rebuild cars, so why MGs? “I’d love to have a Jensen Interceptor or a Bugatti but I can’t afford it,” Hyslop laughs. He has also dabbled with motorbikes.

For most uninitiated in watch collecting, the first question is: “Do you have a Rolex?” Hyslop’s instant replay is: “Yes, I have a Rolex Milgauss”. 

This is a special Rolex, developed so scientists could keep track of time in electromagnetic environments, by repelling the effects of magnetism. Why ‘Milgauss’? It is named after Johann Carl Friedrich Gauss, who was a German mathematician in the 18th-19th centuries. He is ranked as one of history’s most influential mathematicians, contributing to many fields, including number theory, algebra, statistics, differential geometry, geophysics, electrostatics, astronomy  and optics.

Hyslop attributes his passion for collecting to his father, who ran an antiques shop. He used to help out and developed a keen sense of something’s worth and being able to seek out and identify quality.

What about his son, five-year-old Stephen? “He likes coming in with me of a Sunday morning. He has a really keen sense of smell. I cannot have a sneaky mint. He will ask: ‘Have you been having mints?’”

So, could Stephen Hyslop be Ballantine’s sixth or seventh master blender? 

A brief nosing of the Ballantine’s portfolio gives a snapshot of the scale of Hyslop’s task just in maintaining the Ballantine’s style.  From Finest through the 12-year-old, 17-year-old, 21-year-old up to the daunting 30-year-old, the house style shines through the ever-deepening liquids. Soft, sweet, smooth and delicate with no hint of smokey peat, whereas Chivas is all about Speyside fruity notes.

Hyslop also worked with both Jack Goudy and Robert Hicks, which sounds akin to being stuck between a rock and a hard surface or between Morecambe & Wise. He describes Goudy as “passionate but could be gruff” whereas Hicks was “flamboyant”. 

He points out the level of commitment and the weight of responsibility of his job. The current Ballantine’s 30-year-old is essentially a blend of whiskies that Goudy laid down. Hyslop may never get to try the 30-year-old made from whiskies he has overseen being made and laid down.

He goes on to explain that if there’s a need to affect a change in a blend possibly due to expiring stocks, he will start to make that change over a period that could be three years. “We have to smooth out the recipe so the blend never falls off a cliff edge.”

There was a demand for a 15-year-old Ballantine’s.  “I was never going to change the 12-year-old so we arranged a special production for China. Jack Goudy told me: “It can take 30 years to build a brand but one bad batch can ruin that.”

So, to be in the scotch whisky business you have to be in it for the long haul. Hyslop is still a long way off retirement but does the have a successor lined up? “There are two of them”, he says, gesturing towards the sample room. They might well be keeping the seat warm for son Stephen.