Fire and Smoke: Sichuan heat meets Islay peat at Mala Dragon
In a quiet Bedford backstreet, a Sichuan wine bar is pairing fiery small plates with fine whiskies. Tom Pattinson drops in for dinner and stays for a tasting of Bruichladdich’s bold new Octomore 16 series
It’s a rare treat to find an authentic Sichuan restaurant outside of certain corners of London, New York – or, of course, Chengdu itself. So discovering one in Bedford, a modest market town 50 miles north of London, feels like uncovering a secret worth whispering about.
Mala Dragon isn’t, strictly speaking, a restaurant. It’s a wine bar that serves Sichuan tapas – an idea that sounds improbable until you try it. Hidden down a quiet residential street, the bar has just eight tables and an upstairs private dining room and, after only a month of opening, is already booked out weeks in advance.
Inside, it’s all calm elegance: light wooden floors, a green-tiled bar and low, golden lighting that flatters both diners and glassware. There are subtle nods to China – contemporary oil paintings, a carved window frame brought back from Beijing – but no clichés, no red lanterns.
The hosts are Layla Wang and her husband, Joe Pattinson (yes, relation). Layla hails from Sichuan, the western Chinese province known for its peppercorn-laced cuisine and fearless spice. A trained sommelier, she worked across Swire House hotels in Chengdu and Beijing before opening Trio, a fine wine bar in the Chinese capital. When the couple moved to the UK, Layla wanted to transplant that same concept: serious wine, sociable food, a sense of occasion.
The wine list is as considered as you’d expect. Bottles are displayed in a glass-fronted cellar that wouldn’t look out of place in Mayfair, and the range runs from accessible to aspirational. Chinese wines are finding fans here too – proof that Layla’s homeland has more to offer than just heat.
The food, designed for sharing, is closer to small-plate artistry than takeaway comfort. Kung Pao chicken skewers arrive glistening, garnished with cashews and house pickles; they’re sweet, sour and just spicy enough to make the wine sing. Roujiamo – a Chinese street-style burger stuffed with slow-braised pork, coriander and pepper – is a revelation: soft, rich and ideal for soaking up the next glass.
For whisky lovers, Mala Dragon is a happy surprise. Nc’nean Organic is the house pour; Caol Ila 12 and Lagavulin 16 offer Islay smoke for those who crave it; and Never Say Die satisfies bourbon fans looking for something transatlantic.
Upstairs, a private dining room doubles as an art gallery, where a long wooden table recently hosted Barley’s own whisky tasting – a lively evening of spirits, spice and conversation, all lubricated by Layla’s Sichuan snacks: cold smoked sausage, steamed dumplings and crisp wontons that danced with chilli oil.
The whisky tasting
We began with Nc’nean Huntress (£90), a warming Highland whisky with the easy sweetness of cherry Bakewell, apricot marmalade and vanilla custard, chased by a gentle wisp of peppermint tea. It’s a homely dram – bright, modern and confident – the kind of pour that eases a crowd into the night.
The Glencadam 15-year-old (£70), followed, setting a smooth benchmark. Light and creamy with sugared almond and panna cotta notes, it opens up with dried apple, nutmeg and a touch of cocoa. A Highland whisky that doesn’t shout but lingers politely on the palate and the touch of spice elevates a level on from the Huntress.
Next came a festival gem, the Caol Ila 12 Year Old Feis Ìle 2021 (£155). Matured in a mix of refill American and European oak before finishing in Moscatel wine casks, it’s cask strength at 57%. Rich smoke and honey glide alongside raisins, liquorice and a briny tang – classic Islay with an elegant twist of sweetness from the Moscatel. Even those who traditionally thought they were not peaty lovers couldn’t help but get stuck into this one and very little was left in the bottle by the end of the night.
Some of the Mala Dragon’s whisky selection
Then came the evening’s headline act: the Octomore Series 16 – the latest release from Bruichladdich Distillery, home to the world’s most heavily peated single malts. Octomore began as a dare – a retort by legendary distiller Jim McEwan to critics who dismissed Bruichladdich’s unpeated style. What started as an experiment has become an icon of modern whisky-making.
“Octomore exists to provoke and challenge,” says master blender Adam Hannett. “On paper it shouldn’t work – it’s too young, too strong, too peaty. Yet somehow it does.”
There are four whiskies in the new series, each matured for five years and made entirely on Islay, un-chill filtered, with no added colour. For the tasting, we explored the first three.
Octomore 16.1 (£140) sets the tone. Malted to 101.4 PPM – that’s phenol parts per million, the measure of peat smoke – it’s made from Scottish mainland Concerto barley and aged in first-fill bourbon casks. It greets you with salted caramel, melon and apricot, followed by chocolate, coconut and a whisper of campfire smoke. For something so powerful (59.3% ABV), it feels unexpectedly elegant, like smoke curling from an expensive cigar.
Octomore 16.2 (£155) takes the same distillate and spins it through a complex cask journey: Oloroso, Bordeaux, Madeira and Portuguese Moscatel. The result is richer, darker and more decadent – caramelised sugar, roasted nuts and dried fruit overlaid with sweet smoke and cracked black pepper. It’s a lesson in how wood can transform a spirit without drowning its soul.
Finally, Octomore 16.3 (£195) – the purist’s choice. Made entirely from barley grown on Octomore Farm itself, peated to a fierce 189.5 PPM and aged in Bourbon, Sauternes and Pedro Ximénez casks, it’s both a terroir statement and a sensory rollercoaster. Expect honeyed malt, toasted grain, raisin and praline wrapped in a thick, earthy smoke. At 61.6%, it’s not for the faint-hearted, but the reward is immense: a whisky that speaks of Islay’s soil, wind and sea.
Adam Hannett, master distiller at Bruichladdich Distillery, the home of Octomore, shot by Matt Sills for Barley Magazine
The Octomore range might sound like a pyromaniac’s dream, but it’s more than smoke for smoke’s sake. Beneath the fire, there’s nuance and finesse. Add a drop of water and the spirit blooms: sweetness rising, spice softening, the smoke settling into something more like incense than ash.
By the end of the tasting, even the less peat-inclined among us were converts – well, at least respectful observers. Octomore remains a whisky that divides opinion, but that’s precisely the point. It shows what can be done when a distillery refuses to play safe.
As Hannett puts it, “Whisky should evoke a sense of place.” And nowhere does that better than Islay – that windswept island where sea spray meets smoke, and where each new Octomore seems to push both boundaries and palates just a little further.
Octomore 16.1 is available from £140
