A knock at the door. What’s this? A Glencairn glass is standing in the center of my welcome mat. And no one in sight! AnCnoc 16 in the glass. I hold it up to the porch light. It is lighter and clearer than an angel’s tear. Pomegranate and wedding cake on the nose, but I’m not going to wait around to see what else is there. I move inside and turn down the lights. More than any tastes I’m struck by the weight in the mouth. The unbearable lightness of AnCnoc, coupled with an almost Glenmo-like smoothness. Sixteen years in a cask and it comes out this heavenly? What, are there 500-thread count sheets and down pillows in there? Or is it really just like Marisa Tomei, who gets more and more spectacular with every passing year? (Note to Marisa’s agent: she can reach us at firstname.lastname@example.org.) Viscous on the mouth, too—if you can be both light and viscous. I’m in Paula Deen’s kitchen basting a turkey with synthetic motor oil (10w30) and conventional motor oil (5w30) in equal measure. The finish races to the spaces under the tongue where a team of AnCnoc commandos detonate an anise flashbomb. They run in to grab me and pull me from dreams of 500-thread count sheets and Marisa Tomei, and I see that the wedding cake is half eaten by a clown with smeared makeup. He’s got a contented grin underneath that makeup. I can see it clearly now as he leans in on the high stool in the corner of the room. He’s holding a video camera and an empty Glencairn glass in his hands. It doesn’t take me long to see that he also has my fate in his hands as well. Can he be reasoned with? What leverage can you apply to a man dressed as a clown?
The anCnoc 16 year old is Red Skelton‘s Freddie the Freeloader–Warm and welcoming while hiding a wonderful edge, Freddie also never hesitated to make someone sharing the stage with him bust out laughing–on live TV.
–Our thanks to Brian Johnson and InterBev Group for the sample!