Bamboo sugarcane hybrid. Shoots up into your sinus at six inches an hour. Hot and waxy. Perhaps even cardboardy. But this is the back of Perry Mason’s legal pad kept in a desk drawer on the sound stage during a writer’s strike. Apricot fruit leather used when folding dried pineapple burritos at a birthday party for dwarf hamsters.
Wow, this really coats the tongue. I am falling in love with the mouth. An angry papaya declares war against a cadre of mellow mangos. It is a massacre, just like what you’d expect if three Vitamixes were ordered to destroy a bucket of margarine left on the pavement. I’m getting almost synesthetic reactions now: glinty titanium ball bearings roll on a silver platter, the low rumblings of the balls stimulates a high, clear, bell-like ringing of the platter. You should see the audio waves that the sound engineer has captured.
The finish is no less wonderful. Coriander on the mouth. Acorn soufflé. Corn pudding. Lava lamp reimagined—with real lava pouring from a genie’s lamp. I have fallen through a trap door into the Land of Yum. Quickly I take the battery out of my phone. I do not wish to be rescued.
The Clynelish 14 is Friedrich Wilhelm Ludwig Leichhardt–The famed Prussian naturalist disappeared in the Austrialian outback more than 160 years ago never to be found again. There were signs that he lived for a while after his disappearance—a brass nameplate from the butt of his rifle, aboriginal cave art depicting a white man herding animals—but I prefer to think that he fell into the Land of Yum and raided its liquor cabinet of all the Clynelish he could drink.