This is the way I wish the whisky industry were going: heretofore unreleased single malts from distilleries that it’s fun to have Scottish women teach you how to say. And non-chill filtered to boot. Alas, it’s not the current trend. But hats off to Dewar’s, et al. for swimming upstream–and doing a damn fine job of it. Just look at the packaging! The label would have been a hipster’s dream if they’d used Wisdom Script or Futura Bold and the word “Authentic” in there somewhere.
Nosing it, we weren’t sure whether we were getting the outgassing of the soles from a pair of Chuck Taylor Specials or a cinnamon and tarragon Béarnaise sauce dreideled over latkes. Whichever it is, it’s the new hero in Game of Spices.
There’s a soft smoke on the mouth, like from firing a .22 rifle at clay white doves in an ironic statement about the prospects for peace in our time. This is just on the right side of syrup infused with oranges, only creamier. And sassier. There is much of a muchness here. It is much dram.
The finish is a cashmere muffler for your esophagus even though it’s ideally suited to be drunk on a late spring evening. Imagine sitting outside on a legless stool at twilight. Now imagine a sweet bottle that could’ve come straight from the saddlebag of an 1850’s San Francisco sophisticate. Now imagine it’s reasonably priced, and you have the picture.
–Our thanks to Louis Lugo and Bacardi for the sample!