On the nose, this Port Charlotte really sings. In fact, it’s an 11 year-old Port Charlotte Church on the Big, Big Talent Show, only aroma-wise, it’s more like the prehistoric version of that show, in front of the cave wall paintings in spearmint paste depicting Homo erectus fending off a bear by throwing pinecones at it. “Oh my goodness, she has the voice of an angel,” Groo says. “What’s an angel?” Grak replies. “Ug,” adds Ug.
The mouth is basically Port Charlotte concentrate. You know, like when your family budget was too tight to afford fresh Port Charlotte, so they always had the PC from concentrate from the freezer. The smoke is like the blowing out of candles that renders the room completely dark–and the possibilities endless. It’s green, but not green like young, but green like you can taste the vegetation that comprises the peat. But it’s a green so dark, it’s like it’s brown. I imagine this is what the Swamp Thing’s mudroom looks like, if looks were tastes.
The finish is perfection that evades human description, but not, thankfully, human experience (especially ours). The finish coats and cleans my molars. It is the epistemological oxpecker to the yawning hippopotamus that is my mind. The parasites and detritus disappear, and clarity and alacrity take their place. The overall effect is nearly transcendent.
–On the scale of crazy facts about hippos–
The Classic Cask Port Charlotte 11 Year 2001 46% is they’ve been known to chase speedboats–This gives a whole new meaning to Hungry Hungry Hippos. Wow. Just…wow.
–Our thanks to Lauren Shayne Mayer and Spirit Imports for the sample!