The Girvan Grain Patent Still No. 4 Apps

Tasting notes:
The Girvan Grain Patent Still No. 4 Apps from William Grant & Sons opens with an inviting, if somewhat misdirective, spread of pepper-encrusted capicola coyly lying on olive oil drenched Filone di Renella. (I thought this was a grain alcohol, not a lightly-toasted sprouted-grain scone?) Bleach wipes and rubber sandals used in wading pools are in the next room—you know they’re there, but they’re not there there, if you know what I mean. Pickled daikon radish that wandered in from a Zen fusion restaurant down the way is there, too, along with microplane-grated cardamom and finely ground white pepper. Unnamed impostors *cough, cough: Stephen and John* variously got also boiled and rendered alpaca fat and tube meat, the latter of which was hastily disambiguated from tubesteak.

The mouth froths with salty caramels used as a gripping agent by an oarsman on his wooden paddles. There’s also a beeswax candle as seen in an outtake from The Wolf of Wall Street involving a cameo from Gwyneth Paltrow consciously uncoupled from the theatrical release. We kept waiting for the fruit or earth to show up, but instead got long tannic safaris on llamas through veldts, savannas, and llanos.

[John: Don’t those words all mean the same thing?]

The finish evokes Irish whiskey both in flavor, a kinda wispy gin + cleft chin + devilish charm, and in form, as it’s really an elongation, an extension of the mouth. [Ctrl-T] Uh, John? Your macro failed to produce the phrase, “That’s what she said.” It hangs on the tongue and back palate like the memory of black truffles, the kind that launch gourmands into poetic orbit and pigs into porcine frenzies.

Rating: