The Tullamore D.E.W. Trilogy, like a good magician aims at ninja misdirection. “Trilogy?” you say to yourself, “Is this volume one, two, or three?” After erupting in self-congratulatory chortles at your bon mot, you find young wood, like kudzu being massacred by a four-machete-wielding expert vibraphonist who’s mastered the Stevens Technique. Warm cereal with malt syrup and minced herbs. Clean socks used to wipe up the S’mores that accidentally drip-melted onto the balsa wood model of the Spruce Goose. After all these evocations of youth, Stephen tells you that 15 years of aging are hidden in the whiskey! Well played, Tullamore D.E.W., well played.
The elegant mouth has hints of sherry, and seemingly afraid of giving offense, vanishes quickly. Before the finish, though, it coyly peeks its head out and shyly proffers a eucalyptus caramel to a koala cub. The caramel is low-cal, made with oleo margarine, and as such, lacks nutrient density. (Poor koala cub.) It’s as inoffensive and pleasant as a nun bedaubed with Tiger Balm praying for Marvin Gaye’s immortal soul.
Finishing rich, like a beggar who wins the Powerball lottery—and dies of a heart attack upon learning the good news. Soft and spicy gardenias, cotton candy clouds made from molasses, and the chagrin at realizing the phrase “ironic twist” is almost redundant. A shower of grains gleaned by Imhotep’s slave falls like heavy mist on the desiccated field of your tongue.
On the scale of things in which I’d like to snuggle up on a cold—but not freezing—night–
The Tullamore D.E.W. Trilogy is an Alpaca Wool Shawl woven in Peru by the descendants of Incans–Wrap up, feet up, fire lit, glass full…yup, I think that just about covers it.
–Our thanks to Tullamore D.E.W. for the sample!