[This vatted malt is a blend of whiskies from younger Chichibu casks and older Hanyu casks finished in Mizunara oak casks.]
Notes from my dream journal:
In this dream I’m walking through a sound stage made to look like Martha Stewart’s house. The wall paint and rugs match perfectly; the furniture is tasteful, restrained, and elegant; and even the bric-a-brac has a studied nonchalance that just says “it’s a good thing.” But what I remember most are the smells. First, there’s linen cleanliness and coconut coolness. No doubt these are from the organic cleaning salves and towels I see on the table. I turn next to see a small grill pan softening some cherry tomatoes until they shine, swell, and then wilt. The next thing I know I’m smelling the bare arm of a farm chair into which I’ve collapsed, wondering just what kind of wood is this?
Like other dreams, my awareness shifts to an entirely different set of circumstances with no rhyme or reason. In my mouth there is purest nectar of angelic apricots, foamed raspberries, and creamed grapefruit—a veritable dessert mousse. Gentle spice fires for a long time into the finish. I’m now holding a large pipe and a tiny anise chimney sweep juggling oranges smiles leaps out from the bowl to smile at me. Chestnuts, actual and philosophical, round out the experience.
My dream is finishing soon; threads of conscious awareness creep in like the rays of an early spring sunrise. But not before I find myself piloting a Zamboni as it travels down my own esophagus. (How is that possible, I ask, and then I really know that slumbers are ending soon.) What comes upon me now are waves of tidal motion, or is it just ribbons of imaginary medical tape? As I return later to the nose, I see that it has developed a patina. And the whole whisky falls together like a great procedural murder mystery told over the course of decades with a single, controlling director on 70mm film.
On the scale of remarkable movies shot on 70 mm negative stock–
The Ichiro’s Malt Mizunara Wood is Scent of Mystery (1960)—This is also the only film that used Smell-o-Vision, a technique that released scents into the theatre to advance or illuminate the plot. Theatre-goers complained that fellow audience members would sniff audibly when the scents arrived. We sniffed audibly as well. In grief. When we finished the bottle.