Imagining opening an edible bouquet sent by St. Peter himself. Which is to say that there is no honey dew in it. No terrestrial honey dew, that is. Such is the extravagance of the nose on this dram. We settle in to a make a full study of it. There’s baby bok choy soaked in Himbeergeist and broiled over the flames of good intentions. Then there are fruits covered in flowers, and tiny flowers with tinier fruits inside of them. Then pixie stick-flavored gunpowder. In time it opens up like a genie who picks the lock on the lamp and furloughs himself. We can totally see why, at its founding, it was called “the great distillery of Inchgower.” [Bill: “But Centimetergower held more of the global market, amirite?”]
Ooh, wow, the mouth is incredible. Sweet and grainy; it’s the final slurp from the bowl after the cereal has turned into a heavenly sludge—the kind of sludge used for an amazing treat at Milk Bar. My gustatory apparatus can only process tactile responses. Honey drenched Pop Rocks and sky blue cotton candy with crunchy crystals crackling as I chew it. In time the riot of flavors and sensations settle out, we move from surfeit to paucity. We think there’s peppermint, but without the “mint” or the “er.” That’s right, it’s all pep. Until a skeptical worry takes hold. If I didn’t know this was whisky, would I think it was whisky? If you told me it was eau de jicama, could I deny it?
My doubts are quieted on the finish. It’s like the part of “Bridge Over Troubled Water” when, out of the chime-like calm, comes the bass guitar, then orchestral strings, and ever-more-fervent cries of amity. It is here that I realize something. This is the perfect dram to drink before a meeting. You’d smell like a whole fruity package of Life Savers®. No one would suspect that on the inside, you’d feel like Billy Zane with a signal flare in the face toppling off into the South Sea. That’s right, it’s strong and beautiful. There’s a big 360-degree spice spiral that starts at molasses and then smokes its wheels all over the mint family: spearmint, peppermint, parliament. [Stephen, with a Memphis twang: “I reckon it’s the three branches of guvmint right there!”]
On the scale of facts about the final scene of the movie Dead Calm—
The Inchgower 27 Year Old 2018 Special Release is the fact that it provided a definitive resolution of Billy Zane’s fate–Studio execs didn’t think that having him knocked unconscious into the water was a proper ending.
SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT!
They thought he needed to eat a flare. The Inchgower 27 will similarly erase all doubts and fill your face with a truly memorable experience.
–Our thanks to Diageo for the sample!