12
year old Single Malt Scotch Whiskey
By
George Brozowski
For
me sipping Scotch is like slipping into a time machine, setting
the controls back to the 30's and reliving the golden age
of art deco and Bogie and Bacall or more accurately, Bogie
and Bergman in Casablanca. Scotch transports me back to what
I imagine was a more laid back time, a more elegant time,
a time of tagging along with Indiana Jones, a time when every
man was a seedy detective and every woman was a slinky dame
and everyone smoked unfiltered Lucky Strikes all the time.
Back then all of life's
scenes were played out in smoke filled joints just around
the corner from the Empire State Building or not far from
the jewel like glass crowns and glass wrapped corners of the
Chrysler Building. Men always wore suits and ties outside
while inside they donned smoking jackets and if you were lucky
enough to be Hugh Hefner you wore lounging pajamas. Women
wore long flowing dresses and the highest of high heels accented
by black stockings with those sexy seams running up the back.
They slipped on hats that covered part of their faces obscuring
at least one eye and creating an air of intrigue that was
accented by netting that made them seem that much more mysterious
and inaccessible. Everyone spoke unhurriedly while spilling
double entendres and leaving every sentence open to numerous
interpretations as they languorously sipped their Scotches
and sexily blew smoke in each other's faces.
Even
Fay Wray at the peak of her panic, in King Kong's gargantuan
gorilla grip atop the Empire State Building, torpidly stretched
out her lithe limbs and allowed her flowing pink nightgown
to slide sexily around her body while she kicked her high
heeled feet. And who can ever forget Ingrid Bergman imploring
Sam to "play it again" in Rick's joint in Casablanca
or Bogie's final line in that movie when he said, "Louis,
I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship".
That's
where good Scotch takes me, to a mythical and magical time
that may have never existed but certainly should have. With
every smoky sip I seem to fly back to that time and end up
staring into Lauren Bacall's or Ingrid Bergman's eyes while
my hand rests languidly upon her thigh. If your Scotch doesn't
have the same effect on you I recommend you switch to this
Scotch.
In
1886 William Grant took a break from getting his wife pregnant
and with his seven sons and two daughters built their distillery
by hand and called it Glenfiddich, meaning
Valley of the Deer in Gaelic. In December of 1887 they produced
their first dram of Scotch Whiskey and since then the family
has been producing some pretty decent Scotch. This 12 year
old Single Malt Scotch Whiskey is aged in Oloroso Sherry and
Bourbon casks.
The Nose is certainly
smoky and begins my journey back in time with its hints of
light citrus and pear and notes of oak and vanilla. It's just
the way I prefer my dames to smell when they walk by me as
I lean against the bar and eye them.
As it passes my lips it
is unmistakably smooth scotch with a smoky mouth and hints
of innocent vanilla not unlike a deep kiss from a beautiful
3rd cousin.
The finish is smooth and
saucy warming my throat all the way down to my stomach. For
the price this is very, very nice and now hovers around $25.00-30.00/750ml
bottle. Amazingly enough her 15 year old sister is available
these days for just a few dollars more and is well worth looking
into. I'll look forward to meeting you at Rick's Place this
weekend for some Scotch.
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