When I stepped into the whiskey bar, a row of men were seated at the counter. An hour later, they were replaced by a row of women. I liked the change. They also brought some great conversation with them. Overheard: “A whole year! I thought I was 29 and I was 28. Maybe this year, I will be 28 for the whole year instead of 29.” Amen to that. Unless your age is 10, 12, 15, or 18 and stamped on the side of a Scotch bottle, how much does it really matter? My other companions at the bar were a pretty motley crew. There was George Dickel, a rye but charcoal mellowed, a process made famous by Tennessee whiskey (although this rye is from Indiana), Dead Guy Whiskey out of Oregon, and Fighting Cock bourbon from Kentucky.
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It being Super Bowl Sunday, I headed to the nearest bar without a TV, but with an exceptional view: a wall o' whiskey. Because this is it, folks. Final showdown in my 30-day challenge to drink 33 whiskies. And it all came down to Jim Beam soft red wheat bourbon against Jim Beam brown rice bourbon. The match up seemed pretty even. Both 11 years. Both 90 proof. I can tell you right now this is not the Jim Beam you tipped back (quickly) during college, which I think is the last time I tried Jim Beam. These are more well-aged, refined, post graduate bourbons. Everybody needs their escape sometime – whether it’s avoiding that final paper or avoiding football. And I would say that Jim Beam seems to be able to deliver in both categories. There’s something that seems right about drinking Scotch next to a huge fireplace with a deer head looking down on you. I feel like Ron Swanson would approve. This is about as close to a Scotch hunting lodge as I am going to get. And actually, it’s not too bad of a setting for bourbon, either. I don’t do a ton of day drinking, especially on a Thursday, so it felt unusual to be drinking with the sun streaming through the windows of a ski lodge. But then I would look outside at the cowboy strumming guitar for people sitting around a fire pit in wooden rocking chairs and think, well, it kind of fits. It’s becoming harder to find whiskies I haven’t tried for my New Year’s Challenge to taste 33 new whiskies in less than 30 days, especially at a typical bar that doesn’t have 100 kinds of American whisky on the shelf or an immense collection of Scotches. We’ve left Brooklyn for sure, Toto, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t good whiskies to find in Colorado – even if the pairings are a little less calculated and a little more “what can I try from this menu that I haven’t tried yet.” Today, that took me to a couple of interesting options – a High West bourbon called American Prairie Reserve and a Scotch from Campbeltown – Springbank 15 year old. Without intending to, I set up the rough versus the gentle whiskies today. Seriously, Tonintoul calls itself “the gentle dram.” Colonel E.H. Taylor doesn’t declare itself rough, but I will. The colonel, though, he’s like a challenging conversation. I stick around because I think I feel like I will learn something. I like that. And then I go to Tomintoul for a hug. Because I like hugs, too. On a cold, wintry evening, sitting in a library by a fire with a Scotch and jazz music playing is about as perfect as it gets. The only thing I would have added is a purring cat on my lap, but I don’t think they allow those at the Brandy Library. The Brandy Library really seemed more of a whiskey library to me and featured my favorite décor – shelves of bottles surround the room, bathed in an amber glow, and little ladders roll across for easy reach to their extensive collection. They have cigars and a fireplace and comfy chairs. For those who have read Little Women, it’s kind of like I picture Laurie’s grandfather’s library if you take out the books and replace them with whiskey. It’s also very quiet like a library. Tough to choose off the menu. It’s one of the better Scotch selections I’ve seen in New York – many lines of delicious-looking unpronounceable names. I went with Aberlour’s A’bunadh to start out with. And then I also tried W.L. Weller 12-year. It's a bourbon not Scotch, but I couldn’t resist – I haven’t seen it anywhere and I like all the other Wellers. If Scotch is for a wintry evening by a fire, bourbon makes me want to sit on a porch in the shade, but actually either of these would be fine anywhere. Especially in my mouth where they belong. |
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