After enough evenings sitting at a bar doing tastings on my own, I got a nice reminder how social whisky can – and should – be by sharing a couple of bottles of Scotch with my coworkers. It is not unusual on a Wednesday for an ice bucket and glasses to appear in one of our conference rooms with a bowl of popcorn. And for people to wander in after their day and help themselves to a pour. You know people enjoyed a Wednesday when you come in Thursday to your office – a little bleary-eyed – and find two almost empty bottles of Scotch, a very empty bowl of popcorn, and tasting notes from fellow drinkers who scribbled things like “I feel like I’m falling down a hole when I drink it.” This week, we sized up two blends of single malt Scotches. One I was quite familiar with – Monkey Shoulder. Adorable bottle with three monkeys on it, representing the three distilleries from the Speyside region that make the single malt Scotches inside. I can’t technically count this toward my challenge to taste 33 new whiskies in less than 30 days because it’s already such a good friend. I will say I enjoy it, though. Very drinkable. The other one – Sheep Dip – I had tried once, but long ago, so it counts. This was a favorite of my gun-in-his-boot grandpa who enjoyed a Scotch on the rocks regularly. The name came from trying to get the bottles past the tax man back in the day when they taxed more for the stuff that got people soused than they did for the stuff that got sheep de-loused (which I assume is what Sheep Dip was).
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Today’s whiskies seemed to have an escapism theme – Zeppelin Bend and Angel’s Envy rye. Battle of the bottles would be tough with these two: an artsy zeppelin flying around one bottle and a drawing of angel’s wings on the other. I think if I had to fly somewhere fast, a bar full of whiskey would probably be my destination, so the idea is not that far off. I added a new element of nerdiness to my tastings today. I brought a little bottle of vanilla and spice bottles full of cinnamon, cloves, and nutmeg. The idea was to smell the pure smells against the whiskey and then try and recognize them when I drank it. Then I realized I already kind of spread out all over the bar with my two glasses and the two bottles and some water and a straw and my iPhone and my whiskey notebook and my other notebook. Adding a spice rack seemed a little over the top. So instead I pulled them one by one out of my bag and tried to smell them inconspicuously. I don’t know how well I pulled that off, but thankfully, a bar at 4 p.m. on a holiday Monday is not too crowded. When I was a kid, I used to love to sit on the counter and open up spice jars to smell them, picking out my favorites. I would like to say that led me to a heightened sense of smell recognition, but I don’t think that’s the case. I feel like my sense of taste is strongly affected by texture and memory, which tends to get in the way of pure smell. I’m counting on practice makes perfect, though. And if I must drink more whiskey to learn its ways, well, then, I must. Ah, the après ski hour. Some people head for a refreshing, cold beer or warm hot chocolate after a day on the slopes. My drink of choice is – surprise! – whiskey. And since I’m in Colorado, I figured I would go local. Rocky Mountain water. Cowboy tradition. Seems fitting. I only knew of two Colorado whiskies, and I like them both – Stranahan’s and Breckenridge bourbon. Little did I realize that whiskey-making has a larger presence in the Centennial State. At a liquor store outside of Denver, I found myself facing an entire wall of whiskey from local distilleries. A Coloradan steered me away from the imposters – made in Kentucky or elsewhere, but slapped with a Colorado label – and pointed me toward three very interesting choices. After a morning of skiing, I decided it was time to warm up with a tasting. |
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