The weekend is over; the week has begun. As is typical of Mondays, I have little to say about the weekend past. Come Wednesday, that might change. I will say, however, that the real discovery for me this weekend was
Bowmore Darkest. That little malt was so tasty, in fact, that I didn't mind this year's absence of both Dalwhinnie and Lagavulin.
4 comments:
Well, I'm sure the weekend has tales best left untold, so I just lounged in the whisky reviews link of Bowmore Darkest you left. I came to the conclusion that I will pay one of the reviewers, Jim Murray, handsomely to write my epitaph. If he declines, I may just have to steal his chops from the Bowmore Darkest review.
Here Lies DarkoV,
Perhaps uncomplex and lacking sophistication,but (his) balance is quite stunning. While seemingly quiet and demure he was filled with the deeply rumbling smoke of opinions that were wonderfully clean oloroso sounds clinging to one's ears long after they were written. His spirit, which suggested youth but offer(ed)a faultless (experience/Candidish) combination, shall be with us always.
So, shed not a tear but hoist your glass of Bowmore Darkest to him, perhaps letting a drop spill onto his grave.
No comment on the weekend past? Are you coming down from a mountain top experience or just a really good hangover?
For now I'll just have to imagine what wild adventures you must have had so that I can live vicariously through them...
Well there you go - you're one up on me: never heard of Bowmore Darkest, and am quite sure I've never tasted a sherry-casked Islay, which has surely got to be interesting and unusual?
Sherry-casked as a rule are my favorites.
DV - Murray's something, isn't he? He was one reason why I didn't think I had too much to say about either the whisky or the weekend. I wondered if I'd actually had the same whisky he did. Then I wondered if I was worthy of the drink. Then I wondered if Murray wasn't marking out his territory, as it were, telling the rest of us to back off and leave such fine drinking to erudite types such as himself. In which case I would probably borrow a few of FCB's invectives, and get back to the business of enjoying the drink.
TR - neither mountain-topped nor hung-over was I, thank you. I think part of the "unremarkableness" of this weekend had to do with the colour of the leaves: green. Usually the hills are lit up by the end of September. Not this year.
FCB - I'm with you on the sherry-cask preference: they're all but a must, I think. Another discovery this weekend was Macallan Oak-casked, which I would be slow to recommend. Where the regular Macallan can be almost too intense, the oak-casked tasted like someone veered hard to the left to avoid the skunk, and landed in the water instead (alright, so Mr. Murray won't be looking for a job anytime soon. But you get the picture.).
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