2010-11-12 09:16 pm

Smoke

I make it my general practice
not to drink and write.
At least, I try not to drink
when writing fiction,
where the prose should be clear
and lucid as water,
even as it refracts the light.

But poetry's a different matter.
A little whisky never
hurt a poem. Not much, anyway.
Certainly not this
glass of it, distilled from smoke
that might have
scribbled words like these in
the air as it
jittered away, leaving only this
amber residue,
not so transparent as it appears.

Smoke
2010-10-28 11:38 am
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Drinks by the dram by any other name...

According to Whisky Connosr: "Some ideas are so brilliantly simple you wonder why no-one has thought of them before."

Now, I love me some gimmicky new ways to quaff my favorite hoity-toity single-malt scotches, but seriously? No one's ever thought of "drinks by the dram" before? Maybe I'm revealing myself for the old fart I am, but in my day they called those "minibottles." And they were perfect for sneaking into a laser show at the Hayden Planetarium.

Okay, so that was only a few short years ago. My point stands.
2009-04-16 12:35 pm
Entry tags:

Happy days in Manhattan, or one at least

My scotch-loving friends in New York will want to hear about an email I just received from the Brandy Library. (Yes, I can't bring myself to unsubscribe from their mailing list.) The 16th Annual Single Malt & Scotch Whisky Extravaganza is coming to the Roosevelt Hotel on Thursday, May 7. Find all the information you need here. And if you go, knock one back for me.
2007-02-23 05:25 pm
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Along came a snifter

We didn't originally mean it to be a substitute for our Valentine's Day jazz-and-wine date. It just worked out that way, since I was stuck in Dallas all day on the 14th trying to get home to New York. (And unable to post to LiveJournal from a Neptune Networks kiosk, because for some unfathomable reason they consider this LiveJournal page to contain adult content. Not all of LiveJournal, mind you. Just the posting page. But that adventure is another story.)

So on Monday night, Laura and I ended up doing two things we've always wanted to do, and got them both done at the same time: taking a cheese class from Artisanal, and taking a spirits class from Brandy Library. The two birds were killed with a single stone called "Scotch Whiskey & Whey" at the Artisanal Premium Cheese Center at Tenth Avenue and 37th Street.

The instructors were Jon Lundbom from Artisanal and Ethan Kelley from Brandy Library. They were both excellent, engaging teachers, and they had selected a set of six pairings of scotch and cheese for us each to sample at our little benches. For some of you, reading this list will make your eyes glaze over; for the rest of you, reading this list will make your eyes glaze over, if you know what I mean.

Get glazed )

All the pairings were interesting at the very least, and it would not be hyperbole to call some of them revelatory. Looking over my notes, it seems that my favorite pairing was #5, though with the port finish that makes me feel uncomfortably close to a wine-and-cheese taster. #3 was a terrific pairing too.

Some of you know that Ardbeg Uigeadail is my very favorite scotch, so I was amused when Mr. Kelley warned everyone how violent the final pairing would be. According to my notes, when I went to record my impression of pairing #6, I couldn't even remember what the cheese tasted like. This may be because the Ardbeg was so powerful. It might also be because it was my sixth taste of whisky.

But we had a terrific time at the class, and we'd strongly urge you to save your pennies and try a class at either or both establishment. (And for our bourbon-drinking friends, we'll note that Artisanal has an "American Whiskey & Artisanal Cheese" class coming up at the end of May.)

I know I was only recently urging you to visit St. Andrews near Times Square, but now you will be as likely to find us lapping up knowledge at the feet (literally) of Ethan Kelley at Brandy Library. Possibly even at their upcoming calvados class! (Mmmm, calvados!)
2006-07-08 10:13 am
Entry tags:

On the rocks

So Michael Libling and I left the Meet the Pros(e) Party last night at about a quarter to midnight, intending to hit the hotel bar for a real drink. We sat down and the young waitress came by.

"What can I get you gentlemen?"

"What do you have in the way of scotch?"

"Um, Dewar's, Grant's..."

"Single-malt?"

"Um ... would you like to see a menu?"

"Please."

The menu arrived and we scanned the pretty decent list of single-malts for a minute.

"Are you ready, gentlemen?"

"Yes, we'll have two Obans, one on the rocks, one neat."

"Um, we can't serve an on the rocks."

"Um, okay, then two Obans, neat."

"What's neat?"

"Straight."

"Oh, we can't serve it to you straight."

"Um, why not?"

"We can't serve that after eleven-thirty. It's an hour before last call."

"Is that the law?"

"It's the hotel policy here. Only mixed drinks, beer, and wine."

"Oh. Well, there wasn't much point bringing us a scotch list then, was there?"

[Exuent, chased by nothing]