Mmm, Nikka Whisky at DUG

This:

Dewars and Cherry Blossom Liqueur? Hells yes.

And this:

No, not modeling, smart ass!

In other words, geniuses, I was in Japan. I had sashimi, and ramen, and far too many Highballs in a can.

Just kidding, one can never have too many Highballs.

Sold at the local 7-11. Yes, seriously.

There are just so many reasons to love Japan (Harajuku, Yoyogi Park and its Elvises, ryokans in Kyoto, cherry blossom season, efficient bullet trains, its cleanliness), but none of those beat its delicious whiskies and various modes of transporting said whiskies down your classy gullet. And for that, I am eternally grateful.

See you soon, Nihon.

So long, and thanks for all the fish whisky!

Oh, yes, I did.

Often, you’ll find elaborate calendars with a small gift (typically shite chocolate) concealed in each window, like so:

This year, instead of disappointing your kids (again), gift them with a special whisky advent calendar (available at Master of Malt; they also have the gin version).

Cause nothing says I’m a responsible parent like giving your children booze.

Could it be the colder weather? Maybe it’s the colder people (who need a few drinks)?

I’ll go with colder weather.

But seriously, they’re whoring it up like never before.

First it was the Glenlivet Guardians

Then came the House of Walker

And now, it’s Macallan

I mean, I’m not complaining. Hell, it’s free Scotch, and (at least for the first and third events) damned-good Scotch, too.

If you haven’t ever tried good Scotch and/or your only impression of it is this guy

Then, by all means, RSVP to one of these events in your nearest city:

Raise the Macallan: http://www.raisethemacallan.com/Event

Glenlivet Guardians: http://www.theglenlivet.com/guardians/

House of Walker: https://rsvpjohnniewalker.com/rsvp/10001?sc=SF5

(I can’t help it, my mum keeps sending me potica* from my favorite bakery!)

Potica > those silly, "good for you" apples

On the bright side, guess what else I can fit under that belt? Another annual of the Single Malt & Scotch Whisky EXTRAVAGANZA! Set for Wednesday, November 14 at the InterContinental in San Francisco. Actually, they’re whoring it up all over the states, but this is the one to be at.

Tickets are normally $150 a pop, but you can use my promo code “DID2012” to get the $135 member price at any of the events. Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome.

Get your tickets now for the event so you can later read up about my whisky-sippin’ good times. I’ll be the awkward girl roaming around the tables, taking whisky notes the old-fashioned correct way: with a pen and pad. Also, come mock the red glow I get from drinking all that hooch.

What more could you possibly ask for? You get a discounted price (with the promotional code), and me, awkwardly wandering the whisky selections as I get ruddy-faced throughout the night.

Get your tickets here or call 800-990-1991, if you’re into the whole interacting-with-people thing.

*It’s a sweet pastry typically comprised of walnuts and brown sugar rolled into a loaf of mouth-watering goodness, you uncultured swine.

Speaking of uncultured, the event is business casual; so no denim or athletic shoes (or trainers, for you Brits).

• An episode or fifteen of Arrested Development.
• A donut or 12 from Pepples (warning: you’re liable to see God with the vanilla cookie donut).
• An expo featuring 200+ of the world’s whiskies.

Enter: the Whiskies of the World Expo, held this year on the San Francisco Belle, Hornblower Yacht.

Wow, you can't even see the people puking off the side of the boat!

Now, imagine three hours on a docked, three-story gorgeous yacht with nowhere to go but 50 different booths all equipped with whisky ambassadors and lovers-of-the-booze vying to pour you a dram.

No, no, this isn’t heaven, but it’s pretty damned close. (Now, if Johnny Depp had showed up… with some Philly cheese steaks, we’d have a different story on our hands.)

A lot of the heavy hitters were invited to the party, including: Johnnie Walker, Glenmorangie, Laphroaig, and Glenlivet, among others, but some newcomers and out-of-towners also showed up, which I was stoked to see. The event featured some supremely tasty whisky, which people kept telling me was bourbon. Now, I’m generally not a fan of bourbon, namely because of its heavily cloying notes, but there were some delicious treats here.

Being the masochist that I am, my first stop was to a bourbon booth. Four Roses had me sample the Single Barrel (which had a surprising hint of spice, 35% rye and 60% corn whisky) and the Small Batch (with a tasty blend of four types of yeast). Both were quite good.

There was a great amount of excellent fire-water. Here are some highlights to the best hooch I sampled:

Dry Fly 100% Washington Wheat Whiskey: Don’t let the nose fool you, the palate was like a punch to my tastebuds’ babymaker. Not complaining, just a fact.
8 Seconds Black: An excellent sipping whiskey, this Canadian blend was the delicious counterpart to…
8 Seconds Premium: The less-tasty cousin to the 8 Seconds Black, this blend is perfect for cocktails; not so much for sipping.
Breckenridge bourbon: Another surprisingly tasty bourbon, this one, from Colorado, was voted by the International Wine & Spirit Competition as one of the top three in the world!
Pendleton: Blended Canadian whisky that would be obscene and quite orgasmic over some vanilla ice cream. Seriously.
Bulleit Kentucky Straight Bourbon: I gotta say, I’m a huge fan of Bulleit for cocktails. I’m not sure this hooch could hold its own as a sipping whisky, but add some good, sweet vermouth and I’m a happy girl.
Landy Cognac and Original Moonshine were made as and served up as cocktails by the local saloon, Elixir. The hooch was almost as tasty as those bartenders serving ‘em up. Well played, Elixir. Well played.
The Glenlivet XXV: A $250+ bottle, this was an exceptionally well-rounded, great balanced sauce. The site claims it tastes like “a damp, chalky cedar wall.” Um, yeah, I’m just gonna let Glenlivet stick to making the tipple, not writing about it.
Craft Distillers‘  Small Blend no. 1: Not even listed on the site, this super-tasty brandy was blended in the Germain-Robin cellars and incorporates 1990 and 1994 pinot noirs, 1983 and 1987 Colombard brandies, and a touch of invert cane sugar to give this blend a great mouthfeel.
Wild Geese Irish Soldiers & Heroes: Voted “best Irish whiskey” at San Diego’s SIP Awards. I tried four of their blends: Single Malt (hint of peat), Classic (light, meh), Rare (peppery with an odd coffee finish), and the Limited Edition (like chocolate-covered cherries with a strong finish), and I have to say, I don’t know what San Diego’s been smoking. (Well, I do know, but you know what I mean.) It wasn’t that good.

In addition to tasting over 30 whiskies–and still being able to stand, which, trust me: is a feat in and of itself–I made sure to hit the buffet (not too hard. Har har), which served up some pretty juicy prime rib, saucy pasta, and all the dinner rolls you could stuff into your tote bag.

Mouth-watering spread. Ahem...

I also sampled some of McQuade’s Celtic Chutneys, and had to seriously contain myself. I could have easily stuffed fifteen of those chutney-slathered crackers into my face hole (yes, at once), and still have asked for more. I had the Fig ‘N Ginger because they were all out of the Habanero. Now, I’m not a huge fig fan, but man-oh-MAN was that chutney where the party was at.

If you get a chance, order some up online (or if you’re in the San Francisco bay area, stop by the Ferry Building’s Cowgirl Creamery, Bi-Rite in the Mission, or the Irish Castle Gift Shop in the Tenderloin, and stock up on these jars) and make sure to send me some while you’re at it.

Yes, you.

A huge THANK YOU for creating the amazing new Dramsel logo. As thanks, I owe you something irresistibly delicious and decadent. Something that’s guaranteed to tickle your senses and make you weak in the knees. Something only a few are lucky to ever experience, much less taste.

That’s right.

You guessed it.

A dram of Rosebank 21. Sounds absolutely mouth-watering, doesn’t it?

Consider this is my official I.O.U.

Love,
the Fair Maiden

You’re thinking of this, right?

And this?

Possibly even this.

Weirdo.

Right, so how would you feel if I showed you THIS?

Nope, this isn't Photoshopped. (I know I'm good, but I'm not that good.)

This is a genuine can of single-grain Scotch whisky. YES. SERIOUSLY.

(It’s OK, I peed myself from excitement, too.)

Now, the Japanese have had Highballs (Scotch + soda) in a can for a while now. That’s not the same as Scottish Spirits’.

These babies hold straight-up, pure, unadulterated Scotch whisky. About 12 ounces, to be exact. They’re a blend of malt and grain Scotch whiskies, “rich in honey, vanilla, butterscotch, apples, and pears, with a nice hint of peat and smoke in the background,” as quoted by the company, Scottish Spirits. Now, I know what you’re gonna say: but does soda from a can suddenly change its flavor when it’s in a glass? A bit, maybe, but nothing too drastic, right? Right. So, whisky in a different container should be judged on its flavor and not the vessel.

Remember when boxed wine was considered preposterous? I mean, it still is, but it’s come a long way and some of that juice is pretty damned delicious.

Mama needs her juice box, kids.

So, with that out of the way, I would love to advocate cans of whisky, but this venture is a bit worrisome. I, like many, have become accustomed to seeing beverage cans at places like these:

Yum, people soup!

"Woo! I don't know what I'm cheering for! Woo!"

Don’t get me wrong, a can of whisky would be AMAZEBALLS at any of these places, but the idiocy of some people is what worries me. No, no, not the alcohol poisoning—pfffft, hahah. No—it’s the wastefulness of a half a can of whisky that bothers me.

Let’s be honest here, most people can’t handle the can’s eight-or-so shots of 80-proof booze in one sitting. And for about $5 a can, you know there’ll be plenty of cans to go around. It’s the pure wastefulness of the whisky that brings sadness in my soul and a tear to my eye.

Now, if the company can create a way to properly reseal the cans after minimal use, it’ll help subside that sadness a bit and introduce tears of joy.

My New Year's Eve date

I love Jameson.

Really, I do. So much so that I wanna shout it from the rooftops. (And often, I do.)

I’ve also introduced it to my mother, and not surprisingly, she cringed and hoped it was just a phase. My dad, however, loves it, but prefers its older, more financially dependable counterpart: Courvoisier VSOP. (Between you and me, although Courvoisier makes you feel all warm and tingly, that prick is too overpriced and haughty for my taste.)

My love of Jameson has grown beyond any other Irish whisky (although that Redbreast comes in a very close second–that’s what she said)! So, why is it, dear reader, that whenever I order a Jameson on the rocks, I get a variety of looks?

Ranging from:

Bitchy and mocking

Completely grossed out

"How you doin'?"

Your dungeon or mine?

I love the word EXTRAVAGANZA!

“All the single ladies (all the single ladies)!
All the single ladies (all the single ladies)!”

There. Now it’s stuck in your head, too.

OK, so yeah, I know The Single Malt & Scotch Whisky Extravaganza was over a month ago, but I have my reasons for the late post. A bit unbelievable, but still valid reasons. Here’s a start:

• I’m one of maybe seven women in a ballroom chock-full of at least 300 Scotch-loving, snazzy-dressed, good-looking men. As a single, straight woman: instant approval. I’m still reeling from this stroke of luck.
• I ignore the long buffet line to gain immediate access to the whiskies. Only, I end up sampling more than my liver could handle. (Now if I could only get good at this spitting business. Hey! Keep up, perv.) Coincidentally, I’m also still reeling from this.
• My sampling notes are being held hostage somewhere out in Virginia. This note-napper calls me “cucumber.” Seriously. I’m not creative enough to make this stuff up!

So without my notes, you’ll just have to believe me when I say this event was phenomenal. The participants provided obscenely entertaining pourers who were surprisingly knowledgeable of the brand and of the whiskies in general. (None of this hot-models-who-wouldn’t-know-their-Laphroaig-from-their-Ardbeg business. Who says I’m a whisky elitist?)

The obvious party goers showed up (The Macallan, Laphroaig, Glenfiddich, and Highland Park, among others) as did some surprising new kids on the block (anCnoc, Longmorn, Loch Chaim, and Usquaebach).

Just kidding, Jonathan wasn't there.

All in all, the tasting was a success. I’m sure it all tasted just as delicious coming back up, I just wish I could recall some of it.

On second thought, maybe not.

But not just any booze, WHISKY BOOZE.

The purveyors of this awesome-ness (AKA the awesome folks over at Master of Malt) sent over a few bottles for me to get drunk on review.

"Too much of anything is bad, but too much of good whiskey is barely enough." -Mark Twain (a wise, wise man)

With my remaining brain cells, here what I came up with:

North British 20 Year Old 1991 – Single Cask

Upon first whiff: W’hello, vanilla! Yes, I’ve contracted an Eliza Doolittle-ian accent.

THAT’S HOW MAGICAL THIS IS.

But seriously, it smells so good that I considered dabbing a bit behind my ears and on my wrists before my date. Ha! Just kidding, I don’t have anyone to go out with. But seriously, it’s that good.

Apparently, it’s a lowland grain whisky. Now, if you know anything about me, it’s that I’m an uppity snob about grain whiskies. In other words, I don’t like them much. But this certainly puts a stopper in my pie hole. Wait, that’s a gross analogy, I (almost) take it back. To be honest, I’m quite a fan of this.

Cragganmore 20 Year Old 1991 – Single Cask

Compared to the North British 1991, this definitely smells more… well, booze-y.

Oh! And tastes more booze-y, too. But that’s not to detract you from its awesomeness (or, for you lushes, to completely sell you on it, either).

A Speyside whisky, the Cragganmore is a bit dessert-y, but not in an obvious sort of this-tastes-just-like-Boston-Cream-Pie! kinda way. More like: it has hints of cinnamon and baked goodies. It’s weird to describe, but certainly something to order after a meal. Next time, I think I’ll get this AND an apple pie, thankyouverymuch!

Dailuaine 27 Year Old 1983 – Single Cask

So, this is one of those drinks that might singe a nosehair or five. Upon first (unsuspecting) whiff–of which I should have known better–I was taken aback a bit. By the second or third whiffs, I was instantly reminded of Belgian waffles because it smells eerily like maple syrup. And then that reminded me of Belgian men.

And so that reminded me of that one guy whom I dated that looks just like a 6’2″ Adrian Grenier and was … ahem. Where was I? Waffles, ah yes. The first sip is quite strong, but what a fantastic finish it’s got: smooth, sweet, and delicious.

What? Oh, right, and the whisky’s not bad, either.

Dalmore 14 Year Old 1996 – Single Cask

What an interesting first smell. And I don’t mean “interesting” like when you first meet someone who’s got on some hideous article of clothing and they ask you what you think and you’re put on the spot and have to think on your feet and the first thing you can blurt out without saying you hate it is, “why, that’s so interesting!” I mean, it’s truly something that can’t be immediately put into words; but I don’t hate it. No, no.

Oh, my, the first sip–well, after I coughed up a lung (and possibly pieces of my esophagus) because it got caught in my windpipe: it’s delightful! It’s sort of like the low-calorie version of the Cragganmore dessert. Rather than, say, apple pie, it’s more a fruit platter of passion fruit and guava; though it’s not tropical. It’s quite pleasing and very delicious.

Ron de Jeremy

The only rum I’m accustomed to (or have had any experience with) is the cheapest kind that I’d mix with diet soda during freshman year of college. And by “freshman year of college,” I mean all of it. So much so, that I’m pretty sure that year should’ve been called the Rum Blur, which is fitting because that’s what most of my words sounded like in my drunken haze. (“Rumblurrr, rmblrrr,” which meant, I need to vomit. NOW!)

But this is nothing like that. This is a fantastic, sweet Panamanian rum that’s only rightly named after someone as classy as Ron Jeremy. Master of Malt has decided the finish is of a “decent length,” but I would go as far as to say it’s extremely long, masterful, and spicy.

You might need a cigarette after this one.