The various threads about moving from bourbon-to-scotch and vise-versa planted a seed that has borne fruit I, a confirmed scotch drinker, have purchased bourbon.
I bought Woodford Reserve Double Oaked, figuring that it would be (in the words of Ron Burgundy) more scotchy given the additional barrel aging. I had not delved too deep into the reviews, because I havent consumed bourbon since 1999 (at a whiskey tasting at the Jameson Distillery in Dublin) and before that a few misadventures in my youth that have put me off the drink for decades.
I cracked it open yesterday afternoon. I had the firepit blazing and this is when I usually break out the single malt and perhaps a cigar or pipe. I took out my tumbler, poured three fingers of the deep amber liquid and settled into my chair by the fire.
The first sip was a jolt. The sharp taste and burn of the liquor was way beyond what I was expecting and I realized that drinking this neat was going to be something I would have to work up to over time. I dropped in three ice cubes, gave it a swirl and tried again.
Much better, the ice tempered the burn and I was able to start to really get into the taste of the liquor. I sipped through the three fingers in just about an hour and then I poured another two. At that point, I fired up the pipe, dropped more wood onto the fire and became entirely too comfortable.
If today wasnt a work day, I might have really gone deep into researching the nuances within the bottle but it was probably for the best that I stopped (as soon as the lovely bride told me that was enough, it was late and come on in the house). I can now pace it out a bit and learn to appreciate the burn.
I bought Woodford Reserve Double Oaked, figuring that it would be (in the words of Ron Burgundy) more scotchy given the additional barrel aging. I had not delved too deep into the reviews, because I havent consumed bourbon since 1999 (at a whiskey tasting at the Jameson Distillery in Dublin) and before that a few misadventures in my youth that have put me off the drink for decades.
I cracked it open yesterday afternoon. I had the firepit blazing and this is when I usually break out the single malt and perhaps a cigar or pipe. I took out my tumbler, poured three fingers of the deep amber liquid and settled into my chair by the fire.
The first sip was a jolt. The sharp taste and burn of the liquor was way beyond what I was expecting and I realized that drinking this neat was going to be something I would have to work up to over time. I dropped in three ice cubes, gave it a swirl and tried again.
Much better, the ice tempered the burn and I was able to start to really get into the taste of the liquor. I sipped through the three fingers in just about an hour and then I poured another two. At that point, I fired up the pipe, dropped more wood onto the fire and became entirely too comfortable.
If today wasnt a work day, I might have really gone deep into researching the nuances within the bottle but it was probably for the best that I stopped (as soon as the lovely bride told me that was enough, it was late and come on in the house). I can now pace it out a bit and learn to appreciate the burn.
