Training Log Archive: PGIn the 1 days ending Jul 30, 2015: |
| « | » |
| » now | ||||
| Th |
Thursday Jul 30, 2015 #
Note
Moving on, heading north, I remembered at some point that I had heard folks rave about something called "single malts," and I had no idea what they were talking about.
A little general research had identified them as a form of booze, therefore the popularity, also that each single malt was a unique taste. I clearly needed to know more. Obviously a distillery visit (or two, or three) was called for, but first some more education so I wouldn't appear so stupid.
It so happened, a little after noon, that we stopped for a wee bit to eat and drink at an inn well along on the road to Skye. The food and drink was more than adequate, but the significance of the stop was a discovery I made up at the bar of a little pamphlet describing all the single malts this place had to offer.
And what a collection. And here I'm referring not to the single malts themselves, but to the verbiage used to describe them. At which point, time for the photos.
Exhibit number one is part of one page (there were five or six pages overall). First impression was the flowery language. Who makes this stuff up? Second impression was noting the price of the first item (and I'm assuming this is for an ounce or two of the stuff). Must be really special.
Exhibit number two put number one to shame -- a sip or two of a 1969 Glenlochy for a hundred quid. Certainly better than the Highland Park from Isles that ends up tasting like wood shavings.
That last bit led me to further investigate the Islay region, and I found this --
Note the last sentence. "Its single malts are noted for their sea-weedy, iodine-like, phenolic character."
As Gail remarked, it would take a very special man to drink some of that.
I immediate thought she must be referring to Clem, both for the ability to drink the stuff and the style in penning the write-ups, but on reflection I am pretty sure Clem has higher standards for what he drinks, and his prose is certainly more obtuse. But he is still a very special man.
Though why is he not in Scotland?
A little general research had identified them as a form of booze, therefore the popularity, also that each single malt was a unique taste. I clearly needed to know more. Obviously a distillery visit (or two, or three) was called for, but first some more education so I wouldn't appear so stupid.
It so happened, a little after noon, that we stopped for a wee bit to eat and drink at an inn well along on the road to Skye. The food and drink was more than adequate, but the significance of the stop was a discovery I made up at the bar of a little pamphlet describing all the single malts this place had to offer.
And what a collection. And here I'm referring not to the single malts themselves, but to the verbiage used to describe them. At which point, time for the photos.
Exhibit number one is part of one page (there were five or six pages overall). First impression was the flowery language. Who makes this stuff up? Second impression was noting the price of the first item (and I'm assuming this is for an ounce or two of the stuff). Must be really special.
Exhibit number two put number one to shame -- a sip or two of a 1969 Glenlochy for a hundred quid. Certainly better than the Highland Park from Isles that ends up tasting like wood shavings.
That last bit led me to further investigate the Islay region, and I found this --
Note the last sentence. "Its single malts are noted for their sea-weedy, iodine-like, phenolic character."
As Gail remarked, it would take a very special man to drink some of that.
I immediate thought she must be referring to Clem, both for the ability to drink the stuff and the style in penning the write-ups, but on reflection I am pretty sure Clem has higher standards for what he drinks, and his prose is certainly more obtuse. But he is still a very special man.
Though why is he not in Scotland?
Note
And then in the evening, a pre-birthday celebration for Gail, her last day at 66, at a very fine fish restaurant in Portlee. I was accused of dreaming up this "pre-birthday" notion to cover my butt in case I forget tomorrow that it is her birthday.
She may have a point there... :-)
Looks awful good for 66.
She may have a point there... :-)
Looks awful good for 66.