On St. Paddy's Day, I look back on my love affair with whiskey, as I sip a Jamison's neat with a beer back.
I forget how I first fell for her, that firey gab water. My father's always drunk it, but he didn't introduce me. Maybe it was hanging out with Kelani and her Maker's. It's just that, for some time now, I've loved the buzz and convivial spirit that a nice whiskey gives.
The Irish whiskeys are so pure and bracing, like a lonely moor. The Scotch a touch hoarier, with highland bite and peaty crunch. In the Canadian blends I find a calm, open smoothness.
I don't care what kind you hand me, Manhattan, Old-Fashioned or neat. Just let the whiskey flow, with good people, good music and eats.
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Funny, I remember first drinking whiskey with you in honor of your grandfather when he passed away. That was Bushmills I think. That started a long term love affair with whiskey. I don't know how I got into Makers....
ReplyDeleteCome down to the Overtime and try Michael Collins!
ReplyDeleteCheers