The end of the affair?
Apr. 25th, 2007 09:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
featherynscaleLast night, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kittenpants and I went out with starrthinks for dinner at McCoy's, which is our favorite place to take out-of-town guests. The food is phenomenally tasty and reasonably priced, and they brew their own beers, several of which I believe to be the best beers in the history of beer (which is a claim I could be persuaded to fight about very easily).
Sadly, the dietary plan we're on does not allow beer. This is generally not an onerous restriction, but at McCoy's, it's a little painful. Fortunately, McCoy's also has a reasonably good selection of Scotch. So I figure I'll have some whisky instead. And lo, on the whisky list, they now display a Lagavulin, which has been my favorite of all whiskies. Life is good, right?
So I get a thimblefull of the Laguvulin, and I'm anticipating the whole complicated experience of this particular whisky -- I mean, when I say it's my favorite, what I really mean is that while a taste is not better than *all* sex, it's certainly better than *some* sex. All of the happy places in my brain go haywire even at the smell. I take a sniff. Something is off. I take a sip. Instead of the fabulous smoky, peaty, leathery, peppery, mildly honeyed goodness I have come to expect, this taste is mostly sweet. I can discern the other flavors under the sweet, but they're wildly overpowered by the sweet. Is this the same whisky? On the whisky list, the restaurant doesn't list the age of the bottle -- I'm used to a 16-year, and I wonder if this is some different expression.
So this morning, I took a moment to research that possibility. It seems unlikely -- the primary stuff the distillery puts out is the 16-year. It's run a few limited-edition malts that were 12-years, or 14-years, but primarily the 16 is all you're getting, and although McCoy's is an excellent establishment, I have a hard time imagining that they are the sort of place where you get limited-run single malts. So the answer must be something different. Maybe they brought me the wrong whisky, something similar but not the same? Maybe a Talisker? No, it didn't taste like a Talisker either.
Then, an ugly theory begins to gather in my brain. I have been avoiding anything with added sugar. Perhaps the Lagavulin tastes sweeter because I'm just much more sensitive to sweet tastes than I used to be. You know how in films, when the villains are thwarted, they raise their arms to the heavens, shake their fists, and cry "Noooooooooooooooooooo!!". That's how I feel about that. If it comes down to a choice between being healthier and more attractive, and being able to appreciate whisky, I'm not sure which option I'd take.
Not that the experience was bad, of course. It was still a good whisky. But, when you come right down to it, I can get a good whisky from the Isle of Jura line for half the price. Sometimes I don't want a good whisky, I want an amazing whisky, and I may have lost the option for that.
I'm willing to try it again before completely embracing this conclusion, though. Maybe my brain was off. Maybe they did bring me the wrong drink. Or maybe, Lagavulin just isn't going to push my buttons anymore, and I'll have to find something else that does. There's other fish in the sea, right? So, Lagavulin, I'm giving you one more try, but if you don't satisfy me, I'm gone. Don't look for me. Especially not down the street with the Ardbeg boys.
kittenpants and I went out with starrthinks for dinner at McCoy's, which is our favorite place to take out-of-town guests. The food is phenomenally tasty and reasonably priced, and they brew their own beers, several of which I believe to be the best beers in the history of beer (which is a claim I could be persuaded to fight about very easily). Sadly, the dietary plan we're on does not allow beer. This is generally not an onerous restriction, but at McCoy's, it's a little painful. Fortunately, McCoy's also has a reasonably good selection of Scotch. So I figure I'll have some whisky instead. And lo, on the whisky list, they now display a Lagavulin, which has been my favorite of all whiskies. Life is good, right?
So I get a thimblefull of the Laguvulin, and I'm anticipating the whole complicated experience of this particular whisky -- I mean, when I say it's my favorite, what I really mean is that while a taste is not better than *all* sex, it's certainly better than *some* sex. All of the happy places in my brain go haywire even at the smell. I take a sniff. Something is off. I take a sip. Instead of the fabulous smoky, peaty, leathery, peppery, mildly honeyed goodness I have come to expect, this taste is mostly sweet. I can discern the other flavors under the sweet, but they're wildly overpowered by the sweet. Is this the same whisky? On the whisky list, the restaurant doesn't list the age of the bottle -- I'm used to a 16-year, and I wonder if this is some different expression.
So this morning, I took a moment to research that possibility. It seems unlikely -- the primary stuff the distillery puts out is the 16-year. It's run a few limited-edition malts that were 12-years, or 14-years, but primarily the 16 is all you're getting, and although McCoy's is an excellent establishment, I have a hard time imagining that they are the sort of place where you get limited-run single malts. So the answer must be something different. Maybe they brought me the wrong whisky, something similar but not the same? Maybe a Talisker? No, it didn't taste like a Talisker either.
Then, an ugly theory begins to gather in my brain. I have been avoiding anything with added sugar. Perhaps the Lagavulin tastes sweeter because I'm just much more sensitive to sweet tastes than I used to be. You know how in films, when the villains are thwarted, they raise their arms to the heavens, shake their fists, and cry "Noooooooooooooooooooo!!". That's how I feel about that. If it comes down to a choice between being healthier and more attractive, and being able to appreciate whisky, I'm not sure which option I'd take.
Not that the experience was bad, of course. It was still a good whisky. But, when you come right down to it, I can get a good whisky from the Isle of Jura line for half the price. Sometimes I don't want a good whisky, I want an amazing whisky, and I may have lost the option for that.
I'm willing to try it again before completely embracing this conclusion, though. Maybe my brain was off. Maybe they did bring me the wrong drink. Or maybe, Lagavulin just isn't going to push my buttons anymore, and I'll have to find something else that does. There's other fish in the sea, right? So, Lagavulin, I'm giving you one more try, but if you don't satisfy me, I'm gone. Don't look for me. Especially not down the street with the Ardbeg boys.
