So after dinner, after I’ve enjoyed my meal (hmmm… salmon burger with winter salad…), and most importantly, after I’ve had a chance to clear off my tongue with a litre of water, I’m ready for my next birthday dram at Feather’s Pub.
It’s a thing I do every so often. Three times a year, if I’m being honest. 20 if I’m lying. 40 if I’m blowing smoke up your ass.
And speaking of smoke, it’s time to pass the peat barrier. For all you new Scotch drinkers, the peat barrier is the idea that when reviewing you never have something peated and then review something unpeated. The reason? You’ve fucked your tongue.
No, not in that great Las Vegas the whisky is alive and fucking my tongue way. More in the “you can’t taste shit” way.
Ardbeg 1974 Signatory Vintage is one of the few 1970 whiskies at The
View original post 489 more words