I mentioned in my last review that I ended up drinking a dram that was one of two that changed my mind about things. The other was an independent bottling from a dead distillery that was torn down a year after I was born. From one of the best independent bottlers on the planet that no longer exists. From Italy.
Take a moment for that. This bottle comes out, and I don’t recognize anything. And it’s not one of those situations like when you find out she’s got a penis and you were in a mood for vagina. At no point was I lazily sucking a D, so it was a good surprise.
North Port was created in…
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