Longing

The restless spirit of spring seeps beneath my skin and I find myself filled with a longing for...more. Is this a passing mood or a recognition of a deeper truth? This question seems to return to me like the seasons: in regular cycles and with fits and starts heralding its arrival.

This spring has been particularly fitful, full of sudden swings - in temperature and temperaments. Warm days followed by snow, hot days followed by freezing cold rains... The buds emerged but then were covered in frost. At times it almost seemed as if winter was just not going to let go. I suspect it is a common story and part of the natural way of things, despite our collective scoffing and apparent disbelief; change of seasons, change of anything, generally comes with struggle.

One of the questions caught up in this mysterious spring-time longing was the allure of Lagavulin Distillers Edition. Was it really he that was so enticing, or merely the newness of him? Alice Merton sings about this tension - the pull between standing still and moving on - in one of her songs. If this feeling is familiar, pack a bag with a bottle and a glass, and wander off with the whisky as your guide, listening to No Roots.

When I first met him I was enthralled, but much time had passed before I had a second meeting. He stayed elusive for a long while, but as winter finally decided to let go of its hold, I found him again. We went back to my home, where I introduced him to a couple of friends. They were curious to meet this debonair fellow I had talked about, so I poured each of us a dram and he and I began to get reacquainted.

The strong impression I had at our first meeting echoed only faintly in my mind. It had been so long that no specific memories of his personality remained - only a cloaked sense of warmth and fascination. It was almost like meeting him for the first time.

In the company of friends, I shyly brought the glass to my nose. His scent was strong but non-descript. The first sip was creamy and sweet, if a bit flat. A hint of iodine colored the conversation, but not in a bad way.

After adding water I didn't notice a big shift. A taste of ash kept things real and grounded; there was substance to this lad. Something that struck me as disappointing, though, was that the sips did not seem to linger. He was warm and sweet, distinguished and reserved, but the sensations faded soon after the glass left my lips. He had character, and I enjoyed our conversation, but...he did not sate my longing.

One might think that should have been enough to settle the question of what my opinion of him was. But there's a funny thing about longing - it can contain a message on either side of choosing; it can mean that we need to stay, or it can mean that we need to move on. And I'm not entirely sure yet how to tell the difference.

As is often my way, I turn to nature for inspiration and wisdom. The buds and shoots in their winter slumber may not know, through snow or sun, what they are being called to do, but the way ultimately becomes clear. When the time is right, they know which way to grow. No matter how cold the winter, no matter how tumultuous the turning, the spring always comes. I trust it will be the same with the lads.

For now, there's still something about Lag 16 Distillers that calls me back. We'll meet another time, for sure, and despite confusion around what it all means. In this uncertain world we travel, often bemused by longing, it is helpful to remember that the uncertainty will pass, and though it may not resolve as we expect -  the longing leads to living, and living is always the right choice.

Winter's Night

Having been reunited with Talisker, I was enjoying having him at home with me on these winter nights. But for a woman who hates the cold, winter can lead to stir-craziness. So, when a friend of mine invited me to a whisky mixer, I jumped at the prospect. There would be lots of folks and lots of new lads to meet. Naturally, I brought Talisker along to the festivities.

Besides great conversation and new whisky to meet, there was a beautiful pot-luck spread of delicious foods. It turns out it was the host's birthday, so there was also chocolate cake. We lined up all of the bottles in general order of strength and smokiness. Talisker was at the smoky end, second only to a new Lagavulin brother I had yet to meet.

Winter nights have long been a source of inspiration and stories. There's a song that I've recently learned that speaks to this. The lyrics mention drinking wine, but I'm sure Scotch would suffice for the same purposes. Hopeless romantics everywhere, grab a dram of your best and listen to Kent Gustavson's version of Rovin' on a Winter's Night:

I started with Knob Creek, the first in the line-up. A bourbon in a short bottle, he was mild and sweet. He had a bit of a bite, like burnt sugar and a little bit of salt and pepper to him. While I was chatting with KC, I met Margaret who was actually on her first official whiskey date. Having never really met any of the Scotch lads, bourbons, or Irish whiskeys, she was jumping in with both feet and having introductions to all of them this evening. I briefly reminisced on my first whisky tastings, and assured her she would have a wonderful time.

There were a couple of other bourbons besides Knob Creek, and even though I knew I wouldn't really hit it off with any of them, I didn't want to be rude. So, I introduced myself to all of them, in turn. Old Forester was distinguished looking in his simple, straightforward bottle. He was mild and kind, but I didn't spend much time with him before moving on.

Next there was a local fellow from Kopper Kettle. He and his brothers were at the Women Who Whiskey event back in November, but I didn't really get a chance to speak with them. His nose was a bit floral with notes of cream. I enjoyed our chat and he was sweet, of course, as most bourbons are. I also noticed a musk overtone and hints of pine. Overall he was a lovely gentleman.

While I was getting to know the last of the bourbons in the line up, I met one of the other guests at the gathering. Aaron, a true bourbon fan, told me fun stories from his childhood growing up in Kentucky. We exchanged praises of our favorite liquors, and when I told him of my love for Talisker, he admitted that he wasn't much for the Scotch lads.

This made sense though, since the distillery was such an integral part of the area he grew up in. During Christmas time, he and the other children would travel there to meet and take pictures with Santa. You can't really compete with the notstalgia of childhood memories when it comes to picking a favorite spirit. When I asked his personal favorite? Aaron had a hard time choosing, but picked 4 Roses Bourbon. Sadly, that particular whiskey wasn't at the party, but I made a mental note to keep an eye out and have a chat with him should our paths cross.

Next up was a very exotic specimen. The tallest and thinnest of the line up was Brenne French Single Malt. I didn't even know you could find a single malt from France. I didn't think they did that kind of thing in the country, but there he was, looking smart with his blue label and standing proud with his neck stretching far above the others.  I doubt I'd find the chance to meet such a one as him again, so this was a wonderful opportunity. He was very different from any of the other single malts I've ever tried.

A fresh pineapple and banana nose flowed into a soft and complex flavor of fruity vanilla. Adding water strengthened his nose and revealed more flavors such as citrus and peanut. It almost made me think of juicy fruit gum. He was lighthearted and shy - very surprising, but such a delight to chat with.

It was time for birthday cake, and I thought it would be wise to take a break and enjoy some of the fantastic looking food. There were still several lads to meet, and I knew things would get interesting. I realize that Lagavulin 16 didn't impress me much, but I was fond of his younger brother - the 8 year. So, all night at this party I couldn't keep myself from eyeing their older brother, the Double Matured Distiller's Edition. At the end of the line, next to Talisker Storm, the Lagavulin stood patient and nonchalant; but I couldn't wait to meet him...

What the Water Gave Me

Some time ago, I had this notion of learning to live life by embracing the chaos. It was a simple enough deduction - life had proven chaotic and unpredictable, and fighting against it proved fruitless time and again. So I asked myself - what if I just lean into it?  It's a lot like the eye of the storm, or surfing a wave. The chaos is a given, and you can't escape it, but the surest way to make it harder and more miserable for yourself is to try to fight it.

It's a lesson I often forget, but life kindly reminds me - time and time again. I've recently moved, am still trying to get a new business off the ground, have started a few other creative projects, and also...I'm approaching a milestone birthday that I'm not quite sure about. Right on time, life steps in with the reminder...and while embracing it may have worked at one time, I think it's time to step up the game.  I am now learning to surf the chaos.

 

In alignment, this post is a bit chaotic in nature. It's been a long time since my last post, and I have been questioning which path this journey should continue on. I am fairly certain that I will remain constant to my adoration of Talisker Storm...yet...there still seems to be unexplored horizons calling.

In honor of chaotic mystery, here is a taste of one of my favorite artists, Florence and the Machine. If you've never heard her music before, I am honored to introduce you. She's a passionate muse herself, and I invite you to take a spicy dram that challenges your status quo and let the spirit and the song sweep you into that beautiful dervish where imagination and the moment collide...

My tasting has been long overdue, and I had to make my way to the Alley Light to have another showdown between two of my preferred Scotches, continuing to narrow down the competition for my beloved. The options at the bar presented me with a clear pair to test side by side: Talisker 10 and the young Lagavulin 8.

There were bartenders there I didn't recall meeting before. Micah ended up pouring my drams for the evening. He seemed unsure of my purpose there that night, but he was kind and obliging to my requests for pictures.

 

I suspected this would be an easy pair to tell the difference between, and I was right. Their noses gave them away from the start. I never doubted which was which, but I still enjoyed comparing them with each other, and noticing the little things about them I may have missed in my previous meetings.

The Talisker was on the left, and his nose was much stronger compared to the Lagavulin. Bold, with the spicy sea smoke that reminds me of Storm. Iodine and vanilla notes crept in as well after we sat for a bit. The Lagavulin had a very muted and almost imperceptible nose at first, with a soft hint of nuttiness. To taste, the Talisker had the sharp smoky ash that is familiar to me. Lagavulin was creamy, with a spice at the end and a hint of sweetness.

As I began my chats with these lads for the evening, I realized that I was enjoying the Lagavulin a bit more. Talisker has a lot of similar traits to his cousin Storm, but there is something absolutely lacking. And it's all of the things together that have kept Storm my favorite all this time.


Pondering the subtle differences between these lads, and all the experiences to be found within a sip of Scotch, I recognized a bit of chaos in the act of tasting as well. Each sip is a virtual tornado of sensations and flavors that to the untrained can seem like an overwhelming cacophony. But leaning in, you can learn to discern the different nuances, as elements continue to reveal themselves in ever-unfolding layers - much like the experience of life.

The choice is always there: do we turn away or go towards? Do we grow or wither? Do we try to control the chaos or learn to ride its waves, and perhaps discover new heights we'd never achieve without it?

In tastings as well as living, we must expect that certain layers will be unpleasant. In my recent move, a plant that I own might have been traumatized beyond recovery. I've had this money tree since it was a wee 8 inches tall. It grew over the years into into a 5-foot plus thriving example of flora. It's huge 5 petaled leaves and entwined branches became a constant companion of my dwelling, always welcoming me home after a long day or a stay away, and greeting me in the mornings with gentle reminders to feed and water it.

During the move, the tree accidentally got left outside in the too-hot sun for a few hours, and by the time I realized what had happened, most of its leaves were bleached white or half burnt to a crisp. It was such a sad sight to see. I took it inside and have been trying to nurse it back to health; while I was slighlty hopeful at first, as the days go by, the prognosis does not look so good. Its leaves are slowly falling off, one by one. I hear them throughout my day, gently falling onto the floor, whispering a subtle shudder of release.

As the metaphor becomes apparent, I wonder - when is it time to let go? Is this a shedding to allow for new growth, or a helpless clinging to life? Time will tell for sure. And I will do what I can in the meantime, raising a dram to the honor of this tree and life it has lived.



I continued to compare the Scotches at the Alley Light; After adding water they didn't change too much, but opened up a little. Talisker revealed a banana scent, and Lagavulin's earthy notes came forward more. The water seemed to intensify the spiciness of Talisker, and as I continued the conversation I discovered a center layer that reminded me of a Ferraro Rocher candy. It was like a crisp shell of spice breaking open to reveal the sweet creamy center and, like the hazelnet at the center, a strong presence, like a pepper-nut. And just as quickly as it came, that flash of flavor was gone. Such is the way with these tastings.

Lagavulin was darker, richer, sweet and warm. Of the two, he is the one I prefer, and I will one day have him beside Talisker Storm to see if he can compare. To be honest, I doubt that he will, but you really never can be sure. Life is unpredictable, of course, and we never know what the next wave will bring. Good riding to you on your journey - Sláinte!

 

Lagavulin 8

When I first went to Alley Light a few weeks ago, I met a man who was drinking a bourbon, but was a little familiar with Scotches. He told me he was the sous chef at Tavola, which is a restaurant in town I had never been to. I told him of my Scotch-tasting journey, and he told me that his spirit of choice for exploring different flavors and nuances was Amaro. I've never tried an Amaro, and despite years of bartending, actually didn't even know what it was. He also told me that at his restaurant they had the 8 year old Lagavulin; meeting the younger brother of Lag 16 was a long awaited moment that finally happened the other night.

There were no particular songs I was able to hear that evening, but the next night some neighbors and I had an impromptu 80's dance party around the firepit, and I heard the classic, Take On Me. It had been a long time, but this song is always a favorite. It's just an all around feel-good song, and it pairs well with the Lagavulin 8 tasting at Tavola - an overall feel-good evening.

Tavola is a very classy little restaurant in the Belmont area of Charlottesville. All of their bar tools are copper; I absolutely love copper, so I was quite impressed with this place immeditely. McCraigan and Steve also work at this bar, and they were both there that night. I don't usually like to go out to meet a new Scotch on a weekend evening, but since two of my friends were joining me, it just worked out that way. They were very busy, but thankfully we arrived after the big rush of the evening, and there was just enough room for us at the bar. 

Steve gave in to letting me take his pic this time; he poured me and one of my friends a dram of the Lagavulin 8, while my other friend went with a cognac. There was only one Glencairn glass left, so I got that one, but the other glasses were beautiful in their own right.

The first thing we noticed about Lag 8 was the color. Pale and golden, his appearance was much lighter than most of the lads I've met. The nose was a beautiful balance of smoky and sweet, with a strong presence of pepper.

First taste revealed a warm and smooth personality with a touch of iodine, and a hint of sour or citrus. Overall there was a light creamy sweetness that I found absolutely delicious.

Adding water softened his nose a bit and brought more sweeetness and vanilla to my attention. For the tongue, the water only made him hotter. The smoke was present, but not overpowering, and he was definitely sweet, but not too much so, as I found his older brother to be.


Lagavulin 8 is one of those Scotches that is only around for a short while. The distillery released this younger version for their 200th anniversary, and I know they won't last for long. I really want to find a way to put him and Talisker Storm side by side though. Regardless, Lag 8 is one of my favorites, for sure. My friend who tasted with me also found him to be a good lad to hang out with. My other friend was not interested in meeting him at all.

She and I started talking about Amaros and I explained to her the very little I knew from what the man at the bar had told me. We got Steve in on the conversation and started asking about all the ways of this bitter, herbal spirit. From the way he described it, it seemed like something right up my friend's alley, so he poured us a taste of a good introductory Amaro.

I found it very sweet and lemony up front, but with a strong bitter aftertaste, that I wasn't quite ready for. I was grateful for the introduction, but quickly returned to the conversation with Lagavulin, not wanting to interrupt the chemistry that I was enjoying with him.

My friend liked the Amaro better than the cognac she was drinking though, and she thought she might really get into this type of drink, so we decided we'd come back soon to try some more.

It was a fun, relaxed evening overall - with good friends, great bartenders, fantastic whisky, and a very cool place to be with them all. I'm looking forward to our next visit and seeing what else may be in store.