Whiskey... (For Steve - can we do Norfolk again?)

I mean, really? If you've been following me for ANY amount of time, are you surprised at today's topic?

You know I love my scotch. It is the second pillar of my existence (after coffee). It makes me so much nicer than I am in real life. It soothes and calms, de-jangles nerves and whispers sweet nothings that entice me to speak sweetly to my husband, pet the dog, smile at the neighbor and survive another day at  work.

I'll drink any kind of whiskey, too. Bourbon (American or Kentucky whiskey), Irish, Canadian. It's all good. But my sweet spot, my heart and soul - ah, now you are talking SCOTCH.

There are over 4 million "hits" on Google for "quotes about scotch." I've included a few of my favorites below. But here's why I love the stuff: it melts over my tongue like liquid gold, gently warming and infusing me with it's mellow, round, fullness. It instills a sense of well-being and tranquility with it's soft smokey character and round, peaty essence. It never makes me sick, gives me a headache or has me asking where I left the car, the purse, the ... well, never mind.

It's just good!

My preference is single malt; Oban or Glenlivet. In fact, the Glenlivet 15 (French Oak aged) is my hands-down favorite. I've had top shelf, bottom shelf and everything in between, but I have yet to find anything that beats the half-empty bottle of Haig & Pinch I inherited from my Grandfather.

It had to be at least thirty years old when I got it, the paper label peeling, the wire cage around the glass tarnished. I don't remember ever seeing him pour from it, but slowly, ever so slowly the liquid was consumed. Only after he had died did I learn he sipped once a year, on some unknown anniversary or otherwise special event and he never, never shared. It was the first, the finest and the most memorable Scotch I ever drank. And I've yet to find another that compares.

When it became my very own, my darling, my PRECIOUS - oh, how I coveted and safeguarded! I would hide it away in the deep dark corner of the closet, not letting any fellow Scotch drinkers know of it's existence. It was mine, MINE! And I would walk to the gates of Mordor to keep it safe...

Wait - that's another story.

So, Scotch. Yeah. I'm having a nice tall one now. No one ever said which two fingers to use when pouring a dram, right? And it's so simple; no mixing, stirring, blending or shaking.

A glass. A bottle. And me.

Happy Friday to all and as my good friends in Scotland would say Sláinte!

“She poured us some more Scotch. It didn't seem to affect her any more than water affects Boulder Dam.”
- Raymond Chandler

"There were years when I was a beer and tequila guy, then I got real fat. And then I found that you could actually go on a diet and drink scotch. Then I got hooked on scotch, and if you get hooked on scotch, then everything else just tastes wrong."

- Ron White

"Whenever someone asks me if I want water with my Scotch, I say I'm thirsty, not dirty."

-Joe E. Lewis

"Too much of anything is bad, but too much of good whiskey is barely enough." 

Mark Twain.