What’s On My Desk

Ah, so yes, I’m a few years older than the last time I posted on this blog. Life takes its course and passwords will be lost but eventually all is recovered. I’ve been honing a certain business hook over the years…scotch. It is an amazing tool to wield power over the minds of the male dominated industry I’m a part of. When boss men wants to impress with a bouquet of flowers (lame) I give them a look and tell them with no hesitation; “You want to thank me for the job I’ve done? Get me a good bottle of scotch.” and they get this funny little smile on their face investigating the possibilities of what kind of a gal I might really be. I just turn away and go back to work.  I’ll judge and assess all  these guys based upon the kind of scotch they give not the size of the sock stuffed in their pants. The only guy I fuck is my husband!

So boss man did right by me not too long ago and a bottle of Ardbeg Corryvreckan landed on my desk after a particularly arduous two weeks. Now we’re talking. He’s ok by me. He gives me shit when I deserve it and I know I can dish it back – for the most part. I have a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue at home – a Christmas gift from a couple of wonks in my office who think they’re hot shit. They need a lesson or two from the Whisky Woman. I admit to being nice to them for the gesture (it was, after all a pretty pricey gesture) but COME ON! So I swill the Blue while sneering at the wonks and savor the Ardbeg with a respectful “slainte” to the big man. My life is sweet.

I wish this Single Malt Scotch weapon worked as well on women. LOL


Desk still life


courtesy of ForScotchLovers.com

Powerful, muscular, well-textured, and invigorating. Even within the realm of Ardbeg,
this one stands out.

The more aggressive notes of coal tar, damp kiln, anise and smoked seaweed are
supported by an array of fruit
(black raspberry, black cherry, plum),
dark chocolate, espresso, molasses, bacon fat, kalamata olive, and warming

cinnamon on the finish. Quite stunning…This is a great whisky! 

Malt Advocate magazine rating: 96

Malt Advocate “Whisky of the Year” for 2009



Colour: Deepest amber

Aroma: Heady, intense and powerful.

With the first sniff, encounter the deep and turbulent force of Corryvreckan
as it pulls you inwards. Swirl the glass and dip your nose into the torrents of
tarry ropes, creosote and linseed oil rising from deep within the vortex.
As you succumb to its power, a collision of waxy dark chocolate, warm blackcurrants
and muscovado sugar pulls you under its spell with a burst of plump cherries
and earthy pine needles leaping from its depths.

Swirl water into the glass, and observe the magical collision of whisky and water.
As the liquid warms up, the seething cauldron bubbles and bursts, as you edge
closer to sniff a pot full of gutsy cayenne-peppered steak and oysters smothered
in hot pepper sauce. Salty seasoning brings a briny character with tangy crisp
seaweed and smoky bacon swirling on the surface with hints of sweet vanilla,
spicy cloves and blueberries.

As the whirlpool narrows and quickens moving ever deeper,
surrender to its dangerous depths with the heady force of menthol, treacle and chilli sauce.

Taste: Plunge into the whirlpool and taste the mysterious depths of Corryvreckan.
Torrents of taste well up on the palate; deep, peppery and chewy,
bombarding the tongue with its intense tastes and textures.

The first plunge brings forth chewy peppered steak soaked in pepper
sauce with the tang of crispy seaweed. As you descend deeper, encounter
a mouthful of black tarry espresso coffee that coats the palate with rich
melted dark fruits (blackcurrants, blueberries and cherries) and bitter almonds.
As the taste soaks in deeper, star anise and hickory dry out the palate before a
surprise of chalky effervescent violets fizz to the surface.

Finish: Long, deep and remaining powerful into the finish with black tarry
coffee, chocolate coated cherries and hot pepper sauce, the lingering memories
of your mysterious and daring journey into Corryvreckan.


Tasting Notes: Clynelish

I want to talk about the bottle I just put to rest; Clynelish.

My husband gave it to me mid summer as an experiment. Knowing our supply was low he ventured into the liqueur store across the street and arbitrarily picked from the whisky shelf behind the cash register. I’m always up for learning something new so I poured us both a glass and perused the label while I sampled the fare. My first impression was near revolt. Too damn salty! A closer look at the label revealed this scotch was, indeed, made near the sea and there was an inherent flavor of sea air in the liqueur. I thought perhaps this would go with a hearty steak dinner and possibly I would never take another sip of this stuff again. But I couldn’t waste a perfectly good glass of scotch so I persevered and made an amazing discovery.

After the initial burn and subsequent numbness of my mouth from the first few sips I found an awesome after-taste growing on the back of my tongue. It was an intriguing and powerful sensation. I looked at the amber liquid in my cut crystal glass and took another careful sip of the Clynelish. Rather than being hit by brackish fire water I was swept away into a land of sweet ecstasy. It drew me in and pushed me away at the same moment, like crazed lovers dancing between desire and repulsion. I was in limbo unable to do much but sit and let my taste buds go on a psychotropic trip. This is not a writer’s embellishment; it was a powerful sensation and truly demanded all of my attention. The dynamic between the sweet and the salt formed a harmonic chord of electric caramel that ran up and down my mouth, jolting me with occasional flashes of chocolate and cayenne. I regretfully finished my small glass and gazed out the window onto the summer eve, lost in thought.

I put the bottle in the cupboard and lingered momentarily, gazing at it with reverence. It was a most sensual drinking experience and that night my husband and I enjoyed the best sex we’d had together in a long while. This did not turn out to be his drink of choice so he gladly handed it off to me where I kept it safe and drew upon it’s potency as need or desire called for it. I was careful not to slip into flavor complacency and loose the adventure of a wild glass of Clynelish so every now and then I’d bring forth the bottle and pour myself a glass. Every time I was rewarded with an orgy of taste, but nothing beat that first time! I will never forget it and neither will my husband.