Tastes

Paired with a 1 kilo bag of Mini Eggs, and I'm seeing god. I always knew my first religious experience would be in the parking lot of a duty free.

Peat is one of the unique flavours you don't typically find elsewhere other than scotch and perhaps the garden centre on a humid day. Laphroaig has a bit of a reputation for packing a decent amount of wallop with its distinctive metallic smokiness, and is pretty binary in whether or not this is considered a good thing. Watching the reactions of first time Islay drinkers is a must.

Nose is a tasty dark cherry. Smooth honeyed cream with the slightest hint of smoke. There's a bit of this toasted grain taste to it, which reminded me of Smacks cereal, something I disliked as a kid. I had to google to see what grain it was made from, and one of the auto-completes suggests some find it has a urine odour. Ha ha, gross. Blooming aftertaste of orange zest.

Standard fare blended whisky that you receive as a gift because even though you've previously stated you're "more of a single malt kind of person, not to sound pretentious or anything, heh heh," you recall their eyes glazing over, so you accept it graciously because it really is the thought that counts. And hey, beats getting another scarf/winterware peripheral you inevitably lose. Still, a bottle thoroughly enjoyed on account of It Doing the Job of getting you right knackered, and setting your inhibitions to the point where practicing your Gollum impresson seems appropriate. While not really my tastes, it's not exactly hot dog water. Sweet, crisp with ethanol, touch of peppercorn. Mixes really well with cola, though, which seems to be the fate of gifted blends. Gollum impression still needs work, though.

The saving grace of the most boring dinner party I've ever attended. Man, I really hated those people. A good dram to have while you're thinking about claymores (both types) and high treason. Everything great about Islay, with an acute mineral taste in the realm of granite. **Update: "Uigeadail" is the only word that gets easier to spell when you're drunk.

I mean, anything can be a breakfast scotch if you try hard enough, but this one is actually suited for it.

For a rye from a basic bitch distillery, this lived up to the hype. Surprisingly smooth, and a delightful butterscotch aftertaste that paired wonderfully with a Cohiba Siglos II. At $34 a pop (in Quebec. Shut up.) I don't feel bad putting this in my flask. Four stars because it's Crown Royal that doesn't need a mixer.