How wonderful it has been to drink whisky these past few weeks, to mark the passing of another day of good health with a palliative dram that calms the mind and pulls one’s focus to the simple sensory pleasures of the glass at hand. To open the rainy day bottles, just in case it’s now or never. And most importantly to feel part of a worldwide community that brings together strangers who would never have crossed paths were it not for a deeply geeky appreciation of the serendipitous interactions of barley, yeast and water that some people in Scotland or elsewhere stuck in a wooden barrel many years ago. So cheers to that and to all of you. The community of whisky drinkers has been on my mind recently because the highlight of my quarantine has been the weekly virtual tastings organized by my local whisky club. While such online events have quickly become a common feature of the lockdown, our local leader has outdone himself by rounding up jaw-dropping line ups of bottles and getting samples safely into the hands of members. But the quality of the whisky has proven to be less important than the opportunity to connect socially on Zoom, exchange tasting notes and peek into each other’s quarantine chambers. So the fact that my ratings for our recent Laphroaig tasting may look ungratefully low is besides the point. These were whiskies that I might never taste at the best of times, and to do it under such circumstances in what approximates for a social gathering right now is an experience I wouldn’t trade for a bottle of rare Macallan. This 25-year-old was my favorite of the bunch. The version I tried was matured in a mix of ex-bourbon and ex-oloroso sherry casks and bottled in 2019 at cask strength of 51.4%. The nose is spearmint, heather and white pepper, with a hint of banana. In the mouth, it’s fruity, a side of Laphroaig that I really love. We’re talking tropical, with notes of guava and papaya. The finish is long with an aftertaste of burnt brisket. Sounds good, right? Yet it didn’t really come together for me. The differences between the nose, palate and finish made it hard to fully engage with the whisky and slide into the transcendental experience one might get from a more integrated profile. As such, this is a bottle worth sharing rather than owning, and right now there’s nothing wrong with that.