In a 239 sq. mile patch of land in Scotland there resides a set of alchemists turning the very dirt they live on into gold. Wizards from the lands of Laphroaig, Ardbeg, Lagavulin and Bruichladdich. Each one enchanting an audience that stretches across the world. How barley, water, earth and time spent in barrels can create such a spectrum of flavors and textures is beyond me. If you are a fan of peated whisk(e)y, and because you are here reading this I will assume you are, you have no doubt had many peated drams. There is also little doubt that you don’t have one that you feel is better than every other bottle you have tried. Unseating a champion is hard work but every now and then a spirit comes along that not only challenges the king of your world but also makes you reevaluate every other grade you have given to every other whisk(e)y. This is that bottle. I did not think there could be anything better than some of the best peated scotches I have had. There was no room at the top. This made room. This came crashing down on top and completely readjusted every bottle below it. If you happen across one of these bottles please do not buy it. Send me the link to where you found it so that I may obtain one more bottle. But I understand that greediness creeps into everyone’s life and if you do purchase it without telling me I will forgive you because I know that your whole world is about to make no sense. You will be just as confused as I was and then you will understand my plight of needing to locate and procure every bottle of Octomore 7.3 that you can get your hands on. Slàinte!