Whisky Tasting

I've never liked whisky.

In the last couple of years, G has developed a taste for. Anto is quite partial to it, and my aunt loves it -- as do most Venezuelans, generally speaking. I've started to feel a little left out, like I've been excluded from some big inside joke.

I have tried to give it a chance. I'm more of wine drinker, though, and on a couple of occasions I made the mistake of approaching whiskies in the same way you'd approach wine -- inhaling deeply simultaneous to taking a sip. Bad idea. I learned quickly that it's best to sniff and sip separately -- and to take small sips at that -- lest I be overwhelmed by pure alcohol assaulting my nostrils and taste buds. I started taking tiny sips of G's whenever he happens to have a glass. I mean really tiny. The type of sip a parent might give their kid when they beg to try whatever alcoholic beverage the parent might be drinking. I'd gotten to the point where I could take a sip without gagging. I've gotten to the point that I can sense flavors beyond just pure alcohol.

Now you might ask, why do you care? If you don't it, you just don't like it. Who cares! I honestly don't know. I often have this tendency to need to challenge myself when I don't like something. It's the reason I now love olives, mangoes, and . . . All things I previously didn't care for. It's why I hold out hope that I might someday like watermelon. (Yeah, I know it's weird that I don't like watermelon.) I think this is also related to the reason I continue to masochistically expose myself to heights in hope that I'll get over the vertigo and just learn to love the thrill. Tastes change and how will you know if yours have if you don't check back in?

This past Tuesday one of the student groups at the B-school hosted a Whisky tasting. G, obviously wanted to go. Me and my odd brand of masochism were intrigued and I asked G to take me along with him.

I do not regret it. First of all, they set all this up in a student lounge -- but a student lounge with an amazing panoramic view. It was really informative. The guy who lead the tasting -- a student named Jeff, who was previously a brand manager for a whisky company -- gave a really good presentation. Now I know that whisky come from Scotland, whereas whiskey comes from Ireland and the U.S. (Although Wikipedia says whisky can also come from Canada and Japan.) He explained the distillation process and went over the various ways different whiskies get their character.)

Since I've rarely had more than few sips at a time, I've obviously never had a bunch of bottles. back to back. That would also usually be way more expensive than would be worthwhile to me.
He lead through various Scottish whiskies -- mostly Scotch and a couple of blends. As with developing a wine palate, I was surprised that I was quickly sensing different flavors.

There was no retching. There was even one I kind of liked -- Cragganmore. There was also another one, with much bolder flavors, I could myself liking if I ever developed the palate for it -- Talisker. (That was G's favorite.) Maybe I'll try ordering a whisky-based drink sometime. . . once we go back to the States and spirits aren't insanely expensive.

I may never love the stuff, but I feel like I might just be starting to get it. That's really all I wanted.




Small side note. If you read my last post --- Mom --- whisky tasting perhaps does not qualify as laying low. Maybe laying lower than usual is more correct.