Wow. I mean. Wow. It's like I'm wearing a cable-knit sweater, standing on the cliffs of Dover, and maybe I've grown a beard. Enya may be playing in the distance.
This stuff is great. I don't even know how to describe it. Clean? Precise? Is that oak or peat? A hint of sea air?
I first had it in a cigar bar but, in retrospect, this baby's way too delicate to be anywhere near a cigar.
These aren't original observations (read them in a review) but I do get them too: vanilla, honey, confectioners sugar, toasted marshmallow.
Me, I personally also get, whiskey-fied dry white wine, like a steel-y sauvignon blanc that, once upon a time, was redolent of green beans, herbs and limestone, now it's been turned into this magic whiskey.
My sister just moved to Galway. I'm going to see if she can buy me a barrel.
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