We all like to think we have impeccable taste, right?
I heard somewhere once that there are certain things that human beings are programmed to dislike (and no, not bloody brussel sprouts - and that is the last time you will hear me mention brussel sprouts in a negative manner they get a hell of a hard time at this time of year.)
I am meaning things like off milk and pure alcohol. Things that when we shut our eyes and clench our throats we can just about get down before our stomach sniggers, shakes its head and throws right back up again.
I work seasonally as a tour guide at a whisky distillery, its a grand job. I enjoy the cosy work place, meeting folk from all over the place and answering the same questions 12, 000, 006 times a day. In all seriousness I enjoy doing the tour, letting people know how (the royal we) create our whisky. The real fun though is the dram at the end. With the highland accent the warm jolly welcome the onus on the care and attention in each wee glass of the water of life, people are (intentionally?) tricked into thinking this thing they are about to swig back will give them a glow, give them a warm fuzzy feeling inside and make life good again. While all the above are in fact true - the reality, like most things, is harsher than what is sold.
The facial expressions explain it better than I ever could. Often I don't even get a chance to preach the best way to enjoy it before its been knocked back and the hand is outstretched waving the empty glass before the water jug, while the other covers then exposes the reeling mouth to reveal a gasping breath...
'watterrr please!'.
Don't they know that is NOT the intention of the jug of water on the bar?!
So I laugh and think of my own experience of the Water of Life. I genuinely enjoy the stuff. True, I've had my ups and downs with it (!) .
But such is life.
The whisky I work with is the Singleton of Glen Ord, a single malt whisky from the Highlands of Scotland... the brand is great, if not particularly depressing when I got dumped during the summer and was forced to preach the beauty of the Singleton.
'The Singleton is enjoyed best when it's alone'
'Take a bottle, £30 is a bargain really, a dram a night and it will stay on the shelf for a matter of YEARS!'
Pretty sad really when I was once a fairly happy little blend, the beginning and end of many happy days and nights. But the harsh realities of life are like the harsh realities of whisky - when it kicks you right in the back of the throat you pour yourself another immediately, add a drop of cool water or whatever you deem appropriate to improve the firey bastard and sip it slowly, making a conscious effort to enjoy every little drop.
Maybe that is why they call it the Water of Life, because it's a product of history, of antiquity and great care. As it gets older it mellows, it's not the eye watering, fiery spirit it was in its early years. But with age comes a complexity, it holds more character, more flavor, we trust it more, we treat it with a greater respect. There are many different types and styles of the water of Life. Some stay single forever, and they are super. Lots blend with many others of a different crop in their lifetime. They are popular world wide, usually enjoyed with a mixer ... or as the last one on the shelf.
The lucky ones though, the really tip top of the range, the rare un-aged product of one distillery - completely unique these only come along in special releases. They are made the same but they have lived their different lifetimes in different casks, sometimes in the same warehouse until through chance, divine intervention or one great nose they have been vatted together. They merge perfectly. They are enjoyed as one, the rarity that you have to have sublime taste to enjoy...
