whisky

WISER’S SPECIAL BLEND—Making Johnnie Walker its bitch

My Fellow Inebriates,

As exhilaratingly nasty as our last whisky tasting was, LBHQ isn’t big enough for a substance as raunchy as JOHNNIE WALKER RED LABEL. Our tastebuds aren’t sure whether to bother growing back until the bottle’s finished, but kudos to my dad for bringing home such a coarse, discordant palate-abuser.

The hell, you say. There’s no reason to laud such a purchase, is there?

Well, first of all, buying JOHNNIE WALKER RED isn’t the worst choice my dad’s ever made. Just last weekend, for example, he locked his car keys in the trunk of the car. Ka-ching, $60, and roadside assistance popped the mechanism (I had a vision of FOUR mickeys of crappy whisky floating away, all for naught).

Second, products like JOHNNIE WALKER RED serve admirably as tastebud resetters. By burning all your tastebuds off, they destroy the memory of what a good whisky tastes like, zeroing out your expectations (and in fact, my second glass of JOHNNIE WALKER RED was considerably more tolerable than the first). Effectively you get re-accustomed to cheap crap, which is good for your budget.

Third—and I could be totally wrong about this, so perhaps some neo-Darwinians out there will correct me—only the toughest tastebuds survive the bad-whisky assault, and after repeated assaults these hardy little meat-pixels dominate your tongue’s surface, where they not only welcome solvent-like booze but ask for more. Not only is this good for your budget; it also tricks you into thinking you’re enjoying your cheap crap.

Win-win-win.

The only downside about JOHNNIE WALKER RED is that it’s not as cheap as it could be. About $16 buys you 375 mL, but for $11.87 you could have WISER’S SPECIAL BLEND.

But wait, you say, I only just survived JOHNNIE WALKER RED. Surely WISER’S SPECIAL BLEND, at three-quarters its price, will be paint thinner itself.

Surprisingly not. Deep amber-gold, WISER’S SPECIAL BLEND opens up gently with a light grain aroma that develops quickly—wood, vanilla, and a hint of caramel. It spreads over the tongue with a warming, smooth oaky-caramel release, lingering with polite heat and a slight medicinal hint.

For a cheap whisky, WISER’S SPECIAL BLEND has a lot going on. Whereas many of its fellow Canadian whiskies fall short on character, WISER’S offers plenty of depth and layering, and enough balance to hit a wide range of whisky-drinking tastes. With its unexpected subtlety, and for the most reasonable dough possible, it makes JOHNNIE WALKER RED LABEL its bitch.

For sure, there are more complex whiskies out there, but you won’t find them in big-ass 1.75-L bottles with a mere $56 price tag. Which is about the cost of unlocking your trunk to retrieve your car keys. 😦

JOHNNIE WALKER RED LABEL—Get rough with yourself

The latest household excuse to drink is that it keeps us out of the snacks at night. Now that my parents are well into their forties, they have to think about spare tires and heart health. No longer can they hoover back a tub of Breyer’s—at least not without foraging for aspirin to take care of that pain shooting down their respective left arms. Far better to have a dram and call it a night.

What exactly is a dram? I thought I knew what a dram was—surely it’s a generous shot, or at least a shot, right?

OMG, it’s not!! A dram, defined in apothecary terms, is one sixteenth of an ounce, my fellow inebriates, 1.77 grams—a mere taste, my fellow inebriates, and absolutely inadequate for taking care of the DTs.

What we need is a wee dram. A wondrously fluid measurement, a wee dram refers to a taste of your favorite whisky, poured at your discretion. Ahhh! So a wee dram can refer to that very generous shot you pour yourself, or to that very parsimonious finger you might reluctantly pour for some douchebag. A wee dram can be a tipple, or it can get you totally wasted.

The one constant about the wee dram is that the whisky must be something nice.

So when we had a wee dram of JOHNNIE WALKER RED LABEL last night, we really didn’t. Because RED LABEL is decidedly not nice. And it wasn’t an actual dram, because when I pour a finger it’s more like a paw.

How did I get my paws on this wretched JOHNNIE WALKER RED? My dad had just put up a bunch of shelves in the garage and sorted out a whole bunch of documents to take to his accountant. He deserved some booze. And he thought I should actually review something instead of trawling for half-assed memes and dishing unsolicited advice about constipation and flatulence.

I had moderate hopes for JOHNNIE WALKER RED. It has a really bad bottom-shelf reputation despite not being the cheapest of the cheap. If only because JOHNNIE WALKER BLACK is so respectable, I thought RED LABEL would at least faintly echo that quality. Then again, there’s a reason brands like Johnnie Walker and Smirnoff diversify across price points—they don’t just court silky, moneyed palates; they want hobos, too, and bears who enjoy the company of both.

With its entrancing honey color, you can’t fault JOHNNIE WALKER RED LABEL until you’ve opened the bottle. Then you get a whiff of sweet malt, peat, alcohol, and floor cleaner. The body is solvent-like. I remember one time I thought we were never going to buy alcohol again and I started eyeing the Windex; I swirled the bottle around just to see if it had good legs and wondered whether it would really make me go blind. JOHNNIE WALKER RED LABEL is ever-so-slightly thinner, albeit more appealing.

On to the taste.

The palate can’t very well say it hasn’t been warned. This is going to be some rough shit. And it totally is, my fellow inebriates. Sharp, bitter alcohol and raunchy peat beset the palate, seconded by dirt and sourness. The burn is short and fiery, like being kicked in the kidneys or getting your fur waxed by a beauty-school trainee. This stuff is fuel, people. I totally loved it.

JOHNNIE WALKER RED LABEL demands ice to be drinkable. Enough ice to ensure that, no matter how slowly you sip (for the masochists out there), there will always be ice so you can tolerate it. You do not want the ice to melt. You do not want to properly taste RED LABEL.

And for the body-conscious, some good news: this shit will trash your palate. There’s no food you could possibly enjoy afterwards. Go to bed and let your tastebuds grow back, then have some more JOHNNIE WALKER RED LABEL in the morning. That’s what it’s made for.

ASTROLIQUOR for September 14-20—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

Aries, one of your peeps is jealous of you. Whether it’s your liquor cabinet, your life partner, or the way you sleep in all day, that envy will come to a boil this week. When you ease off the Malibu and realize your ex-chum is bad-mouthing you, you’re gonna freak. And Aries…as usual there is a bar fight in the offing. Don’t let it happen! Stay inside! Close the drapes! Drink more Malibu!

Taurus, your house is looking shabby. That couch you thought was so wicked cool way back when…those pastel walls…that shaggy carpet. It’s all been barfed on one too many times, and it’s rum-and-stomach-acid odour is so rank that not even your Jehovah’s Witness visitors care to stay and chat. Find a friend with good judgment, who’s not pissed on rum, to help you redecorate.

Not only are you a little psychologically uneven these days, Gemini, you’re bored. Time to find some excitement, and the stars are pointing either toward the bar scene or…the health club. (Sometimes the stars just like to hedge their bets.) The choice is a no-brainer—get yourself to the nearest pub and order a row of tequila shots. Behave obnoxiously until you’re no longer bored.

The stars call for heavy socializing this week, Cancer. You might even add to your friend list if you open your mind. Hell, why not open your booze shelves to the neighborhood and have a house-wrecker party? Open the door and scream, “Vanilla vodka!” and see if anyone comes running. Whoever does might end up sleeping in your bathtub, especially on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday.

Leo, you’ll meet someone with an unusual accent. Try not to be a douche. You sound pretty funny yourself when you’re burping up blackberry liqueur and rum. This is the opportunity to start a new friendship—possibly featuring a leather thong. Enjoy it until December when planet Mars goes apeshit in your relationship house and one of you takes out a restraining order. The good news is that a friend with flesh-eating disease is going to be okay.

Friendships become increasingly precious as we age, Virgo. Why not get in touch with an old friend or two? Especially if you severed contact suddenly or on bad terms, now’s the time to reconnect. For instance, what about your ex? The best approach is to fill up on a half-decent blended whiskey…say, six ounces with some soda and bitters…then pick up the phone. Yeah, do it!

Libra, if you’re in a helping profession, you can expect a great week. Everyone is so happy to see you; there’s not enough of you to go around. Perhaps you’re doing your job too well. After all, if your job description includes changing adult diapers, you don’t want to be too popular. Try incorporating gin and creme de menthe into your work day; it should help you avoid being specially requested.

Sometimes coworkers can be so critical, Scorpio, especially the ones who are gunning for you right now. Take a deep breath and ignore them. What are they going to do, report you? They don’t even have justification, do they? Doesn’t everyone (besides you) arrive at work with a Thermos of Purple Honker (yes! equal parts strawberry liqueur and Maui Blue Hawaiian schnapps with or without 7-up)? Don’t worry that your nitpicky colleagues might get you fired; you’ll win something next week.

Sagittarius, Irish whisky is the thief of time. You know you have a project begging your attention, and yet it’s so awesome to combine three parts Bushmill’s with two parts Bailey’s over ice in an old-fashioned glass. (Okay, so the stars are saying you need to tackle your project, that it will be rewarding, etc. But the stars are very far away.)

You don’t usually talk about your sexy time, Capricorn. But given enough dark rum, you’ll express all kinds of random preferences…Which will work out for you this week if you cross paths with an adventurous Virgo. Who knows what you’ll get up to…it will be very quick and messy though. Others will frown on it. Give them some dark rum and they will understand.

Aquarius, what is your job? Like, what do you do? Is it what you always thought you’d do? Usually it isn’t. And this week you realize you haven’t been following your heart. You won’t have time over the next three months to really figure this out, but that’s okay because you’ll have too much Goldschlager in your system to act on your conclusions. Yes, you can get drunk on that shit. You just need a strong stomach.

Pisces, change is on the horizon. Usually change (for you) involves a move (from home to jail, for example), the loss of routine (your job), or predation in the wild (other homeless people banging on your cardboard box). But this time it’s different. Your life is on a big uptick, Pisces! You have new maturity and new perspective, and Saturday may even introduce a new romantic interest. Yay! If only you had some booze, but the stars are saying no this week. Stupid stars.