Single malt whisky
(because it's time to live up to the teasers scattered around my website)
Ask any non-whisky drinker to name a really good whisky, single malt - not blended, and they will probably come up with Glenfiddich. Go to an average bar, and that's what you'll find on the shelf. Sniff it, and you'll know what cockroach poison smelled like in the communist Poland of 1975. I'm not kidding. Glenfiddich is not good enough to cook with, let alone drink it.
So, what do I like? Lagavulin is my first love, a somewhat rough introduction into the bed of single malts. Oban would have been a gentler teacher, sweeter on the tongue, more understanding. Lagavulin grabbed me by the hair and made me pay attention. Smoky in the extreme, its first kiss was arrogance itself before it suddenly melted into honey.
Laphroiag is my second choice. If blindfolded, I might initially confuse its touch for Lagavulin. The impression never lasts. Although excellent, Laphroiag is not as intense a lay in the long run.
I'll always say "yes please" to the unassuming innocence of Oban, Scapa or Dalwhinnie. They alre welcome to whisper sweet nothings into my throat all night.
Talisker and I are not compatible, though. It does offer a rough ride that rivals that of Lagavulin, but it lacks Lagavulin's caressing finesse. There is no sugar pot at the end of a mouthful of Talisker, and you'll have to tie me up to make me swallow it.