(Download) "Under the Influence (Editor's Note)" by Shenandoah * Book PDF Kindle ePub Free
eBook details
- Title: Under the Influence (Editor's Note)
- Author : Shenandoah
- Release Date : January 22, 2008
- Genre: Language Arts & Disciplines,Books,Professional & Technical,Education,
- Pages : * pages
- Size : 49 KB
Description
Donald Johnston, one of the brothers who founded the distillery at Laphroaig a couple of centuries ago, is said to have drowned in a half-finished barrel of whiskey. History does not record whether or not he was forced under like the Duke of Clarence, but the manner of his undoing might be deemed an occupational hazard, considering the multiple stages of producing aud aging a single malt scotch. Although I would relish neither a full-immersion baptism in Laphroaig nor even the consumption of so much as half a bottle on a single evening, I am an admirer of its decidedly unusual flavor. And though it falls into the category of acquired tastes (along with oysters, sushi, marathon running, spy novels and lyric poems), this is one I recommend that whiskey lovers endeavor to acquire and cultivate. Laphroaig is an Islay scotch, usually twelve years in the making, though in 2005 the ten-year-old version was named the world's best single malt whiskey. The barley is dried over a peat fire, hand turned in the drying, and the result is 86 proof, refractivity golden, smoky and dangerous-tasting. My wife and I call it "The Frog," in part due to its name and in part because it has something of an amphibious aura, as if it comes to us from the threshold of two worlds, which is not merely metaphorical. The village of Laphroaig perches on the Atlantic coast of the Hebridean island of Islay, which is both earth-reeking and soggy. The rain and mist fall year-round onto the rocky, heathery hills and collect in moorland pools. The water then streams down into the corries, seeps though peat and follows the dictates of gravity until it enters Loch Kilbride (which sounds less ominous when you know that "kil" means "church). Once distilled over a peat fire, with salty sea air allowing the kilns to breathe, the elixir is aged in bourbon barrels, usually quarter casks, and is never chill-filtered. The result has a shadowy, wintry aroma, an oily texture, a sharp-going-sweet taste reminiscent of hillside heather then and a peculiar bite I can't describe any more precisely than to say it's a little skunky.