Yesterday, at the end of a test run for the Prohibition tour, we found ourselves at Tomo’s bar, where I plan to finish every tour with a tasting of Glenfarclas 10. Everyone had already dispersed, and it was just Tanny, my beloved, and me, absorbing the feelings of this new experience. I was very nervous before the tour, but the tour itself was simply fun and flowed smoothly—two hours of stories and tastings. We sat down, experiencing a massive drop in tension. We finished sipping the Glenfarclas, and Tanny asked Tomo what his favorite from the bar’s insane selection (1400 bottles) was. He thought and thought, then went and pulled out a bottle, pouring it without showing us what it was.

“Try it and tell me,” he said.

I laughed, “There’s no way I can identify it.”

“Just try,” he asked. “Even just the region.”

I sipped. It was gentle, not elegant but gentle. A sweet, caramel scent, but the taste was a different kind of sweet, like gummy candies or the sugar around licorice. A medium sweet aftertaste. No bitterness. I really liked it! Highlands? Speyside? We pondered and pondered. Meanwhile, I told Tomo about Gil Firth, who would probably nail it in 10 seconds.

“What was it?”

The answer was in the picture—Cutty Sark. Then I remembered that Eldad De-Medonsa had given me a blind tasting of this at the United lounge on the way to the Whisky Show. And I loved it then too!

Tomo told us how rare the bottle was and that once, long ago, it was considered as desirable as Macallan is today.

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