Whisky Leech

I've had the idea for this particularly night of amber alchemy for months now, the bottles have been sitting on top of my speakers for just as long, and for some reason it's taken me this long to get around to drinking 'em. I'm almost ashamed of myself. Yeah, you read that right, I'm ashamed because I'm not ENOUGH of a drunken useless wreck.

I bought these four miniatures all the way back in summer last year from one of Glasgow's whisky specialist shops, while out hunting for a bottle of Makers Mark at a price that wouldn't bankrupt me.

I don't pretend to actually KNOW anything about whisky, except that I really like it, and that it keeps my voice in good (for that read 'broken, hoarse and scratchy') shape. Therefore, my purchasing decisions were based on aesthetics alone. Yeah, I'm the kind of shallow cunt that fancy packaging was made for. I liked the labels of three of the bottles, and the tiny bottle of Dalmore was an impulse buy due to it's status as the smallest bottle of whisky in the world.

I may as well start with the Dalmore, as there's not really enough in there to 'appreciate the taste' once I've worked my way through the other bottles and gotten slightly sloppy in my judgement. Here's a picture to give you an idea of just how tiny this bottle is:

So when poured, or rather, dripped into my glass, the amount of whisky barely even covers the surface of the bottom of the glass. When I tried to carefully sip it, I drank the whole damn bottle in less than a sip. Hmmm. Definitely more of a novelty item than something bought for the actual contents. It was a pretty standard single malt, not as dry as most that i've tried, I'd really need to slug back a decent sized glass to get a real idea though.

Next I'll try... the Sheep Dip. Sniffing this before tasting is a weird one, it has a real grassy smell, y'know, like actual freshly cut grass. Maybe it's just my screwy sense of smell, but I'm kinda hesitant to try a whisky that might aggravate my hayfever, as opposed to make my eyes water with the flare of burning nostrils. Ah well, here goes nothin'!
...There it is! The smell is goddamn deceptive, this definitely has a good warm kick to it. Again, not very different to most other scotch single malts, but my inability to taste any huge difference is probably down to my own philistine tastebuds, rather than any fault on the part of whisky itself.
Hmmm... the more I have of this, the smoother it goes down. I know, I know, fuckin' duh, right? But I've had nowhere near enough to dull my senses. Not yet, anyway.

My mistrust of green-bottled alchohol is a mystery even to myself, but still, it's with a slight sense of foreboding that I break the seal of the terribly-titled 'Black Bottle'. Come on, you can fucking SEE it's not really a black bottle! Fucks sake.
Anyhow, yet again the odour of the booze is absolutely NO clue as to how it might taste. I kinda like the warning sign when you raise a glass to your lips, that tingle you feel, the need to close your eyes and brace for contact. Upon first sip this definitely has more of that familiar warmth, and a slight sting in it's tail. Definitely better than I expected, considering the secondary-colour involved in it's packaging.
A few sips later, I still dig it. Damn good whisky!

Last, but... well, I don't know if it's least, I ain't tried it yet. That good ol' warmth in my throat might be slightly affecting my brain by this point. Just slightly.
I bought this bottle, Bailie Nicol Jarvie, mainly because it resembles like... some sort of medical label, it's far from your stereotypical whisky bottle in appearance at least, it looks almost like something you would find on an apothecaries' shelf. Which as regular readers may notice, fulfils my traditional 'refer to something medieval or historical within every fucking post' quotient.
Anyway, I'm actually pretty excited to try this one, if only to see if it fulfils the high hopes this packaging nerd has placed upon it. Moment of truth...

Oh fuck yes! One of the rare occaisions in life where my built-up hopes are not dashed all to hell. This totally lives up to ...well, the self-imposed hype.
It has it all, the sting as it touches my lips, the smooth warmth when swallowed, a real... would firey be a word you'd use to describe whisky? Fuck it, I'm gonna go with firey. If I can get a decent sized bottle of this, I'll be a very happy man.

Because I'm a fucking wimp, I've not finished any of these bottles, not tonight at least, but I think the Bailie Nicol Jarvie may not last much longer... definitely a new favourite.

Warning: drinking too much whisky makes your voice sound like this...