Fire and Rye

February 24, 2009 7:28 am

On a chilly winter night, after trudging through the frigid NYC streets and biting winds blowing off the Hudson, I am looking forward to meeting my Dad for a drink.

I guess we grow to appreciate our parents more as adults (unlike when I was 14, demanding to be dropped off a block away from my destination because God forbid it would be known to my friends that I had parents!) Now, as I reminisce, I find it difficult to envision anything more enjoyable than hanging out with Daddy and sipping a superb Single Barrel Whiskey.

A favorite is Black Maple Hill, Limited Edition 18 Year Rye, Charred White Oak Cask--each bottle is hand written from the cask it was birthed from. He only saves it for special guests (approximately 300 cases are made), but being his daughter moves me right up the V.I,P. List and he generously pours me a glass.

I take the rocks glass in both of my ice cold hands and inhale a strong aroma of fresh cut lumber. This takes me back to being a kid and accompanying Daddy to the lumber yard to procure wood for whatever weekend project he had dreamt up and for a moment I just smile. Further examination reveals just a hint of something sweet. Honeysuckle, perhaps? Whatever it is awakens my "inner geek" and suddenly find I am immersed in analyzing this marvelous specimen. The texture is surprisingly delicate. Notes of orchard fruit and wood linger on the palate; it has an unexpectedly super smooth finish.

At 95 proof however it doesn't take long for the analyzing to turn into philosophizing and I find we are politely debating and sometimes even agreeing on every topic from religion to politics. Not quite a Norman Rockwell painting, but with a roaring fire and an eighty-five pound Chow Chow resting at my feet I think it is pretty darn close.

CJ Lester

� Written by CJ Lester

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