Cask & Still Issue 6

A horrible thing recently happened to me on the way to the bottle bank at our local cowp. As I threw assorted glassware into the bin to be recycled, I started coming across numerous empty bottles whose contents I couldn’t remember having consumed.
Nothing particularly surprising there, you might think, but these were particularly fancy miniatures that I’d been saving for a rainy day. There were some amazing drams there, including a 1967 Strathisla for which I had big plans. I was, as you can imagine, one part bemused, three parts volcanically unamused.
The culprit, it turns out, was my youngest son. It’s always been a blessing that on their regular ‘gatherings’ at my house, my three children and their friends have shown zero interest in whisky.
Everything else, from beer and wine to all spirits, has to be moved or put under lock and key, but my whisky was always safe. No longer. Now the wee yin has a girlfriend who likes whisky and my world’s been turned upside down. I have, however, come up with a cunning solution. I was recently given a whisky so egregrious that I (momentarily) considered pouring it down the sink.
Instead, I’ve donated it to the young scallywag and his belle, ridding me of my conundrum and hopefully his new-found taste for whisky. A rare win-win I’d say.

EDITOR Richard Bath