I'm a neat guy.
I like to start with a good hit of single malt. Then switch to Scoresby for the rest of night. I drink out of a stainless steel beaker and use a dilute Lemonade for a palate cleanser.
That step down is akin to falling off a cliff.
The Macallan, it sure-as-hell aint...
Shaman introduced me to Scoresby almost exactly 1 year ago. Curiously, it's not passed my lips since.
And speaking of The Macallan, whoda thunk the world of Scotch whiskey would need an equivalent to
THE Ohio State University?
FC
You just didn't deaden your taste buds enough. We'll have to continue your lessons. It's all a matter of discipline.
I used to have to visit the warehouses of the old Monsanto plant. They did a half-day on safety training. It was filled with warnings like: "If you smell something like fresh doughnuts, you're already dead." Scoresby is a lot like that. You just need to keep it coming until that golden honey taste comes through and then you know it's too late. I'm using THE Macallan until no more than 2nd stage separation and then switch to Scoresby for the Trans-Lunar Injection burn.
. . . and then I hear the laconic voice of Rocky Rabb intone: "You have a Go for Press to MECO."
I was relating this to my sons the other night. It was a full moon back in 2008. I'd nailed a nice 8-pointer at sundown and I had no one at camp to help. It took a long time to get it gutted and loaded in the S10 and I was quite spent when I hit the Thoughtful Spot, and poured myself my first one. TLI went smoothly, and I was in a nice parking orbit, bathed in moonlight when my phone rang. KYHillChick wanted to know if I was all right.
She had taken Angus to band practice, and missed my earlier call to tell her I was out. I regailed her with my story about the buck and then asked for the Cincinnati Caledonians for a request: Play Caber Feigh (The horns of the deer) It was their signature tune.
There I was, in a perfect orbit around the full moon of November with an entire Pipe and Drum band playing my request. It was mighty fine-- one of the highlights of my life. For some reason, I don't recall splashdown, but I woke up in bed the next morning with my mouth feeling like I'd been licking the heat shield and a 200 lb buck frozen solid in the freezer. It took until noon to thaw things out enough to get the hoist in and get him out. The processor was mighty amazed when I rolled in with a deer frozen in a solid rectangular block.
