Last fall, for my birthday, I got a bottle of Westland Sherry Wood American Single Malt Whiskey. (Be legal before you click!)
I loved it, and before I knew it only two fingers were left in the bottle. They’ve lasted till today. I think it’s only fair I offer a quick review of this interesting beverage. My motive is largely selfish: I want to remember this one.
This whiskey isn’t like any Highland malt I’ve ever tasted (and my tastes run far and wide, currently dallying in Speyside). It’s not like Dewar’s White Label, which was Grandfather Hall’s favorite; or Four Roses, which mother’s mother loved. Nor is it an American bourbon, a rye, or anything else. It’s sui generis–something entirely new.
The nose gets a warm and loving wallop on a deep sniff: Molasses and spice, with a bourbon tease. First taste: cognac more than anything else. A little fiery on the tongue. A long sweet finish.
It’s a very interesting and original flavor.
Recommended for any time and any mood, but might be especially lovely in the fall, hinting at the clove and cinnamon flavors of the beautiful time of the year.
One could anoint a plum pudding with it, or marinate figs in it for a creative dessert. One could absolutely serve it neat or on ice, or in a Manhattan.
I’m thinking of a double jigger on ice with a slice of lemon.
Right now, I’m savoring the last drops in a fruit-juice glass, neat as can be.