Bowmore 18 Year

DISTILLER-SCORE SHOWDOWN: 96-POINT DISTILLER-RATED WHISKIES COMPASS BOX HEDONISM BOWMORE 18-YEAR LAPHROAIG 10-YEAR LAPHROAIG 15-YEAR 200TH ANNIVERSARY LAGAVULIN DISTILLER’S EDITION TALISKER 10-YEAR (Caveat lector: somewhat unexpectedly, this became a long-form review.) In my never-ending quest to educate my own palate and attempt to both explore the aesthetics of whisk(e)y and quantify qualitative scoring, I’ve been thinking about different Showdown possibilities. For this one, I decided to rank my collection by the Distiller “expert” score in descending order (@distiller, @stephaniemoreno, why am I able to do this on the app, but not on the website?), and start from there. Currently, I have one 97-point bottle (the Compass Box, which met its emptiness at this tasting), and five 96-pointers, so I grouped them all together. As a result, this Showdown (and others like it that I plan to do in the future) will usually not be an apples-to-apples comparison: first, there are different reviewers providing the official Distiller scores. Second, the scores are given irrespective of type: in this current grouping, all are Scotch whiskies: the Compass Box is a blended grain whisky, and the other five are single malts, and (coincidentally?) happen to be Islay. But as I continue doing this type of Showdown, a group might include Irish and Japanese whiskey, American bourbon, Scotch whisky, and the like. How do high scores stack up against one another as far as different types of whiskies are concerned? A thoughtful tasting of six whiskies is no small challenge. From a combinatorial perspective, this is an “n-choose-k” problem. To simply compare two whiskies side-by-side in a set of six, there are 15 possible combinations. Choosing three from six results in 20 different combinations. Suffice to say, the empirical analysis (or ”work”) behind this Showdown will surely take a few days (I’m aiming for three). I plan to sample three whiskies on consecutive nights, with brief notes on each, and then all six on the final night. Very small pours, I assure you. Let’s get started. COMPASS BOX HEDONISM Pale straw color (Pantone 121); clearly no added coloring. Fruity nose with papaya, a little grapefruit, and tangerines, as well as marzipan, a little tanginess, and vanilla. The mouthfeel shows gobs of glycerin, and oaky vanilla notes become predominant on the palate. There’s the tiniest pinch of white pepper on the back end, and then the finish is more vanilla, with some of that woody tannic bitterness I noticed on my last review. If “hedonism” is just another word for “vanilla bomb,” then Compass Box Hedonism nails it. And in case you couldn’t ferret that out, fear not: the words “RICH—VANILLA—ALLURING” shout it out to you in ALL CAPS right on the front label. This vanilla is exacerbated when tasted following any of the other whiskies in this Showdown. Per my review on 10/11/23, 30% of this whisky is 20 years old, and over 9% is 26 years old, all from first-fill bourbon casks, so the vanilla is perhaps unsurprising given the long wood contact. This Compass Box expression can be found for ~$120. Would I buy it again? No. 2.5 on the Distiller scale (unchanged from my 11/11/23 review). 43% ABV. Non chill filtered. No added coloring. Series MMXVI-C. BOWMORE 18-YEAR Color is a clear russet mahogany (Pantone 153). Nose shows the sherry influence with dates, rugelach, brown sugar, and cocoa over a foundation of more typical Islay peat, smoke, iodine, salt, band-aid, and seaweed. These same sweet and savory notes continue on the palate, with well-integrated alcohol (not difficult considering the hoi polloi 43% ABV). The medium-length finish continues with a straightforward version of the same sweet and savory elements. Bowmore 18 competes with (and compares to) other sherry-cask-finished Islay scotches like Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition and Ardbeg Uigeadail. But the Lagavulin DE has the B18 beat on the sweet and the peat, and while the Oogie lacks an age statement, it’s in a completely different league in terms of power and complexity, offering a richer, more satisfying experience than the B18. But wait, you might say: what if I prefer less-ostentatious, more gentle whiskies rather than cask strength ones? There’s a difference between a whisky that is elegant and refined versus one which has a not-dissimilar gentleness but lacks complexity. The Laphroaig 15-year 200th Anniversary Edition is an exemplar of the former, whereas the Bowmore 18 is part of the latter group. It’s not a powerful whisky, which is a matter of preference, but it lacks the elegance and complexity of the L15. And you might say: “But the L15 is a special release; it’s not the same thing.” To which I’d reply: “exactly.” And that’s the point. They are scored at 96 points. Ultimately it begs the question: why? I’d certainly drink the Bowmore 18 again, but in my collection, there’s little reason for me to think “Hmm, I think I’ll have that Bowmore 18 tonight” given so many other choices. I do not mean that in a haughty way. But when one has worked their way through literally hundreds of different whiskies—including many in side-by-side Showdown format—the interesting ones become apparent, especially when price is considered. B18 can be purchased for around $150. It’s nice, but not “special” nice. Not 96-point nice. I’m happy to have had a bottle for empirical purposes, but would I buy it again? No. 3.5 on the Distiller scale (up from 3.0 on my 10/3/23 review). 43% ABV. 18-year age statement. Chill-filtered. Coloring added (E150a). LAPHROAIG 10-YEAR Clear and non-adulterated straw color (Pantone 143). Nose shows peat smoke, kelp, iodine, Band Aid, bacon fat, sage, fresh figs, white pepper, apple, speck, and orange marmalade. The palate has a fig and honeyed sweetness, and if you didn’t know better you’d swear that you’d have just licked the slicked seasoning of a cast-iron griddle after years of service. Mild alcohol given the cornucopia of flavors (this needs a higher proof, and the Cask Strength version delivers on that point), and the finish is long with some light fruity elements and both peat smoke and ash. Laphroaig 10 is an iconic Islay whiskey that is readily available for around $50. While the “burning hospital” flavor profile can be somewhat polarizing, this is one of the most complex whiskies out there and represents one of the best values in all of whiskyland. Would I buy it again? Damn right I would. 4.5 on the Distiller scale (up from 4.25 on my 11/17/23 review). Somewhat tangentially: how is it that Laphroaig 10, as good as it is, is ranked by Distiller two to four points higher than various numbered batches of its Cask Strength older brother, which is a purer and inherently more complex form of the junior version? This is in part a rhetorical questions, but it is a question worth asking. I poured some Cask Strength Batch 13 to compare, and if Laphroaig is 96 points, then the Cask Strength should be eve higher. 43% ABV. 10-year age statement. Coloring added (E150a). LAPHROAIG 15-YEAR 200TH ANNIVERSARY Bright amber (Pantone 123). Nose shows cocoa powder, honey, gardenia, apple crumble, gentle peat, scones with strawberry jam, iodine, kombu, nori, damp cardboard box, smoke. On the palate, it’s light on its feet, with some of the same honeyed sweetness from the nose, followed by white pepper, salt, copious ash, and lingering smoked meat on the finish. L15 is sophisticated, graceful, and wonderfully complex. Because of its scarcity as a limited release, online prices now range from $500 to $1,000. Would I buy it again? Yes, at the price I originally paid (a little more than $100, if memory serves). I’m fortunate (and happy) to have it. 4.5 on the Distiller scale (unchanged from my 11/17/23 review). 43% ABV. 15-year age statement. Coloring added (E150a). LAGAVULIN DISTILLER’S EDITION Deep orange amber (Pantone 139), darker than the L15. Dates, raisins, prunes, banana baby food, Frangelico, milk chocolate, and a whiff of vanilla on the nose, all covering the typical Lag16 kelp and iodine notes, as well as some Sharpie, like a thin blanket—the Lag16 typicity is there, but underneath the covers. The palate greets you with a hit of brown-sugar simple syrup, and then the blanket is removed, revealing classic Lag16 notes of kelp, iodine, and smoke. Some white pepper, brief brown sugar, and lingering smoke on the finish. From nose to finish, LDE moves from sweet to peat. This is a far more sophisticated and elegant example of marrying Islay malts with sherry casks than either Bowmore 18 or Ardbeg’s Uigeadail (not part of this tasting due to its Distiller score, but I did pour a tiny bit for comparative purposes). Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition can be had for around $110. Would I buy it again? Yes. 4.25 on the Distiller scale (down from 4.5 on my 7/29/22 review). 43% ABV. 16-year age statement. Batch lgv. 4/507. Coloring added (E150a). TALISKER 10-YEAR Clear burnt orange amber (Pantone 138). Cotton-candy-like sweetness. Grape Kool-Aid drink mix. Powdered cocoa. Apple pie and a little smoke. Smoky peat and BBQ sauce. Oily mouthfeel; more viscous than the L15 and LDE. Honey and concentrated pear extract on the palate. White pepper, honeyed biscuits (American, not English), brown-sugared oatmeal, and smoky peat on the finish. Talisker 10 has always been one of my favorite Scotch whiskies. That opinion is reinforced here. It’s more powerful and more youthful than any of the whiskies to this point—yet despite its relative youth, still very complex. Talisker 10 can be purchased for around $65. Would I buy it again? Yes. I don’t have a choice. Incredible value. 4.25 on the Distiller scale (up from 4.0 on my 10/11/23 review). 45.8% ABV. 10-year age statement. Coloring added (E150a). E150a RANT I’m beginning to learn more about E150a, which is caramel coloring that distillers often add to whisky to enhance appearance (see https://whiskipedia.com/fundamentals/spirit-caramel). There is zero—zero—reason why an ostensibly high-end whisky with an age statement should have artificial coloring. On a prior review of Bowmore 18 (10/3/23), I wrote: “the added coloring is for all intents and purposes lying. What is the point? What is there to hide? What is the rationale?” None of these whiskies are bottom-shelf. Their target market is the whisky connoisseur. Tradition and simplicity and rules are what make Scotch whisky what it is: it is made from only cereal grains, water, and yeast; must be matured at least 3 years in oak casks; etc. (specifics: https://www.scotch-whisky.org.uk/insights/protecting-scotch-whisky/legal-protection-in-the-uk/). Neither extra flavoring nor sweetening is allowed. Why then is coloring? If a whisky is dark (like Edradour 10, which uses no coloring), I want to know that it’s dark because of the natural cask maturation process—NOT because it’s being “faked.” Germany requires full ingredient disclosure for whisky sold there, including whether or not E150a is added. So you can go to a site such as https://www.scoma.de (there is an option to select German or English, but there’s no reason to select English if you don’t know German because the disclosure language is in German); type in a whisky like “Lagavulin”; select the “Produktdetails” (German) or “Product Details” (English), and then the German “Farbstoff” or the English “Coloring”, and then you’ll see (in German, regardless of what language is selected) if coloring is added or not. “Yes” is ” Ja, Zuckerkulör E150a”, and “No” is “Nein.” I believe strongly that serious consumers of high-end whisky want the truth—that is, what is “real.” Springbank whiskies are typically of a light color. Why? Because they do not use coloring. And no serious whisky lover rejects them on that basis. Compass Box also sells expensive whisky that has no added coloring, and no one rejects them on that basis. Why do Bowmore (the 18 is fairly dark) and Laphroaig (less so) and Lagavulin add color in varying degrees? It’s fraudulent. And from an economic perspective: one less ingredient is one less cost. Why are these distillers trying to pull the wool over our eyes? If there’s still one reader who has made it this far, weigh in in the comments! CONCLUSION What’s in a rating? Goodness or beauty or merit are each in the eye of the beholder—to an extent. No scoring system or methodology is perfect; however, many if not most can be improved. For example: Distiller uses something akin to a 0-100 scale for its official scores, whereas users are restricted to zero to five in quarter-point increments, and while the community score can get more granular when averaged across numerous users, it is still not aligned with the Distiller score, and should be (@distiller @stephaniemoreno there’s no reason to have two different scoring systems here). Further, for either system: what’s the rationale and methodology? Most 0-100 scales, like school grades, are inflated; in practice, they typically range from perhaps 60 to 100 (meanwhile, Distiller users do employ the entire range of its separate rating system). And in either system, how are the rankings comprised? There are numerous ways it could be done: 33% for nose, 33% for palate, 33% for finish; or adding something for relative value, etc. While this may sound constricting, it’s superior to the chaos of allowing anyone to do it however they want. The benefit of imposing some structure is that while some will ignore it, others would embrace it, which would facilitate better apples-to-apples comparisons. This isn’t a pedantic point. In this Showdown, two whiskies are outliers relative to the others: the Compass Box Hedonism and the Bowmore 18. The Compass Box is monolithic by its own admission (VANILLA shouted on the label), and I concur. It’s not that the whisky is bad in and of itself. But one-dimensional whisky, or nearly so—especially expensive one-dimensional whisky—isn’t worthy of 96 points. Aside from the quite-old whisky in the blend, there isn’t anything to justify its super-premium price. John Glaser is to be admired for his transparency; the disclosure of the specifics of the blend is amazing, and this forthrightness should be an example for all producers. The same goes for the fact that there’s no added caramel coloring (E150a). But that doesn’t change the way the whisky drinks. The Bowmore 18 is more egregious that the others in this Showdown with its darker artificial coloring. There are better, and cheaper, whiskies in the same style; there’s no “must-have” aspect for a whisky that is rated 96 points by Distiller and retails for $150. The others are exceptional for different reasons. The Laphroaig 10 represents tremendous value for its “burning hospital meets beehive” complexity at a $50 price tag. The Laphroaig 15 200th Anniversary Edition is a fine exemplar of restraint and grace—not simplicity—with the added benefit of a 15-year age statement. The Lagavulin Distiller’s Edition strikes the sweet/peat balance better than the Bowmore 18, with a sophistication above another offering in that same space—Ardbeg Uigeadail (which was sampled in this tasting for comparison, but not reviewed because while I do own it, it is not scored 96 or better by Distiller). And finally, the Talisker 10 also represents tremendous value for a youthful, more powerful Islay that has both sweet and peat characteristics that attack your senses, offering intellectual and hedonistic pleasure. These four are winners in this Showdown for different reasons, and are worthy of a high Distiller score. All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass. (N.B.: This review in its entirety is posted for each of the whiskies that are tasted, for the purpose of comparison and context; the reviews are in the same order that the whiskies are listed in at the top.)

AGED WHISKY SHOWDOWN Bowmore 18 Highland Park 19 Dimensions (Duncan Taylor) Balvenie Portwood 21 Kirkland Speyside Single Malt 22 (Alexander Murray) Continuing to work through bottles in my collection that I’ve yet to review. This grouping is admittedly somewhat incongruous, with Islay (Bowmore), Highland (Highland Park), and two Speysides (Balvenie, Kirkland). The common denominator is the age statements, which range from 18 to 22 years. As with previous “Showdowns,” the point here isn’t to necessarily declare an absolute winner (though one may arise), but rather to experience an interesting comparison and share those results. I’ve arranged these from youngest to oldest. Bowmore 18 Color is second darkest of the group, and virtually identical to the Balvenie 21: clear Pantone 153. Nose shows banana bread, and some mild Islay typicity with light iodine, saline, and gentle peaty smoke. The palate shows the slightest bit of roundness but the fruit drops off and a little white pepper spice kicks in. Something akin to passionfruit begins the medium-length finish, which is then usurped by some light char and smoke, but the overall effect is thin; almost watery. Unfortunately, Bowmore 18 has caramel coloring added. I really have no idea why any distillery would want to do this. It detracts from the overall experience: burning peat to malt the barley is as old-school as Scotch whisky gets. This is an 18-year-old whisky, which cannot be faked: why adulterate the age, tradition, and experience with adding coloring? It boggles the mind. Bowmore 18 can be found for around $150 today. It’s certainly not off-putting, but it’s also not particularly memorable, and the added coloring is for all intents and purposes lying. What is the point? What is there to hide? What is the rationale? Would I buy it again? No: on both a price/value basis and disdain for their coloring practice. 3.0 on the Distiller scale. 43% ABV. Highland Park 19 Dimensions (Duncan Taylor) This whisky is the lightest of the group in color, and appears analogous to Pantone 130. The nose is a bit reticent, begrudgingly offering up apples, honey, apricots, a cool eucalyptus note, and a medicinal quality that is likely ethanol-driven; the effect is not dissimilar to the Hall’s honey-lemon cough-drop aromatics that I get from Nikka Coffey Malt Whisky (reviewed Sep 21, 2023). But then cocoa makes an appearance. The palate turns up the volume considerably on the initial aromatics, and shows some viscosity. The transition from palate to finish brings generous spiciness, coffee, the cocoa again, and very gentle, lingering smoke. The Highland Park 19 Dimensions is a whisky that requires time in order to coax out its complexities. The bottle was a very generous gift from a good friend, so the question is not whether I’d buy it again, but rather if I’d buy it at all. It can be purchased for around $225—if you can find it. I’d put it in the nice-to-have rather than must-have category (with the caveat that there really is no “must” regarding any whisk(e)y in the grand scheme of things). It’s wonderful if you’re price-insensitive, and I’m very grateful to have it. I no longer possess any Highland Park 18, which would be an obvious (and interesting) comparison. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 52.7% ABV. Non-chill filtered. Distilled 6/1999; bottled 6/2018. Cask # 501104; Bottle # 236/352. The light color suggests no added coloring. Balvenie Portwood 21 Clear Pantone 153 in color; indistinguishable from the Bowmore 18. The nose is cautious, and like Carl Sandberg’s “Fog,” comes in on little cat feet, displaying a feline oscillation that wavers between port and deep chocolate—just because it wants to—and adds mocha, sandalwood, and honey. The palate is a slow roll into more chocolate, which nearly conceals the alcohol; there’s no real spice in the transition from palate to finish, which is long and chocolaty. Did I mention chocolate? For me, Balvenie is a traditional benchmark whisky with a modern twist—that twist being the various wood finishes it employs (rum, sherry, port). It combines tradition and modernity in a style that favors tradition in terms of its poise and refinement. It exhibits a confidence that has no need for self-aggrandizement. The Portwood 21 is consistent with that Balvenie ethos. This whisky is not cheap, and can currently be purchased for around $300. Would I buy it again? I paid significantly less when I bought it, but if price were not an issue, the answer is yes (to be clear, I would not buy every whisk(e)y, even with unlimited funds). Balvenie Portwood 21 is wonderfully cerebral, in part because it’s a little monochromatic in its chocolatiness, and it requires some thinking if you want to dissect it. Or, you can just enjoy the chocolate milkshake. 4.0 on the Distiller scale. 43% ABV. Kirkland Speyside Single Malt 22 (Alexander Murray) This whisky is the darkest of the bunch, consistent with the sherry cask finishing; clear Pantone 160. No-doubt sherry nose: toffee, chocolate, dates, strawberry preserves, and dark gingerbread (the bread, not the cookies). Cracker Jack times two. The palate shows wonderful intensity, finishing long and sweet, with chocolate, peanut brittle, and a pleasant touch of sweet café Cubano, with its basso continuo espresso bitterness. Costco is the largest liquor retailer in the world, and as a result has the wherewithal to affix its Kirkland brand to high-quality white-label offerings, as is the case here. Purists may want to turn up their collective noses, but there’s no arguing the value aspect. Who knows how Alexander Murray sourced this? But the fact that it is sourced doesn’t necessarily mean that it didn’t make the cut for whoever the distiller is, and even if that is the case, the point is moot: how many very nice 22-year-old whiskies are you going to find for $80? One. This one. Would I buy it again? I don’t think that this expression is available any longer, but I bought two when I purchased them, and this one is bottle #1. So, yes. Unbelievable value. 4.25 on the Distiller scale. 46% ABV. In terms of price, the Kirkland (Costco) stole the show with its 22-year age statement and $80 price tag. The Highland Park and Balvenie bottlings were each wonderful, for different reasons. The Bowmore was demonstrably inferior to the other three—independent of its “islay-ness” (I adore Laphroaig and Lagavullin). I concluded the tasting with one final single taste of each one in quick succession, and confirmed by more lengthy assessments. The Bowmore is unchanged; the Highland Park is by far the most powerful and youthful; the Balvenie is expansive and orgasmic; and the Kirkland is still very, very good. N.B.: All spirits tasted neat in a Glencairn glass.

Beautiful, heavy legs in the glass after a twirl, and just the start of lace when left alone for 10 minutes. It does the job of looking like something I'll want to drink. Nose is rich and inviting, but I have to work for it. After a lot of time in the glass and a lot of trips to the nose, the generalized "I like this, it smells yummy" finally resolves into identifiable parts. First there's dark cocoa powder and Bing cherries, then a transition to a slightly dirty oolong tea and moss covered sea rocks. Worth the effort, and I'm glad I didn't get impatient and move too quickly to the taste. And about that taste - the nose intimates you'll need to take your time with this and the palate confirms the directive. First taste is rich, creamy and slightly oily, but not mouth-coating. Dark treacle, roasted walnuts, toasted milk bread with a light dusting of demerara sugar. Salt shows up mid-palate, shifting away from sweet and combining with the peat smoke to do a play on a light pancetta. Close is clean and semi-brief, flashing those cherries from earlier, a dash of dark cocoa and letting the salt linger until the end. You won't mistake this for an old Mortlach or Ledaig, but the savory is a nice twist, and is what sets this apart from a lot of otherwise good, unobjectionable, but mostly unmemorable, older-aged whisky at premium prices. I will note that my first taste of this was in the Bowmore bar. Gazing out that giant window overlooking the bay may have had an outsized impact on how I felt about the whisky I held in my hand. But I'm sure that's marketing as well, and in this case, it worked. I won't be buying another bottle because the cost to return just isn't there for me. But I'll always have my eye out for a bottle behind the bar.

Review #025 Type: single malt scotch Proof: 43% Comments: aged 18 years, ex-sherry and ex-bourbon Tasted after: Bowmore 15 Year Appearance (no score): Mahogany color. Swirling reveals a thick line sticking to the side of the glass, legs form quickly. Nose: 17/20 Vanilla, strawberry jam, rubber, and oranges. It’s hard to smell the peat smoke but you can tell it’s there. Palate: 36/40 The palate is surprisingly smokey given that it’s nearly non-existent on the nose. There’s also red currents, orange marmalade, a touch of honey, and a light saltiness Finish: 36/40 Nice long finish. Oak spice gives way to cinnamon and baking spices, a mild alcohol burn carries the spice along a long slow transition to ashes and smoke. With Water: A drop of water really brightens it up a bit by bringing out more citrus flavors. Total: 89/100 Final thoughts: Radically different than the 12 and 15 year but in a very good way, the bourbon casks seem to dominate the nose but the Spanish sherry influence rules the palate. Price: $160 Would recommend: yes Would buy: yes Scoring Legend: 96-100: The perfect dram, absolutely exceptional, nectar of the gods, I will savor this bottle and make it last, 5 stars. 90-95: Near perfect, there is something truly special about this whisky, 4.75 stars. 85-89: Very good to amazing, almost the complete product, 4.5 stars. 80-84: Quite good, very enjoyable to drink, but doesn’t wow me, 4.25 stars. 75-79: Good, enjoyable but ultimately flawed, unlikely to purchase again, 4 stars. 70-74: A solid dram, but wouldn't go out of my way to get it, 3.75 stars. 55-69: Drinkable, 3.5-2.75 stars. Below 55: Suitable for cooking or direct contribution to the kitchen sink drain, 2.5 stars or less.

Nose: Initial blast of burnt match sticks gives way to sherry, orange zest and marmalade, mild tobacco, sea salt and barrel spices. Palate: Slightly viscous and silky, mildly salty, semisweet, light orange marmalade, chocolate, stewed red fruits, tobacco and barrel spices. Finish: Longish with an initial blast of sulphur, then peat, chocolate, sherry and barrel spice notes take over. This bottle is now half full (or empty, depending on your viewpoint). It still challenges me each time I take a dram. The initial blast of sulphur is just not appealing. As I sit with it, the better notes almost take over and almost redeem the whiskey, but the sulphur never fully disappears. That makes me rate it lower than want to. Even a second dram, dulled senses and all, can’t compensate for the sulphur. 7/11/24 Almost two years have past since last tasting this bottle. Time and oxidation have been kind. The sulpher is mostly gone, allowing the best notes to shine through. A nice caramel note has arrived, but no other new notes have presented themselves. Bumped 1/4 point.

This is absolutely one of my favorite drams. I nursed it for 30 minutes and new things emerged as the whisky aerated. There’s so much going on here. Roasted pork is prominent, but only when I hold the nosing glass to far outside of my left nostril. On the palate, a surprising sweetness. It’s spicy but it doesn’t burn. I’m not a big fan of rye, which is very spicy, but somehow the cinnamon and pepper here are both bold and gentle in a way that makes me feel safe and protected. The finish is fruit and flowers. But wait. That was just the first time through. Now the smoked meat is gone. I’m not getting smoke. The nose is Japanese grape gummy candy. Soft, chewy, more authentic concord grape flavor than American candy. The pleasing spice on the palate stays and a grape aftertaste with cardamom lingers. Update: I finished the dram and posted the review. Then I noticed mesquite smoke had just permanently taken up residence in my sinuses. My Lord, I could live contentedly like this forever.