I used to be a Scotch drinker, but gave it up for no good reason that I can think of right now. The following has nothing to do with the thread thus far, other than it has to do with Scotch.
At one point I somebody asked what scotch to bring to a Christmas party. Keeping in mind my avatar, this is how I responded:
Ahhh, 'tis an oft asked question: what libation to bring to a Christmas party? Should it be of such esoteric high quality that even the most discerning of epicureans will purse their lips and salivate with anticipation? Should one perhaps select the more approachable middle ground that will satiate gourmets and impress novitiates, while remaining affordable so that one doesn’t appear crassly ostentatious?
The answer is, of course, none of the above. Let's face it, we're talking a Christmas party here and if the party's any good whatsoever everybody will get so blotto that the only lip pursing that's going to take place will be in the pile of coats in the guest bedroom. And if that doesn't happen, then the hell with them anyways because they obviously don't know how to party and it's a damn good thing that you didn't waste the good stuff on that bunch of stiffs. In any case, do you really want to impress these people with how you can squander money on an exceptional bottle of liquor that some complete stranger off the internet recommended? Sure, it's fine if you're giving a gift of appreciation, or if you hang around with sniffy pinky extender types, but for this kind of fete, there's only one thing to do: aim straight for the gut.
That's right, you want a scotch that has a kick on it like a steelworkers armpit, something that puts hair on your back, sets your teeth on edge and renders at least one side of your body partially paralyzed. You want a liquor that you can hold up to the light, peer through the murky depths and utter such pithy ponderables as "Say, is that a toenail in there?" The scotch you seek needs a nose redolent of burning tires, low tide and a nasty infection with little aftertaste but heavy afterburn. If it doesn't say, "if swallowed, do not induce vomiting" you had best steer clear. Nothing less will bring out the best in a party, especially since nothing says ‘Happy Holidays’ like the gift of the Heimlich.
So, with these simple rules in mind, my recommendation is Clan MacGregor. It’s only US$12.97 a fifth at your local rotgut emporium. It's a sturdy scotch with a stout handle, should the need for hand-to-hand combat arise. And boy, will it ever, for this is not an effete scotch to delicately sip and dwell over the nuances of the fragrances wafting from the tumbler. If you do, you will be treated to not only an inflamed esophagus, but a large amount of burned nostril hair.
No, this is a scotch to toss back with abandon, slam down the tumbler, stand on the chair and rip off your shirt. It’s a scotch that all but screams “Bottoms up means face down!” There has never been a finer howl-at-the-moon scotch than Clam Macgregor and your friends will not only appreciate the subtly of the resultant sledgehammer hangover, but they will gain a great deal of perspective of exactly what kind of man you are.
Drink it neat, drink it on the rocks, hell drink it with Pepcid AC for all I care, it doesn't make a damn bit of difference what you do to it because it still tastes exactly the same: offal. I guarantee you that you will have people talking about the day you brought Clan MacGregor to the party for years to come. Not to mention the subsequent bruises, court cases, insurance settlements and medications. And isn’t that really what a Christmas party is all about?
As always, happy holidays, drive sober, be safe and do try to not wind up sleeping in a Goodwill box again.
