A whiskey is to be savoured, not to be drank back.
A whiskey shouldn’t necessarily be drank neat as the alcohol in a neat whiskey dulls your senses to the flavour.
But forget about the rocks: they lower the temperature of the whiskey too much.
You’ve lost your mind if you think you need a mixer: you lose the complexity and depth of the whiskey.
A few drops of room temperature water should do just fine. Be careful not to add too much, as too much can ruin the aroma and taste.
You have to be careful with a whiskey.
I’m like a whiskey: you have to be careful with me too.
I am a whiskey: but I come in a teacup. A delicate, bone china teacup.
You have to be careful how you handle china. One wrong move, the placement of a cup too hard on a surface and it’s chipped.
Once something is chipped it’s far more susceptible to breaking.
I’m chipped but I’m not broken.
Like a whiskey, we all have our own colour; our own depth; our own complexities.
I am a whiskey that is complex on the nose, earthy on the palate with rich, spicy undertones but with a light sweetness that develops afterwards.
Whiskey is seen as a man’s drink. It’s strong. It’s hard. It’s certain. It’s confident.
I am a whiskey. But I come in a delicate bone china teacup.
I am strong and delicate at the same time.
I can be both.
I am a woman.
I am a mother.
In the words of Sylvia Plath: