Author Archives: antihero7

Heading Home

And soon I shall return again, to Islay’s gentle shore
And see across the tide waves wide, the bright lights of Bowmore
Or wander through Bruichladdich, as night begins to fall
And see the moonlit beam on lovely Lochindaal

 – Iain Simpson (The Lights of Lochindaal)

We’re about two months from go time for the 2019 Calgary tour contingent. This will be the fourth group I’ve taken over in the last eight years (that doesn’t include solo jaunts). And the requests keep rolling in. There are two potential journeys back to the homeland in 2020 coming to fruition as we speak.

But let’s concentrate on the matters at hand. Namely, the trip looming just over the horizon. I’ll try to do a little better this time at keeping you apprised of how things are coming together, how they unfold, and how it all wraps up. It was all ‘great guns’ with trip updates for the first couple journeys, but man…growing up sucks. My time is less and less my own as the days go on. I’m 41 now and feeling every day of my years. Finding daylight hours for jottings like these seems to be getting tougher and tougher. But if these are the worst of our problems, so be it.

But let me give you the rundown. I think we’ll keep it to first names here, in the event any of the lads prefer to maintain some semblance of their anonymity. Something tells me that’s a non-issue with these blokes, but y’never know (especially as the stories begin to come to light, aye?) This crew? Scott: a gent who came across with me once before (2012), Kent: an old friend (old, as in long-time, not age), Dave (ditto, also one of my football mates), Devin (a man with one of the most laidback personalities I’ve encountered in some time; in other words…a prefect travel companion), and Doug (a sandbaggin’ sonuvagun that has forgotten more about whisky than most people will ever learn). With a collective like this, it’s gon’ be a time, b’y!

We’re heading across in a few separate groups before meeting up in Glasgow for a wee bit debauchery, a tour of Auchentoshan, then the wee hop across to that hunk of Hebridean heaven: Islay. We’ll knock around the island for a few days, ford the great waters back to the Mull of Kintyre for a couple days in Campbeltown, then head back to Glasgow to see our mates at the Bon and the Pot Still.

Cannae wait.

And the details shall be yours as they unfold. Planning notes, trip updates, on-location images and details (I think!), and post-trip recollections. Perhaps we can even sucker some of the others into contributing some thoughts here.

Watch this space.

 

A New Category

I’ve added a new category on the left side of the page, and called it ‘Silent Stills’. From here on out (and retroactively, as time permits), I will tag all of the closed distillery notes to it. This is the stuff that really lights me up. Not to mention, I will have plenty of reviews of some truly special closed distillery bottlings in the coming days.

Killyloch 36 y.o. Review

Yes. For real. Killyloch. One of the most scarce single malt whiskies in the world. This 36 year old official bottling was a vatting of the last half dozen proprietary casks of Killyloch in the world. If you’re unfamiliar with the name (and yes, most of us are), Killyloch was produced at the Moffat complex in Airdrie. It was one of three single malts and a grain that were produced on site. The malts were Glen Flagler, Killyloch and Islebrae. The grain was Garnheath. All four are long gone now, of course, but Killyloch became the earliest casualty of the complex, when its stills – having only been christened in 1965 – were decommissioned just a few years later and absorbed by Glen Flagler. (Sounds a little like the Malt Mill / Lagavulin saga, aye?) In all, I’d guess there were maybe 6 or 8 years of production.

It’s a shame the abv on this 36 year old is a meager 40%, but the bottle actually says this is natural cask strength – and to be fair, it is quite decently oily – so let’s just assume honesty and transparency are to be taken at face value. And the whisky? Man…what can I say? This is the true definition of liquid history. It’s a relic, for sure. Tasting it nowadays is anachronistic to the point I kinda feel like I’ve stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone. Fantastic stuff, and spectacularly special to be able to try. Now, if only there were a drop of Islebrae to be found…

Sincere thanks to my mate Brett Tanaka for the opportunity to taste this. The range of bottles he’s been opening for what we’ll call ‘The Brett Sessions’ are simply beyond comprehension. And I am beyond humbled to be able to partake. I’ll be reviewing dozens of them in the coming weeks/months.

Tasting Notes

Nose: Orange, peach and tangerine. Very fruity. Bourbon notes are strong here behind the rich, tropical notes. Cherry. Old dead wax. Polished church pews and other antique-y notes. A slight peatiness. White dough. White chocolate. A deep vein of spice running through the whole. Citrus oils.

Palate: Very soft arrival. Spicy, to the point of being almost rye-like. And yet, still sorta bourbon-esque too. A little peat (but soft). Lemon cream pie. Lemon Drops. A bit of licorice. Some marzipan. And more of those soft orange peachy tones.

Finish: Longer than expected. Lovely and creamy. Reminds of a creamsicle.

Thoughts: Stunned silence.

91/100 (could likely add an extra point or so just for the sheer enormity of what we’re tasting).

Ardbeg Drum Review

I wanted to love this. I really did. As soon as they announced this year’s Ardbeg Day release was going to be rum cask-matured I immediately went into mental damage control. It’s okay. Relax. It might still be good. You don’t much like wine casks, but Grooves was good, right? Rum, though? Really? And that name. I’ve mentioned the concept of jumping the shark before, and maybe this is finally it.

A few years ago, Diageo’s Nick Morgan made some ridiculous comment that fired up the cognoscenti. He was coming out in defense of NAS whiskies (or if you can read between the lines: being the human shield for the fatcats at Diageo HQ) and said something along the lines of running out of numbers for age statements. Silly, of course, but I’m hoping that the idea of ‘running out of’ anything is maybe a little more applicable on the NAS side of things. Especially as relates to Ardbeg, one of my most beloved of distilleries. Maybe they’ll run out of silly concepts, and go back to numbers. Can you imagine the buzz for a proper age-stated range of Ardbeg? I mean, a regular core range of 10, 17, 21 and 25 or something? That I could get behind.

Drum…well…not so much.

Is it bad? No. Not actively. Is it good? Meh. S’okay. Not much more. I find it oddly thin and lacking the swagger that Ardbeg usually has in spades. Anyway…

46% abv

Tasting Notes

Nose: Very young-ish. Smoky as hell, but…lacking the expected…I dunno…Ardbeg-iness? Licorice. Bicycle tires. Overripe banana. Caremalized pineapple sugars. Banana cream pie. A little Coke with lime. A bit of eucalyptus chest rub. Smells kinda like someone polished up a pair of Wellies. In all…meh. Underripe and out of balance.

Palate: Again…missing that Ardbeg character. Hot, youthful and spirity. Black wine gums. Sweet barley sugar notes. Sensens. More rummy rubber tones. Lemon. Plastic. Brackish water. Not bad; just not exciting either. It’s almost hard to find the real Ardbeg in there.

Finish: Long, as with all Ardbeg, but yet still somehow thin. Like a longheld reedy note in a symphony when you’re expected a tuba. Leaves behind fruit skins, licorice, toothpicks and a little bit of that plastic character.

Thoughts: You lost me on this one, Ardbeg. For the first time in memory, I’ve not bought bottles for myself. Can we please just have a regularly available, fairly priced 17 year old again? Please?

79/100 (and that might be being a tad generous, if I’m being honest.)

Redux

My name is Curt. And I have a problem.

It’s not a deal nor a test nor a love of something fated.

It’s the fact that I work in the whisky world. Most of you are probably aware I spend most of my waking hours at Kensington Wine Market in Calgary. KWM is sorta like the Malt Mecca of Canada. Twice now the store has been runner-up for World Whisky Retailer of the year. Yup. We’re just that good. And humble.

I’m telling you this (or maybe just reiterating this, if it’s something you already knew) to give you some idea as to where I’ve been and what’s happened to the site over the last year or so. (Hint: nothing. Nothing has happened here). The simple truth is that I was finding it hard to balance my work responsibilities with my prime directive: honesty. Let me show you what I mean…

One evening many, many months back I wrote a couple reviews for the site. One was a rather positive review for a malt I liked. The other…maybe not so positive. The whisky in question was sulphury and…well…flawed. I published one. I went to publish the second and sorta pumped the brakes. We have loads of this stuff left on the shelves. If I talk shit about it, who’s going to buy it? Then I thought, just wait until it sells out, then publish. But that theory comes with its own problems. I could just see someone at some point calling me out: if you knew it was shit, why did you let me buy it? 

I struggled with this until just a few days ago. Then I decided, too bad. This site has been around for a long time. Ten years. It deserves better than to die a slow, whimpering death, relegated to the periphery of online whisky lore, while daily visits continue to drop. So…I had a sit-down with Andrew. Andrew “Scotchguy” Ferguson, that is. I’m sure you know him from his monolithic online presence, if not as the owner of KWM. I told him where I was at with it, and he was in absolute agreement: get ‘er back up and running.

And the thing about negative reviews? Well…two things, actually: 1) Caveat emptor. Buyer beware. What I write here (in terms of reviews, anyway) is one man’s opinion, and in no way an attempt to push opinion as fact. Almost every online retailer out there now has a review system on their site. I often read user reviews, but that doesn’t mean I have to agree with them, or base my own purchasing on them. And 2) At any given time, probably 75% of what we sell in-store is open for tasting. If I feel a whisky is not great, I simply don’t suggest it to customers. If they want it, however, and can try before buying? Hey…they’ve bought based on their own tastes, and I respect that. Especially if they are bucking the trend and going against the tide. There’s a deep-seated honesty in forging your own path and ignoring the din of voices all shouting in chorus.

Additionally…I will still be reviewing store-exclusive casks from time to time. We do a lot of these. Fair warning: these scores will almost certainly be uniformly high. Is this a conflict of interest? No. Not in my opinion, anyway. I’ve helped select these barrels for purchase, based on empirical evidence (i.e. my own tasting experience with them) and knowing that they were good. Sometimes great, even. Would I stand behind a purchase worth tens of thousands of dollars if I didn’t think the whisky was good? Of course not. And again…you can always come in and try for yourself. Our track record for selling entire barrels in record time is legendary. That, in my mind, speaks volumes about the level of quality we insist upon.

In short…we’re back, baby.

ATW will look a bit different going forward. Not sure what that means yet, but we’ll figure it out together. I do know that reviews will look a bit different. The content will be similar, but the format may be tweaked a little. Gotta keep it fresh for myself too, aye? And, at the same time, try to keep to a framework that people know and recognize. A few more inside jokes, a bucketload of non sequiturs, and some occasionally surreal ramblings will likely be par for the course too. Oh, and perhaps the odd diatribe.

I’m kinda hoping to recruit a few guest writers into the fold. There are several reasons for this, but it mostly comes down to injecting new life into the site and sharing the workload. As of now – until I find my ‘Angus’, anyway – reviews will all still be mine. I sorta feel like this is the only way to maintain consistency. You guys have learned to understand my palate, if not necessarily trust it. It would be disingenuous to let someone else start scoring whisky here until I am positive their tastes nearly mirror my own.

I’ll be leading another crew back to Scotland in a couple months, too. Six of us in total. It promises to be an absolute blast, so you can almost certainly expect some jottings on that l’il endeavor as well. Hopefully some stories, a handful of reviews and some random musings. We’ll see what shakes out.

Also, the sinDicate Single Malt Society is going great guns. Coolest whisky club around. I’m really proud of this one. The Dram Initiative was great, but sin is next level. And cheeky as f*ck, to boot. Which is, of course, my MO. We’ll share a bit more about that in coming days too, including some notes on the club’s first cask purchase. Exciting stuff.

Anyway…it’s good to be back. I’ve missed you guys and gals.

 – Curt

Port Ellen 22 y.o. (Rare Malts)

An absolutely iconic bottling from perhaps the most monolithic of closed distilleries. This 22 year old Rare Malts bottling (the earlier incarnation of Diageo’s official releases) is a towering example of what the Port Ellen distillery was capable of running off its stills in the late ’70s. Not to mention…1978 was a spectacular vintage (wink wink!).

These are the sort of drams we dream about. The kind that render preconceptions moot and make us recalibrate our systems for measuring quality (as subjective as that is, of course*). One simply can’t drink something like this and remain fundamentally unchanged. It is the sort of whisky that changes what we understand about what we understand, if that makes any since. The reasons are multifold. First, this is a volatile-compound-driven whisky. That means that the foremost flavor contributor is peat, and peat, by nature, is a volatile and changing component. It does not remain constant. In fact, it degrades. Those phenolic compounds we know and love will fade drastically given enough time in the barrel. Second, this was distilled in the late 1970s, a time when processes were different, yeast and barley strains were different, wood policies were not nearly so rigidly-enforced, etc. Third, this was produced at a time when demand was a mere fraction of what it is today, ergo vatting casks would have been a very different exercise. Fourth, the malt hit glass around the turn of the millennium. It has been sitting in a bottle for almost 20 years. Oxidizing. Let that sink in for a moment. For those that believe that maturation stops at bottling, think again. The whole concept of Old Bottle Effect (OBE) probably now has enough evidence out there to support the fact that it is indeed a reality. Cork breathes. Breathing, of course, is not just exhaling, but inhaling as well. The neck level of this bottle (and a substantial proportion of older bottles, for that matter) tells us that this whisky has been slowly evaporating over the years. So what fills that void in the bottle? (Because we all know nature abhors a vacuum, aye?) Oxygen. Exactly. And that is bound to change the whisky.

Where I’m going with this is, this is not contemporary peated whisky. It is a relic. A beautiful antique. Something from a bygone age, that, in all likelihood, will never be replicated. And it is utterly stunning.

The ‘Rare Malt’ appellation doesn’t even begin to describe this one nowadays.

60.5% abv.

Sincere thanks to my mate Brett Tanaka for the opportunity to taste this. The range of bottles he’s been opening for what we’ll call ‘The Brett Sessions’ are simply beyond comprehension. And I am beyond humbled to be able to partake. I’ll be reviewing dozens of them in the coming weeks/months.

*Let’s not delve into Pirsig asides on the Metaphysics of Quality, my contrarian friends. And I know there are a few of you out there.

Tasting Notes

Nose: Peat and smoke, as you’d expect, and a fair amount, too. All of that expected oceanic brininess and iconic PE tarry character is in full effect here. Citrus (lemon, primarily). Notes of iodine and ammonia. Seared scallops and oyster liquor. Fuel (kerosene maybe? Not quite?). Fennel and tarragon. Salt licorice. Like sitting on the beach near the maltings, for those that have ever experienced that. Or like the morning air in the village of Bowmore when the breeze is blowing in off Loch Indaal.

Palate: Bombastic and fantastic. Smoky and salty, with threads of dark, oily vanilla. Herbaceous notes of green tea. Grapefruit and lime. Super fruity behind all the smoke. Some orange and melon. There is something almost ‘burnt tropical’ about it too. Slick and dark and wonderful.

Finish: Exquisitely long and throbbing (easy now, kids). Kinda seafoody.  Kinda lemony.

Thoughts: This is a knockout dram. Unquestionably one of the all time greats, and one of the best expressions of Port Ellen I’ve ever tasted.

93.5/100 (But is that enough???)

Psssst…

You hear that rumbling? Like a great old engine awakened from a long slumber? Me too. I think it’s time. The monster has awoken.

You ready to do this all over again, friends?

Ardbeg Grooves Review

Ardbeg Grooves

46% abv

Score:  91/100

 

Past due here, I know, I know.  Betcha thought I’d be jumping at the bit to share a few words on the latest Ardbeg.  Being a so-called ‘fanboy’ and all.  Every time I review one of these releases I kinda feel like I have to duck and cover.  So be it.  I hold steady to my opinion that no distillery in the world is putting out this high a level of distillate year upon year.  Not every release is a knockout, but not a single one is bad.  Ever.  Actually, not one is ever less than really good.  Contentious, I know.

Some out there are saying that this profile is a little too ‘manufactured’ (or some such sentiment), but this deep fruitiness is spectacular with the big smoke behind it.  Really.  Think smoke-infused jam or something of that ilk.

Grooves was matured in charred ex-wine barrels.  As opposed to that wet-fill wine casking that all too often results in that weird sour winey tang at the back end of the development, in this case the sugars have been caramelized into the wood and come forth in a beautiful charry sweetness.  Gotta say, I think Grooves is probably my favorite of the recent Ardbeg releases.

Nose:  Surprisingly soft and jammy fruits behind big smoke and savoury BBQ notes.  Charred pork in some sort of berry reduction.  Smoked apricot (if only there were such a thing).  Some ashy, sooty notes.  A whiff of caramel.  Jam on well-toasted bread.  Damp smoke (as from wet wood).  Hard cherry candies and real vanilla bean.  With enough time in the glass…a whiff of well-toasted marshmallow.

Palate:  Coastal and, yes, very Ardbeggian (that is a word.  I refuse to hear otherwise!).  Warm rubber and salt licorice.  Dry and dark.  Ash again.  Smoked meat bark.  Beautifully gooey and sweet.

Thoughts:  Love it.  No two ways about it.

 

 – Image & words:  Curt

Yes, I’m Still Here

Hey, friends.

Appreciate the outpouring of support over the past week or so.  The site went down, as many of you know, and the amount of people I had contact me was a little overwhelming.  I’m beyond flattered.  Especially in light of my utter delinquency of late.  You’re good people, and I appreciate you.

AS for the issue itself?  Nothing.  Nothing at all.  The message you would have seen referred to the account being suspended or something.  It was nothing more than a technical f___-up.  A buddy of mine hosts the site for me, for which I pay him and he pays on further.  Unfortunately, he had migrated to a new host and the direct billing to CC didn’t go as planned.  Oops.

Alas, all is well.  Up and running.  Well…walking.  Errr…limping along.  Alright, let’s face it.  I’ve been at a complete standstill.  Priorities are elsewhere right now.  I do have intentions to come back to this (at least part time) in the very near future.  Next review will almost certainly be Ardbeg Grooves.  But in the meantime, I’ve been busy.  Work, yes, but it’s more my free time I’m referring to.  If you care for the reason, read on.  If not, rest easy, the site is still here and under no threat of disappearing.

Last week I finished the first draft of my third novel.  It’s called “The Colony” and it’s the biggest and (IMHO) best yet.  It’s been a monster to undertake and I’m not finished with it yet.  I’ve been working through the rewrite as we speak, so that I can turn it over to my ‘editor’ and the select few that constitute my ‘peer reviewers’ at some point in the next couple of weeks.  The story itself is a blurring of lines between historical fiction and folk horror.  It’s a split narrative that alternates between present day Oregon/Massachusetts and 1690s Salem.  Yes, for those of you historically-inclined, that was indeed the time of the Salem Witch Trials.  But, of course, the tale couldn’t be that simple.  Let’s just leave it at that.  Wink and nudge.

I’ve yet to really do anything with my second novel (“Rotten Soil”), but I will be either shopping it or self-publishing soon.  My first short story (“Sadie”) and my first novel (“Darker Things”) are both on Amazon.  “Rotten Soil” will have its time in the light too, but I’m not sure exactly when.  In the meantime, however, this new one has my heart.  I need to wrap it up.  Not least because book four has been conceived.  It’s itching away in my noggin and wants out.  It will be called “Balance” and it’s already kinda disturbing me.

Anyway…something had to give.  There are only so many hours in the day.  That something was whisky reviews.  I’ll try to do better for you all going forward.  Bear with me.

More to come.

Thanks a million for all of your support.  Sincerely.

 

C

sinDicate #001 – Club Launch & Talisker

“The King is dead, long live the King!” A very famous saying, most likely Irish in its origin, and in this case it applies nicely to the coronation of Calgary’s newest Whisky Club.  With that being said “The Dram Initiative is dead, long live the sinDicate!”.

The sinDicate Single Malt Society, Calgary’s* newest incarnation whisky club, was given life in an incubator known as The Green Bean Restaurant & Bar on the 19th Day of September in the Year of the Dog.  In the early evening hours of this hallowed Wednesday, a Tragically Hip Cult of 36 sinners, with a collective drinking weight of over 7,000 pounds, met on this inaugural night of nights, to witness Original Sin with a Titanic Talisker Tasting (let that sink in). The lineup was designed to make even the most squirrelly-headed Westcoast whisky drinker rethink NAS whisky, and bring our newly-founded membership to full Sin.

*Calgary, rated number one city in the world for whisky & enjoyment of life … Edmonton & Victoria not so much.

The orator on this night was none other than the Club President & Crystal Glass Immaculation Specialist, Curt Robinson, AKA Manitoba Sauron.  Curt regaled us with stories of the distillery’s past, which included a history of triple distilling and how it came to pass that yet another incredible distillery is owned by the Plastic Barrel Wrapping, Johnny Wanker Gang.  Curt talked about the direction of the new sinDicate club; a club where members want to gather regularly, not just cherry pick events to attend from a series of tastings; quality of whisky is foremost with six to eight bottles per tasting. Capping membership at 50, ( 44 members to date ) with a waiting list thereafter, guests can attend once but by invitation only.  70% attendance is expected, but the club is flexible in all things whisky.

Under the watchful and all seeing eye of the Manitoba Sauron, the club tasted the following eight expressions of Talisker, intertwined with the history of the Distillery and club business:

1. 10 Year Old 45.8%

It’s been said that he who is without Sin drink the first glass, so as usual this task fell to Maltmonster or Gandalf the Green as I have been shackled with lately, all because at a tasting of Bunnahabhain I said, “Send these foul beasts into the abyss”.  So with great PRIDE & a hearty toast, the evening, the club and a new sinful path began with a sea spray crash of new sinDicate branded Glencairn glasses.

Great intro to Talisker.  Smoked oysters with peppercorns in a lemon & lime brine sauce.  Diageo considers the ten year old to be a classic malt of Scotland, representing the Island style.

2. Distillers Edition 1992 – 2005 45.8%

Both Amoroso and its better-known cousin, Oloroso, are the ENVY of finished whisky. This Amoroso finished Distillers Edition doesn’t disappoint. It is like the sea monster Moby Dick, hooking up with a sexy pole dancer named Chocolate Delight, in a briny creamy raspberry tsunami of sensual debauchery … or not.

Not always a fan of the Distillers Edition, but this one hits the mark of enjoyment and still keeps it within the Talisker’ s uprights.

3. Storm 45.8%

It’s the great and wise blending wizards of Diageoz’ way of saying NAS and proud.  Storm … no … more like the wind from a weekend chili cook off on a cloudy SLOTH-filled day.

More younger whisky than older in this mix.  I believe there is a better use for older whisky than to drown it out in a storm of youth.

4. Port Ruighe 45.8%

Again, another GREED-driven NAS product, but at least this whisky takes on some interesting notes with its Ruby Port finish & cherry liqueur intensity, whilst retaining some farmy unpleasant low tide notes.

Port Ruighe is the Gaelic translation for Portree, the largest town on Skye.

5. 57 North 57%

ANGER in liquid form. Out for a hike in Grizzly Bear country, left your pepper spray at home, this might actually work better, but not for use against Cougars as they may be attracted to cheap whisky.  This NAS whisky seems like a really hot version of the ten year old, without some of the fruity notes.

57° North northerly line of latitude at which the distillery is situated on the Isle of Skye.

6. 18 Year Old 45.8%

This is the stuff of Legend.  The perfect bottling age for this whisky, just like the Lagavulin 16, Loch Dhu 10 or Bowmore 1964, the Talisker at 18 years is truly at its best.  I have loved this expression from the time I was a young wizard traveling middle earth.  The fruits, pepper, liquorice, smoke, orange and tidal flotsam are in balance and taste sublime.

Why Diageo punished Canada by removing sales of the Talisker 18 one can only hazard to guess, but here are my top five reasons with a little SARCASM:

i)             Because Canadians have no inclination for NAS stories or Trump facts.  It’s not that we aren’t gullible, it’s that we prefer stories with Dragons, Hockey or Leprechauns.  Please, no more Vikings riding Unicorns or spend it like Beckham, rich grain sucking sports stars.

ii)            Because Canadians are constantly calling the Bosses at Diageoz, Wankers.

iii)           Because Canadians didn’t buy into the whole Rare/Old Mortlach thing.

iv)           Because Canadians didn’t support Diageo during the Cardhu Pure Malt controversy.

v)            Because Canadians supported the Glenora Distillery in Nova Scotia keeping its name.

7.  25 Year Old 2012 Edition 45.8% 5,772 Bottles

I have been fortunate to have been part of a GLUTTONY of tasters who have tasted a few of these 25 year olds and can say with complete certainty that these maritime titans all have their own distinctive DNA. This 2012 version is at the crossroads of age. It still retains the pepper smoke, lemon and maritime favors, but in lessor amounts while letting the sweet fruit notes say more.

8. 30 Year Old 2009 Edition 53.1% 3,000 Bottles

This is a lovely old refined whisky, with LUSTy sweet fruit notes, banana, vanilla and citrus.  The smoke, pepper & seafood surprise are still there, just way less.

To drink and appreciate a Talisker 30 is a rare privilege, but to drink it with a group of like-minded whisky nerds is beyond words.

Cheers to the Beaners of The Green Bean Restaurant & Bar.  This is a welcoming establishment where you can take a break from your worries, get away, where everybody knows your name (whisky geek) and they’re always glad you came.  You get a real sense that the Beaners are always there to help in any way they can and by help I mean pour a cold beer & provide counter space to rest it on (although they have to work on their shamrock Guinness top).  I know it’s a lot of work to set up, and serve the food, so thank you Beaners of the Green Bean, for all that you do.

Big thanks to our President.  You really do complete us!  Sorry about pissing you off with the last club, but to be fair you said you were moving to some cold wind wept Island in the middle of the F#@king Atlantic during your tumultuous Chronicles of Hernia, Generation X, pre-forty, grass is greener near Ireland phase.  Shout out to the Privy Council Committee Members listed for helping to enable the rank and file at these events, Privy Council Committee Member, Antonio (Tone) Dourado, AKA Radagast the Cool, Privy Council Committee Member, David (Dave) Stephen, AKA Coach Gimli, and Privy Council Committee Member, Maltmonster, AKA,Gandalf the Green.

Éirinn go Brách,

 – Maltmonster