On Saturday, I put on a kicky cocktail dress (ignoring the fact that it was 30 degrees out), grabbed Suzanne and headed to the "Johnnie Walker Journey" at the Boston Center for the Performing Arts. Now, even though JW and I go way back (Colorado, 2000, irrigation ditch) I wouldn't necessarily consider myself a huge fan. I mean, I'm more of a bourbon aficionado, and in terms of Scotch, I know more about single malts than blended whiskeys. But I am an apt pupil and always looking to expand my (whisky) horizons.
After sipping a cocktail (red label margarita, Grade: b+), and munching on some snacks (Turkish apricots with Gorgonzola, grade: a++) we were shown to our seats for the tasting/multimedia presentation/hour long advertisement for Johnnie Walker. Suzanne and I were seated next to a very animated (read: drunk) couple who kept shouting out references to how excited (drunk) they were to be there. Despite the obvious marketing scheme, the event was pretty nice (free drinks). They did some interesting things, such as serving the Gold Label ice cold and mixing the Red Label with "cola", and encouraging us to use the Green Label as cologne, ("Put a drop in your hands, rub them together. Now, smell it!).
However, when the heavens opened and Johnnie Walker Blue Label rained down into my glass, I think I regained my faith in god (whisky). A swirl, a sniff, and it was like angels had wept tears of salvation into my snifter.
Hint hint... Christmas is coming.
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