And now a recommends from your humble, modest, and terribly good-looking host. Tonight I am taking a trip down to Fells Point, Baltimore for a visit to the Birds of a Feather scotch bar. There is a chance this place will be a little too swanky for my hooded-sweatshirt, courduroy pants lifestyle. But regardless of how comfortable I feel in the place I am going to drink some good scotch. A lot of it. Because I'm not paying.
As a gift of celebration for finishing recording the new Quartet Offensive album, Heather bought me a bottle of my favorite scotch to (regrettably) share with my bandmates. Now, I don't have the money to be a true scotch connaisseur or anything, but I know what I like. Also I probably haven't ever tasted the scotch that would be my absolute favorite, because good scotch is expensive. But of the ones I have enjoyed Lagavulin 16 is far-and-away my favorite. Made right by the sea on the island of Islay, the best description of the taste of Lagavulin is it tastes like you are eating the earth. It's like licking a campfire, and eating a handful of the tastiest dirt you've ever had. When scotch is described as peety, I am imagine Lagavulin is the benchmark. You can get a bottle of it for under $60 in the Baltimore area, and if Maryland would ever break it stupid laws for mailordering alchol, you could get it for about $53. You can also order it at a number of bars in town, my personal favorite being the Hamilton Tavern, where it will set you back $10 for a serving. Not something you'd order everytime out, but you all deserve a little treat now and again, especially if there is a fire nearby and you have a pipe in your pocket.
Also, I tend to listen to music when I type these entries so I am going to start a currently listening-to footnote at the bottom of each post. Today's choice is Dear Catastrophe Waitress by Belle and Sebastian. And whaddaya know, they're Scottish. Crazy!
