I'm a married white male. I like reading, writing, gardening, listening to music, teaching, cooking, drinking and wasting time.
MTS from Anderson University, MA in History (Medieval Europe) from Wayne State University. Currently taking care of my children and running a household.
Bottler: Signatory, Pitlochry, Perthshire, Scotland, UK (Symington)
Distiller: Glenlossie, Elgin, Moray, Scotland, UK (Diageo)
Style: Single Cask, cask strength, unpeated, single malt Scotch whisky.
Age: 11 y/o (distilled April 2009, bottled July 2020).
Purchased for $100.
Appearance: Medium pale straw.
Nose: Dusty oak, apricot, orange cream hard candy.
Palate: Medium full body. Creamy with mandarin orange, then big burn. Milder with water, but still creamy and fruity.
Finish: Malty and fresh with a little stone fruit.
Parting words: Glenlossie is one of the few twin distilleries left in Scotland. Its sibling is Mannochmore, which flies even farther under the Radar than ‘Lossie does. Both are owned by Diageo and are used more for blending than bottling as single malts, though the occasional independent bottling, like this one, does crop up from time to time.
I’m very glad this one did crop up. I wouldn’t characterize it as complex, but what it does, it does very well. Even at eleven years old, this is an elegant example of unpeated Speyside malt. Once the high ABV is tamed, there’s no rough edges to be found anywhere. Just highly polished sweet malt and fruit.
$100 is above my usual price range, but I don’t regret the purchase at all. When one factors in the cask strength, and skill that went into selecting this whisky, $100 is a fair price. Not a bargain, mind you, but fair. I’m really glad I picked this bottle up. Signatory Vintage Glenlossie 2009, Un-Chillfiltered Collection. (Vine & Table selection) is recommended.
Back in June of 2021, as Liz and I were planning our visit to Dablon Winery and Vineyards in Southwest Michigan (read the account of our visit here), I sent an email to James Lester of the nearby Wyncroft/Marland winery in Fennville asking if we could pay him a visit while we were out there. He obliged and we arranged a date and time to visit.
Why the two names? Wyncroft is the main, flagship label for higher-end single vineyard wines, and Marland is the one used for the more affordable line of wines from grapes sourced from other vineyards in the region. James made a point of saying that he only buys grapes from vineyards that adhere to his precise viticultural standards. I will be using Wycroft to refer to the winery for the rest of this post to avoid repeated slashes. There are only two full-time employees at Wyncroft, James, and his partner Daun Page.
Wyncroft is only open by appointment (no walk-in tourists!), but that appointment includes a personal tasting of at least five wines with James at the winery. It’s not free though. Tastings are $25 per person and no discounts are given. The tastings are scheduled for two hours but two hours with James can easily turn into four or more, especially as the wine and conversation start flowing.
On the afternoon of our appointment, I got an email from James reminding us of the tasting charge and that he does not give freebies or engage in quid pro quo arrangements with writers. As you know, dear readers, I never ask for or expect freebies, although when I visit wineries in my “official” Sipology Blog capacity, I do usually get complimentary tastings and occasionally get media discounts which I always disclose. I emailed him back and told him that we understood and that was perfectly fine.
We showed up to the front gate on time, even though Liz wasn’t sure if it was the right place since there is no sign (to deter the dreaded walk-in tourists). We were in the right place, I assured her, and I pushed the buzzer at the gate. After a few minutes with no response, I did it again. Still not response. I walked around the gate, wondering if we were supposed to just park there and walk. The winery buildings weren’t visible from there, so that was unlikely. I then checked the first email I received from James, and, of course, it contained his phone number and instructions to call him when we arrived so he could open the gate. I did so, he answered on the second or third ring and opened the gate for us to drive through. We drove up the short (by car) driveway up to the winery and parked in the precise spot James directed us to. We got out, greeted our hosts, and got the visit underway.
Unfortunately, the only notebook I brought was a large, ringed binder that was a little difficult to jot notes onto while standing. I think I did fairly well under the circumstances, and I have a pretty good memory when it comes to wine. That said, our conversation with him during our visit was wide ranging, and James frequently tossed tangential anecdotes and nuggets of knowledge our way. It was engaging conversation but it made note-taking difficult. To make this post readable, I’ve had to arrange most of my notes topically, rather than according to the flow of the conversation.
The first part of our visit was a tour of the property and its vineyards. As James told me, “You can do a lot in the cellar, but flavor begins in the vineyard.” The circular end of the drive is flanked by two buildings, the winery and James and Daun’s home. Surrounding them is ninety-four acres, most, but not all, of which is vineyard, which they’ve named LePage, a combination of their last names. Other Wyncroft-owned vineyards are nearby. The vineyard is technically in the Fennville Sub-AVA, making Wyncroft one of only two Michigan wineries to use Fennville on their labels. The other one, unsurprisingly, is Fenn Valley.
James also grows apples and pears on the estate, with plenty of room left over for prairie land, multiple ponds and twenty acres of forest. The forest includes the trees that ring the property, acting as a wind break and snow fence. Before James purchased the property it was a private arboretum. Many of the trees from that era are still standing and healthy, including several rare Asian conifers. The woods do attract deer, unfortunately, so James will occasionally drive through the vineyards while firing off a shotgun to scare them away.
We didn’t tromp over the entire ninety-four acres, but we did visit a few blocks of Merlot and Pinot Noir. Aside from those, he also grows Cabernet Franc, Sauvignon Blanc, Riesling, and Semillon on site. The rows are three feet apart, like in France (and at Dablon). James says this makes cropping easier, and that he crops in the sub-Grand Cru range, ten to fifteen clusters per vine. The rows are kept in a natural state, and clippings from the mower are left in place to act as a natural weed-blocker.
Ironically, a large north-facing slope is the warmest part of the vineyard, so that’s where he puts the Pinot Noir and Cabernet Sauvignon. James claims the slope is so warm, his Pinot can overripen if care is not taken, a relatively rare problem for Michigan. He uses early-ripening, loose clustered Dijon clones for his Pinot Noir. He believes that Michigan is much better suited to Pinot Noir cultivation than warmer climates like California, because of how closely Burgundy’s and Michigan’s climates resemble each other. He believes that varieties are adapted to particular climates and that it’s foolish to attempt to grow them in a different one. It was hard not to think of some other Michigan vineyards after hearing that comment. “So it would be foolish to try to grow something like Tempranillo?” I asked. He gave a thoughtful smirk, then told me that Tempranillo is grown in the highlands in Spain, so it can actually be grown well in Michigan.
I’m a big fan of Michigan Merlot, and James makes some of the very best. He has five different clones planted, including two from Pomerol, one Northern Italian, and one Inglenook California clone. I know that only adds up to four, but I couldn’t find the fifth one in my notes. James says that Merlot is just as fussy as Pinot Noir, but it’s easier to grow, so it’s often grown in bad sites, which is to blame for its bad reputation in some quarters. He says his Merlot tastes like Pomerol, and I can’t disagree.
Lester’s business model is a bit different from that of his neighbors’, even wineries like Dablon or Domaine Berrien. James is the founder, winemaker, and vineyard manager and Wyncroft. Daun handles most of the business end of the business. As I noted above, they are the only full time winery employees, although part-time seasonal help is used. He uses distributors in Chicago (his biggest single market) and in Michigan. Wyncroft and Marland wines can be found at better wine shops in Southeast and Southwest Michigan, and, of course at Friends-of-the-Blog Michigan by the Bottle Tasting Room, specifically the one in Auburn Hills, Michigan. In the early days, though, he self-distributed, but the job quickly became too big, especially in Chicago.
James was raised in a Seventh Day Adventist family (West Michigan is a big center of that denomination) and never had a glass of wine until he was twenty-nine years old. He made his first wine as a hobbiest in 1983 becoming interested in aged Burgundy and Bordeaux, and reading books on the topic. His first wine was a Pinot Noir, and he liked it a lot. He sent samples around to friends and people in the wine industry and they all enjoyed it as well, so he kept at it. He counts Willy Frank of Constantin Frank winery in New York and Leonard Olson of nearby Tabor Hill as mentors.
James’s business philosophy is to make wines he likes, and then to find customers for them. The wines he likes are for the most part traditional, French-style wines. He describes his style as classic, full flavored “wow” wine, that is an expression of its terroir.
To be fair, a lot of winemakers say things like that, but what sets Wyncroft apart is James Lester himself. He cuts a dashing figure with long gray hair, an open lapel, and a full, well-groomed beard. James is one of those rare people who talks a lot about himself and his business but is able to back up every word with excellent product. His wines are as much an expression of his unique personality as they are of Wyncroft’s beautiful vineyards.
Wyncroft isn’t a part of any official wine trails or Michigan winemaking organizations, partially to prevent tourists from showing up unannounced, but also because James has reservations about the way those organizations operate. He takes grape-growing and winemaking very seriously and is concerned that not all wineries take it as seriously as he does. Why should wineries like his and tourist-oriented ones making plonk from bulk grapes get the same benefits for the same fees? James doesn’t think that makes much sense.
Most of James’ red wines, in both lines, are classic red Bordeaux blends in various configurations. Cab Franc/Merlot, Merlot/Cab Fran/Cab Sauv, etc. Their ability to age varies with the varieties in question (as well as the label they’re bottled under), but all should have at least a full four years on them before drinking.
The crown jewel of his Red Bordeaux blends is Shou (pronounced “show”) from a Chinese word meaning longevity. In 2019 it was 47% Cabernet Sauvignon, 40% Cabernet Franc, and 13% Merlot. As the name suggests, this is a wine made for an extended time in the cellar. As the percentage of grapes suggests, it is intended to be James’ take on a Left Bank red Bordeaux blend. When our tour finally got to the cellar, I was able to taste some of the wines that would go into the 2020 vintage. The Cab Franc was chewy and dark with lots of berry flavors. The Merlot was deep purple and tasted like blackberry pie. The Cab Sauv was brick red and tasted like fruit of the forest pie. When I remarked on how little sulphur I tasted in the barrel samples, he was very proud of the fact. “Too much sulphur in a barrel sample is a sign of bad winemaking.”
The Wyncroft LePage Pinot Noir ages very well and should also be at least four years old before drinking, but the Marland Pinot Noir can be consumed early with no loss of flavor. They’re both elegant, but easy drinking, in fine Burgundy style. Aside from the usual suspects, James also makes a Blaufränkisch (aka Lemberger) under the Marland label. The grape has been increasingly popular with winemakers in recent years, since it grows so well in Michigan and produces very flavorful red and pink wines. Despite my early skepticism about the grape, I am now all in on Blaufränkisch, and James is too. When I asked him if Blaufränkisch had a future in Michigan, his answer was an enthusiastic “Yes!”
James Lester’s reds are probably his best-known wines, but his whites should not be slept on either, as the kids say. We tasted the Wren Song Vineyard dry Riesling which was close in style to dries from Alsace and Oregon. James regularly makes Riesling Ice-wine as well. The Wyncroft website shows a Marland Late Harvest Riesling, but I don’t recall ever tasting it.
James produces two Chardonnays, the single vineyard Wycroft Chard with oak, and the Marland Chardonnay “Non Affecte”sur liewithout. When he discussed Wyncroft Chard with me, he compared it to a picture in a frame. The oak acts as a frame, supporting and drawing attention to the aromas and flavors of the grape, like a frame supports and draws attention to a picture. It’s not an attraction in itself. “Nobody cares about the frame.” I had a taste of Chardonnay (Wyncroft I think, the samples were coming fast and furious) in the cellars and enjoyed it quite a bit even at that early stage. It had lemon, a little butter, and tropical fruit. He also produces an Auxerrois, with grapes from Bel Lago’s Moreno vineyard.
The white wines he seems most proud of are his Semillion/Sauvignon Blanc blends, aged in acacia wood barrels, like in Bordeaux. He sells two, the Wyncroft Shou Blanc and the Marland Sauvignon Blanc/Semillon blends. The website also lists a Marland Pinot Grigio, which I think I may have tasted at one point, but I don’t recall when or where.
Wyncroft produces only one pink wine, Marland rosé of Cabernet Franc. I asked why he doesn’t make a Pinot Noir or Blaufränkisch rosé, and he replied that he thought Cab Franc made the best rosé of the varieties he uses (to which I agreed), and he didn’t find it necessary to make more than one pink wine. I asked about orange wine and he smirked. “I’ve never had an orange wine that wouldn’t have tasted better as a white,” he replied. It’s intended to be consumed promptly, but I think quality rosé is at its best the spring or summer after its first birthday.
After the vineyard tour (and before going into the cellar), James led us to a small table that he or Daun had set up outside the winery for the more formal tasting portion of the visit. We tasted through most of what he had in stock. It was all good. We also had a nice long discussion about my blog and James said some very kind things, and that he would, after all, give us a media discount, and throw in a few “freebies” for tasting purposes. We ended up leaving with six bottles after originally thinking we would only buy three (due to price). The strange thing was that when we received our receipt via email a few days later, no discounts of any kind had been applied. I contacted James and he was apologetic and said they would get it sorted out and adjust the bill accordingly. That hasn’t happened yet.
I have an enormous amount of respect for James and Daun and all they’ve accomplished. I only mention this because I feel obliged to be transparent to my readers about the discounts that I may or may not receive. As I said above, I never demand or expect discounts or free product from any winery, distillery or anywhere else when visiting. If I ever do receive any, I always disclose what I received in the post about the visit and in any subsequent reviews. So I feel like I need to disclose all this, in the event that we do end up getting the media discount at some point.
Discount or not, James’s wines are worth every penny we paid for them. We got a great tour, and bought some great wine. A visit to Wyncroft/Marland is highly recommended. It’s a beautiful estate and James Lester is one of the best conversationalists in Michigan wine. Call and arrange your visit today!
Maker: Jim Beam, Clermont/Boston, Kentucky, USA (Beam Suntory)
Style: Single barrel, standard recipe rye Bourbon.
Serial number: 000228504
Warehouse: CL-J, Floor 4, rack 43
Age: 7 y/o (and 4 mos.)
Proof: 107 (53.5% ABV)
Michigan State Minimum: $60
Appearance: Medium dark copper.
Nose: Caramel, roasted corn, cut oak, cayenne.
Palate: Full bodied. Chocolate caramel brownies.
Finish: Hot, with some caramel and a touch of oak.
Parting words: This is the second time I’ve reviewed Baker’s, but the first time was back in 2014 when it wasn’t a single barrel and it had an irritating wax top.
Back then it was spicy but with an odd smell of rotten vegetables in the nose when water was added. I should have read that review a few weeks ago because in it I recommended that it be consumed neat, or with very little water. I didn’t do that with this bottle, and I was very disappointed with it.
All ready to give a scathing review, I poured some into my favorite Glencairn glass and started taking down notes tonight. When I was done, I looked back over them and thought, “These are the tasting notes of a very good bourbon.” Once again, I played myself.
Baker’s Single Barrel is recommended.
Before we go our separate ways, dear reader, I want to take a moment to applaud Beam for the Single Barrel Journey feature on the Baker’s website. It’s very cool. All you do is enter the serial number for your bottle of Baker’s and the website gives you all sorts of information on the barrel including location in the warehouse and even the high and low temperatures for the barrel’s time in that warehouse. Really neato stuff. Feel free to use the serial number above to try it out!
Distilled at Christian Brothers, Parlier, California, USA
Style: American (100% by law), Bottled in Bond grape brandy.
Age: 4 y/o
Purchased for $25.
Appearance: Dark copper.
Nose: Vanilla ice cream, alcohol.
Palate: Full bodied. Vanilla chews, caramel, burn.
Finish: Oxidized “dusty bourbon”, pure vanilla extract, anise candy.
Mixed: Good in an Old Fashioned, and with Coke. Very good with Benedictine. Would probably be very good in eggnogg.
Parting words: The Christian Brothers (La Salle, not to be confused with the Irish Christian Brothers, of Brother Rice fame) is a Roman Catholic educational organization, made up of lay men. A group of them established a community in Northern California in 1882, and decided to make table and sacramental wine as a way to raise funds for their schools. In 1940, they branched out into brandy, eventually becoming one of the leading American brandy producers. In 1986 the wine and brandy business was sold to a forerunner of Diageo and in 1989 the table wine part of the business was ended. In 1999 the brandy business was sold to Heaven Hill, and they’ve continued to produce, bottle, and market it ever since.
Unlike bourbon and straight rye, brandy can contain additives without disclosing them on the label, and this brandy clearly has them. There is no way that this is a natural color for a brandy of this age, and its sweetness and prominent vanilla flavors and aromas are most likely down to additives as well. Still, there’s a solid, fruity backbone to the whole thing that the high proof helps bring out.
As a mixing brandy, Sacred Bond performs very well. It’s even not too bad as a sipper, although I would reach for a commercial VSOP Cognac as a “weeknight” sipper over this. Still, I like to judge spirits based and what they are, not what they’re not, so I can’t judge this very harshly. It’s not trying to be fine French brandy, it’s trying to be an upgrade to the standard CB VS for mixing purposes. It succeeds at that, so I’m going to give it a recommendation. If you’re fond of brandy cocktails, give Sacred Bond a try.
Maker: Proximo, Jersey City, New Jersey, USA (Beckmann Family)
Distillery: Undisclosed but almost certainly Bushmills, County Antrim, Northern Ireland, UK
Style: Sherry cask Single Malt Irish Whiskey
Sge: NAS (4 y/o according to some other reviewers)
ABV: 40% (Bottle reads: “80 proof”)
Michigan State Minimum: $32
Appearance: Dark Copper.
Nose: Old sherry, oak, peach.
Palate: Medium bodied and sweet. Mango, apple, vanilla, caramel.
Finish: Creamy, with stone fruit and alcohol.
Parting words: The first thing that stands out about The Sexton is the, uh, unique bottle. It resembles a giant hexagonal inkwell, uses a variety of fonts, all in gold type, and features a skeleton wearing a top hat. What is the significance of it all? I have no idea. If you ever find out, please let me know.
The whiskey itself is slightly less mysterious. The left side of the label (which you have to turn the bottle to read) claims that it was distilled in County Antrim in (Northern) Ireland. Knowledgeable whiskey enthusiasts know what this means: Bushmills. Add to that the fact that the brand is owned by Proximo, which also owns Bushmills, makes this an open and shut case. Perhaps this was an attempt to move an excess of sherried Malt Proximo had sitting around the distillery.
Despite the weird packaging and half-assed attempts at misdirection, this is actually pretty good. America seems to agree with me (for once), since The Sexton is apparently the best selling Single Malt Irish Whiskey in the country. It’s not as interesting as Connemara or some of the other Irish Single Malts available in Michigan, but it is a lot cheaper, half the price in some cases. The sherry is not overwhelming either, which is a big plus to me, a person who doesn’t like sherry all that much.
Anyway, The Sexton Single Malt is a good sip and a good baragain. It is recommended.
Distiller: Ross & Squibb (formerly MGPI), Lawrenceburg, Indiana, USA
Style: Single Barrel Indiana High Rye Rye Whiskey.
Age: 4 y/o
Proof: 112 (56% ABV)
Notes: 95% Rye, 5% malt, #4 barrel char.
Price: $25 (Vine & Table)
Appearance: Medium copper.
Nose: Bold. Tarragon and leather.
Palate: Full-bodied and semi-sweet. Wintergreen, burn. More bitter with water. Char and peppermint.
Finish: Extra-minty toothpaste, apricot. With water, a little fruit but mostly faded starlight mint.
Parting words: As you may have guessed, Rye World is the Rye equivalent of the Bourbon World Vine & Table single barrel selections. That said, it’s a little less distinct than those two, since it’s basically just the standard high rye rye whiskey recipe from Ross & Squibb. That’s fine, though, since it’s a good example of that recipe, high proof, and cheap. If you like Bulleit Rye (apparently the best selling rye in the US at the moment!), you’ll love this. It’s aggressively herbaceous and minty, but take it easy with the water. It wasn’t able to withstand as much as I thought it would.
If you like Indiana Rye, Bourbon World is recommended.
Palate: Full bodied and creamy. Semi-dry. Orange sherbet.
Finish: Maltier, but still fruity with a bit of oak and alcohol.
Parting words: Penderyn distillery was founded in 2004. The early part of the twenty-first century saw the rebirth of the whisky industry in England and Wales. Penderyn was one of the first distilleries of that revival and was one of the first to get widespread distribution outside the UK. The distillery is located about thirty miles northwest of Cardiff, in Brecon Beacons National Park. Since today is the feast day of St. David, the sixth century monk who is the patron saint of Wales, I thought it might be a good day for my first Welsh whisky review.
Legend is Penderyn’s entry level single malt. The others available in Michigan are Myth (bourbon & “rejuvenated” casks, $70), Celt (finished in peated quarter casks, $70), Madeira Cask ($80), and Sherrywood ($90). At least they were all available in Michigan. They seem to have dropped off the most recent price book, although they’re still on shelves in many liquor stores in Southeastern Michigan.
It’s easy to taste why Penderyn has been so successful. Legend is a well-made, easy-drinking malt roughly on par with Scotch competitors in the same price range. If I can find them somewhere, I’d love to give the other expressions a try, especially Celt. Penderyn Legend is recommended.
Purchased for: I don’t remember at the Royal Oak Farmer’s Market.
Appearance: Dark burgundy with light carbonation.
Nose: Concord grape juice.
Palate: Medium-bodied. Tangy and grapey.
Finish: Foxy, sour.
Parting words: One Saturday morning a few months ago there was a booth at the Royal Oak Farmer’s market sellin Odd Brothers cider. I had never heard of the place before, so I walked up to the young man there and asked him to tell me about the ciders he was selling. He told me to look at the sign and that would tell me what they all were. I then asked him where the cidery was located. He gave me a vague description of where it was. So I found one on the wall, bought a four pack and left.
What Odd Brothers lacks in sales patter, they make up for in creativity. They don’t really have a classic dry or semi-dry cider, what they do have is a wide variety of (naturally) flavored ciders. They use everything from the more traditional fruit juices and cinnamon to marshmallow fluff, green tea, and spruce.
Sunday, Sour, Sunday is one of their least odd combos, but it’s tasty and proof that they can play it more or less straight when they want to. This cider lives up to its name delivering a lot of mouth-puckering tartness on par with a sour ale. While it isn’t exactly sessionable, it’s a nice change of pace from the dry or funky ciders I usually seek out. I don’t remember what I paid for it but I don’t recall thinking “it better be life-changing at this price,” so it couldn’t be too bad. Sunday, Sour Sunday is recommended.
Maker: Gelas, Vic-Fezenac, Gers, Ocittania, France (negociant)
Age: 3-5 y/o (according to website)
Purchased for $45 (Vine & Table)
Appearance: Dark copper.
Nose: French oak, anise, leather, horehound, red pepper.
Palate: Full-bodied and sweet. Caramel, white chocolate, crushed pink peppercorns.
Finish: Red licorice, caramel, black licorice.
Parting words: Maison Gelas is a 150 year old Armagnac negociant. It’s located in Vic-Fezenac, a small town most notable for being one of the few places in France where bullfighting still takes place and for being the birthplace of current French Prime Minister Jean Castex, whose politics this blog does not endorse.
As far as I can tell, this brandy is Gelas’s entry level Armagnac. It’s not quite a VO, not quite a VSOP, but makes for a decent weeknight sipper. The nose is good, and it’s inoffensive and easy to drink, but it lacks the rustic, floral character that Armagnac is known for. I suspect that it has relatively high amounts of caramel, sugar and possibly boisé (although it’s rare in Armagnac). If they would ease off the sugar a bit, I might enjoy this blend more, even if it might taste less refined. As it is, it’s ok, but there are better values at just a few dollars more. Gelas Selection is mildly recommended.
Source: Alexander Murray & Co, Calabasas, California, USA.
Distillery: Undisclosed (Bruichladdich?)
Michigan state minimum: $57
Appearance: Light gold.
Nose: Smoldering peat. Smells like a smoky custard with water.
Palate: Full and silky. Smoke, dark chocolate covered cherries, caramel. Water brings out buttery toffee.
Finish: Cigarette smoke up the nose, ash, peat, lip tingles. Very buttery with water.
Parting words: Alexander Murray & Co is an US based independent bottler that provides store branded spirits for Costco, Trader Joe’s, Total Wine, and other US retailers. I’ve really enjoyed many of their Kirkland Signature (Costco) bottlings, especially the blended Scotch and Irish Whiskey.
The Islay Single Malt is relatively new, at least at my local store. The online scuttlebutt is that it’s from Bruichladdie, but there’s been no confirmation of that. Having tasted this bottle next to a Port Charlotte bottling, there is definitely a family resemblance, but the PC is a little more rounded and sweet.
The biggest difference between Kirkland Signature Islay and whiskies put out under the Bruichladdich and Port Charlotte labels is the price. $57 is a very nice price for a Single Malt of this quality. If you’re looking for a smoky malt to put into your Burns’ Night lineup, this is an excellent choice. Kirkland Signature Islay Single Malt Scotch Whisky is recommended.