Scotch
Now
to serious stuff, the Scotsman's staff of life, whisky that's
been brewed from peat stained water that's trickled through the
heather and rumbled down a mountain burn. Brewers the world over
have tried to imitate Scotch and all have failed miserably. First
and foremost it's an absolute desecration to add ice tae guid
Scotch. If ice is your preference in a drink then dinna waste guid
Scotch and your money but buy any other brew that catches your
fancy. Of course Scotch
is best imbibed in the company of a good friend as after a hard
day the shoes are kicked off, you settle in to comfy arm chairs,
lay back, close your eyes and reminisce. I've often been asked
what is it that's in Scotch that makes it so different and sets it apart from
all other drinks? Would the questioner even understand if I were
to tell him? There's a very good reason why Scotch is called
Scotch but every Scotsman would answer the question a little bit
differently. I'll let you in on a few of the ingredients of what's
intilt for me besides malted barley.
It's
the red grouse calling go-back, go-back, go-back as a covey skims
low ower the moorland heather.
It
the soond o' the geese flying high on a mane licht nicht.
It's
the far awa soond o' the pipes driftin on the wind.
It's
the cackle of water tumblin ower boulders in a
hillside burn.
It's
the flash of a troot.
It's
a salmon leaping up the falls as it heads for hame.
It's
twa men in a wee boat flingin a flea on a loch.
It's
the lonesome call of a curlew on a rocky shore.
It's
the vision of the thistle that Wallace gave to his betrothed.
It's
the swing o' the kilt.
It's
the snaw that in winter covers the hills.
It's
a fine warming fire on a cauld winter nicht.
It's
the remembrance o' absent freends the world ower.
These
are some of the magic ingredients that's intilt for me that sets Scotch
apart and worth its every bawbee.
Turn
the lamp low. Close
your eyes. Slide doon intae your favourite chair, gaze intae
the fire and frae a wee hand warmed finely cut crystal
glass, sip it slowly.