What's Tony Drinking? Whisky, More Whisky, and a Rye Cocktail for Good Measure
A Constellation Of, Er, Astronomically Rare Whisky
I was sitting at home minding my own beeswax when the text came in over the transom from my old friend, whisky maven Marlon Tulaszweski: “Are you available for dinner next Wednesday at Fine & Rare?” Marlon works with The Dalmore, the Scotch single malt known for its astounding cask-finished expressions (they source the finest sherry butts from Gonzalez-Byass and legendary port pipes from Graham’s, to name two) and the insane prices that come with its harder-to-find expressions. Now, I was in pretty much the second I heard the word “available,” but I decided to play it cool: “Sure, what’s up?” “You and me and [Fine & Rare owner] Tommy Tardie and Craig Bridger [another old friend and whiskyphile who was just awarded the prestigious Keeper Of The Quaich honor] and maybe one or two other people. We’re gonna drink some Constellation.”
The Dalmore Constellation, for those of you who don’t know, was a collection of 21 single-cask bottlings, distilled between 1964-92, which was released as a collection about 10 years ago. I’ve seen it sold for anywhere between $333,000 and $450,000 (I told you the prices were insane!). Individually, some of the bottles can still be found individually for… well, for more money than we mere mortals would ever think of spending on a bottle of whisky.
We didn’t drink all 21 bottles, of course, but we did have two of them, which is two more than I’d ever had before: The 1966, aged for 45 years and bottled at a cask strength of 41.7%, was elegant and sweet, with notes of almond, marzipan and honey, gentle oak on the back of the tongue, and a long, lingering rancio finish. The 1979 was a more untamed beast at 58.9% ABV, with honey and raisin evolving into a big, oaky spice — quite unlike a typical Dalmore, but delicious all the same. And for good measure we tried a rare single cask from 1980, giving us three drams from three different decades. The ’80 was fascinating, like drinking perfume — honey sweet with a tingly spice evocative of early morning golden sunlight. Simply gorgeous. Oh yeah, and we had dinner too. So why was I invited to partake of this magnificence? I still don’t know. All I know is that when you get an invite to drink some Constellation, you show up, no questions asked.
Dirty Water Hot Dog Whisky? Not Quite
One of the few Scotch single malts to compare to the Dalmore in terms of collectability and bank-breaking prices is The Macallan, and I happened to try their latest expression too, at a swanky black tie-optional event at the Rainbow Room (I opted not to wear black tie, but I think I looked pretty spiffy regardless). Distil New York is the latest edition in the Distil Your World series, in which whisky maker Polly Logan tries to capture the essence of a city in a bottle of whisky. I was kind of hoping for at least a bit of a dirty-water hot dog vibe, but the bright (big) apple notes of the finished product were quite pleasant too. We also drank our share of Macallan’s justifiably classic 18 and 25-year-old expressions, and fabulous whisky scribe Susannah Skiver Barton and I kept each other amused throughout the festivities. Distil New York is available now at retail for approximately three gazillion dollars, while supplies last.
The Last Drop… And The Last Zoom?
Doing booze tastings over Zoom are SO last year, dah-ling. But when the Zoom call in question is with Rebecca Jago, and the booze in question is three of the latest releases from The Last Drop Distillers, well, that’s a whole ‘mother kettle of fish. The “Distillers” in the Last Drop’s name is, in this case at least, a misnomer, as the brand’s collection comes from sourced single casks of impossibly rare and unique spirits that Jago and Co. have somehow tracked down. They’ve been releasing beautifully packaged and delicious tasting whiskies, cognacs and more since 2008, and I’ve had the pleasure of knowing Rebecca for several years — I think the first time we met was at a Last Drop event at a mansion on Long Island, which began with me and a bunch of other writers getting helicoptered onto the front lawn, and ended with my begging not to be poured any more 50 year old whisky because the hangover was already starting to kick in. The woman does not do anything halfway.
We kibitzed electronically and tasted the three newest Last Drop releases. First up was an unusually high-proof (60% ABV) Japanese blended whisky, including ridiculously rare malts from both the early and latter days of the Hanyu distillery, which only existed from 1980-2000. High-octane though it was, it was still quite delicate and floral. From Japan we moved on to Scotland, namely a single malt from the highly regarded but less high-profile Glenturret distillery, laid down in 1977 in a single sherry butt and left to mature for 44 years. It was surprisingly bright and fruity, without the tannic overkill that can sink so many older whiskies. And lastly, we sipped a Petite Champagne cognac distilled in 1950 at a small, now-closed (and unnamed, for legal reasons) family-run distillery which mostly supplied its eaux-de-vie for blending at bigger houses. 70-plus years is in oak is not crazy old for cognac, but there was none of the dry astringency you might expect with that kind of age statement, just a riot of tropical fruit — I’m talkin’ melon, coconut, fresh grapes… if there was ever an Hors D’Age cognac to sip by the pool, it’d be this one. Rebecca is as enjoyable to talk to as her booze is to drink, and there are few better ways to spend a lunch hour, even though our meal was entirely liquid.
Shirley Temples (And Other Cocktails) At Manhatta
Perched 60 floors above NYC’s Financial District, with a view as enjoyable as its food and drink, Manhatta was one of my favorite new bars/restaurants of 2019. And then 2020 happened and… you can guess the rest. But Manhatta, like Manhattan itself, is re-emerging, and it hasn’t missed a beat. I checked out the action with my wife and daughter in tow. Now, I try to approach things critically, but my daughter takes it to extremes — her ethos is basically, “I hate it until you convince me otherwise.” The spectacular view softened her up even before we sat down, but the Shirley Temple made her a full-fledged convert. My daughter, you should know, is a Shirley Temple connoisseur, and most of them (apart from the ones I make and those from Bemelmans Bar at the Carlyle, of all places) get the thumbs-down. But she loved this one. I tried it myself, and the grenadine was pretty excellent — more rounded and fruity, less sickly sweet than the typical ST.
Oh, and the boozy cocktails were great too! Part of the menu is devoted to New York-themed cocktails, from the Manhattan to the Bronx to Big Trouble In Little Italy. I checked out the Brooklyn, made with cherry blossom-infused rye. My daughter said, “It smells like a candy store,” and she wasn’t wrong, but somehow it wound up perfectly balanced and not too sweet. And since living on booze alone is not recommended, their food is appropriately excellent and soaks up the alcohol — the burger is among the best in town, and my daughter loved her steak so much that she said she’d like to come back with us. Anything that involves voluntarily spending time with her parents (she’s in full tween mode presently) has to be pretty terrific. And that’s what Manhatta is.