Let me tell you why I don’t watch the Super Bowl.
First, I have this strange, almost clinically diagnosable tendency to actively avoid doing what everyone else is doing. It’s the reason I don’t own an iPhone. It’s why I have no idea who Katy Perry is, that is, I couldn’t pick her out of a lineup and couldn’t, even if my life depended on it, sing a single line from any of her songs. If someone or something is fairly popular, my first inclination is to avoid it.
Second, I’m really good at avoiding things that could tempt me beyond my limits. For example, I used to follow a lot of different sports back in high school and college, but nowadays, life is too incredibly busy. If I actually invest in a team, I may become hooked again and find myself needing to watch to the detriment of my daily responsibilities.
Third, it wins major cool points with my wife to be completely disinterested in college and professional sports. This may sound a little bizarre because in this day and age it isn’t the portrayal of manliness to be so athletically ignorant. But she doesn’t factor this standard into our relationship. Besides, she knows I was an athlete back in the day, running track, playing baseball, soccer, basketball, and yes, even football. I think that what actually wins the cool points is that my personal time is so limited, and certainly I could choose to use it watching ESPN – but I don’t. She appreciates that I choose to spend that time with the family, maybe playing a board game or watching a movie. She knows I could come home from what are quite often stressful and unrelenting days and try to unwind in a way that excludes everyone else, but I don’t. I don’t want to.
Now I share all of this as it relates to my experience with the Glenmorangie Taghta. Most of you already know that I’ve not met a bottle of Glenmorangie that I didn’t appreciate; well, that was until now. And because the Taghta appears to be gaining a popular following amongst several of my whisky-drinking friends, I don’t want anyone to think that this review has anything to do with the personal tendency I mentioned first in the listing above. Give me a moment to explain how this is different.
The nose of this particular whisky was initially very vinegar-like with only a slight wafting of bitter fruits – perhaps cranberries or wild grapes. That’s incredibly off-putting to anyone, except maybe someone getting ready to clean a kitchen floor with a scented cleaner. But we’re not cleaning floors. We’re supposed to be sipping fine whisky.
The palate was a little better, giving over a tad of cinnamon chocolate and what seemed like rum. “Okay,” I thought, “it’s redeeming itself.” But then the finish.
The finish was long – longer than most other Glenmorangie editions I’ve known. The spiced rum remained for a moment but then, unfortunately, was replaced by the soured lineup experienced in the nosing. Overall, I was surprisingly disappointed.
And so, much like the Super Bowl (which is something I’ll certainly watch if the TV is already turned on and it’s what the family is doing), the Taghta is something I’ll drink if it’s around. I don’t think I’d go looking to unwind with it on purpose.