
Let the images here tell the story of both my adventures and my successes.
For the record, it was not a close encounter by any means. I bagged this cranky crawly from about two-hundred yards. He was agile and fast, but not agile and fast enough. And now he makes a great adornment to my southern-most bar room wall.
An over-priced concoction of malted and unmalted rice, the Ohishi’s nose is easily alcoholic—sharp and medicinal. Although, the deeper the inhalation, the sweeter it gets. But by deeper I mean literally taking it into one’s lungs like a long cigarette draw. I doubt too many folks will do that with their whisky. Well, on the other hand, maybe they will. I mean, I just did. But I’m weird that way.
The first time around, the finish is light. A second go-round and the finish has more time to coat the tongue, eventually communicating a warmed jelly—perhaps plums.
Normally I’m a fan of Japanese whiskies. This one, not so much. I would’ve brought along a nice Glenmorangie or a decent Ardbeg, but we couldn’t get anything through the Space Force checkpoints. With that, we had to choose from the available selection in the duty free shop on LV-426. The Ohishi was there in abundance. I’m guessing I know why they may be shipping it off world. There doesn’t seem to be much of a market for it among the earthlings.
