Notes

‘Crewman, get down there and fuel this steamer before I turn your guts to bait’ the first mate bellows. ‘Captains running inspections, don’t fall behind’. I descend from the top deck to the boiler room of the mighty icebreaker the Blind Duchess to replace the exhausted deck hand and begin shoveling coal into the furnace. It’s been 3 weeks and one day since we embarked up north, cracking the ice with every league making the voyage take twice as long as any sane time of year. But sane is not a word to describe Captain Fractkich, no, not sane at all. He runs a tight ship but you’d have be crazy to try and break the northern pass record. Hours pass, I sweat, I swear. Finally I’m relieved and go down to the crew quarters. But I hear something. A knock, a scuttle. I follow down to the cargo hold. A catch a glimpse of something darting behind the steel wall. My face is covered in grime, I wipe my eyes to see better as I grasp a monkey wrench as a weapon. I round the corner. There shouldn’t be a space here, there’s an entire section of the ship I’ve never seen. I hold a lighter aloft and slowly creep along the edge. I hear another sound…an uncorking of something…I turn and raise the lighter. There he is, the first mate himself acting as a stowaway, a bottle of something In his hand. ‘You caught me’ he says slyly, ‘surely you won’t begrudge an old man a side hustle’ I see the racks of illegal bottles stacked in this secret compartment. He hands me a bottle. My silence apparently has a price, and that price is delicious.

Delicious!

Beautiful color… thinking scotch. Or is this another Japanese that is I’ll surely miss. Love the advent calendar!!

Very mild. Drinkable.

Perfect on a 25° night. A lovely burn.

I like the heat. This tastes familiar...

So smooth. So nice.

'Twas the night of the twentieth tasting, and all through the hall. Not much could be heard but the TV blasting football. I prepared my whiskey glass with care. Excited to see what Jonathan Clause had left there. The sip was enchanting, so floral, so bright, A dance on the palate, both soft and light. It hinted of Scotch, yet was gentle, refined, A balance of flavors uniquely designed. “This isn’t a Scotch,” I declared with a grin, “It’s lighter, more delicate, the clues are within! A whiskey from lands where the cherry trees bloom, This must be Japanese, I confidently assume!”

Sometimes you're in a Scotch mood so when you're surprised with a Scotch, it puts you in an even better mood.

The one time a year that I don't hate scotch.

'Twas the night of the nineteenth tasting, my glass was aglow, The whiskey was waiting, it was time to give this one a go My first sniff was curious—was that chocolate I found? A sweetness, a richness, that lingered around. The first taste smoky, a boldness to claim, Its sharpness and heat hinted scotch was its name. But something was off, I recoiled in despair, “This scotch is dreadful, no more will I dare!” With grim determination, my mind made a call, “A scotch,” I declared, “and not good at all!” The tasting was over, my verdict was clear, A reminder that whiskey has highs and lows, and this was a low one, my dear.

Nuts on fire 🔥

Gold. Smooth nose. Trying to find the maple but i don't find maple. Just got some honey. Waxed floors. Not much depth or richness. Hay, cut grass, bright. Quick on the taste, doesn't linger. Miso soup. Gravy, Little bit of dirty sock. Torn here. Going spaceeyed! Enjoy it. Super light. If this is japanese ima be mad for not guessing that but sticking to my guns here. No warmth. Cydne wants me to buy this. High rating from the Reeves.

Solid, floral and delicate. I’m a fan. And sometimes you should balance your whiskey on your head.

Sweeter than another scotches, very tasty

Getting what I call saltwater on the nose, I knew i was in for some peatiness, but whoa that is just to much peat for me. It was real smooth, but i'm just not a fan of this style of whiskey

Struggling with the proof, it's definitely up there. Getting a little bit of everything, hot at the start but smooths out with tones of butterscotch, vanilla and honey to finish.

Getting too Peaty for me but I will say it finishes better with an oaky Apple Pie taste

If this is what I think it is, I’m a convert. Hits with a delicious punch of butterscotch and a suuuper spicy tail. Octane at its finest.

The ritual begins tonight. I have been passed over again. My best efforts never overcome status and privilege. Year after year I survive the trials and year after year I am ignored in favor of a child of a priest bloodline, or an aristocratic debutant who’s father wishes a ritual-chosen in the family to secure favor with the High Ember Dweller. This year it was another middle child born of some new money family trying to raise their name in the orders eyes. He is weak. He had to be carried through the trials, special attention and safety was given and now, again, chosen over me. I’m still bound to do my duty and observe the ritual in the Ember Dwellers Sanctum along with the other surviving rejects. It begins. The Chosen is kneeling, waiting for the Dweller to give the Ember Dew and usher in the New Sun. But the chosen quivers. He screeches. He runs. Quicker than he ever did in the trials, this pathetic boy tears out of the sanctum, screaming all the way. The Ember Dweller bellows, his face hidden by his ancient mask. ‘WHO WOULD STAND IN THIS COWARD’S PLACE AND WITHSTAND THE INNER FIRE?!’ I stand without thought or hesitation. The Dweller turns, smoke pours from the eye holes of his ritual helm. ‘COME’ he beckons. I take the position of the chosen. Time has warped, I’m moving in slow motion a thousand miles a second. He lifts the crucible cup from the fire, and raises it to my lips. It burns, but I stand it. It travels down to my heart, my very being. It warms me, yet Somehow it is cool. I think of my mother, I think of chocolate, I think of a treehouse on fire. I open my eyes and smack my lips, a small grin on my face. I enjoyed the Ember Dew, fiery as it was. ‘You have been chosen and now the New Sun’s Ember lives in you.’ the Dweller says. But that honor does not register to me, for the next words he speaks are are the words I have longed to hear for so long. ‘Well done. Well done my son.’

Hot on the nose. Really needs water to open it up. Honey vanilla caramel and lemon on nose. Cinnamon candy in tongue and finish.

Digging this one. Could be the Christmas atmosphere in NYC, but this was surprisingly good. Not a standout in flavor, but definitely smooth and consistent given the proof.

There's a fire in mouth.

amber and sweet before i even got close. the gang is all here on nise - caramel vanilla. gun shy from yesterday think this is just heat. bit of maple. wood. woody. strong lingering feel.