Ah New York. City of some 9 million people squeezed into 300 square miles that never stop, never slow down. And tucked away among skyscrapers and some of the best restaurants of the planet are a growing number of whiskey producers.
Why we love Old Crow and Thelonious Monk (and so should you)
I’m nursing a $6 glass of Old Crow on the rocks at the legendary Vesuvio Café in San Francisco. Today is labor day. Jazz is playing in the background behind layers of conversation and the crinkling folding paper of tourist maps.
Read moreDrinking Bourbon in DC; or Corn: a Torturous Love Story
The first time I remember tasting bourbon was less than a decade ago. I was at a party hosted by a colleague and her husband in an up-and-coming neighborhood within the DC city limits. My wife and I were living in a small studio in the upper reaches of the Georgetown neighborhood. She was away for a few weeks, somewhere in western Africa on behalf of Uncle Sam. These were exciting weekends. The apartment, being what it was at 500 square feet, was mine alone for a brief respite. I took these opportunities to explore and perhaps indulge a little more than I would otherwise.
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