Now I wish I were home. Not really. But this makes me want to be in Chicago.
Binny’s Beverage Depot, arguably the store I made the most fun of in my youth. For goodness sakes. Who is Binny? And a beverage “depot” of all things? Well, it actually makes sense. In an American superstore kinda way. These stores are huge. And while it makes things more convenient and cheaper for the consumer, I always feel these k-mart-ish monstrosities take away from the real world charm of what wines and beers and spirits really are. Then again, it is America, here. The home of the “champagne of beers,” oh Lord our God and God of all ages, save me. No American beer, besides what we call microbrews stands up to the imports. And Lord knows I drank my share of MGD in college, oh goodness gracious I did. Little did I know until years later that this was actually an “upscale” American beer for a college student to be drinking…some good friends at other colleges (perhaps state schools) were happy to point that out.
But, back to Binny’s. They’re having an event called “World of Whiskies,” where for around $50 you get to taste around 150 whiskies…from around the world…duh. And OMG. I would really kill to be there right around now. AND – this is apprently an annual event held on the night before the Malt Advocate’s WhiskyFest. For $95:
Your ticket includes Glencairn tasting glass, 1-year subscription to Malt Advocate magazine, event program with tasting notes section, all seminars, gourmet buffet and beverages throughout the evening.
The best and the worst of America. Of the world. I so want to be there to taste and learn and experience. But I don’t want to be in a herd. At least in Israel, there aren’t enough people to feel like you’re being driven like cattle. And should I ever become expert enough in any of these related fields, I certainly wouldn’t want to be preaching to masses of folks yearning to suck down inordinate amounts of excellent whiskies. Oh I’m such the snob. I have no right to be. Really, I don’t. Nobody does. God, I wish I could “break into” this industry. I would love to teach people about this stuff. I want to taste everything and meet the makers and maybe even try to make my own as an experiment and certainly refine my palate as much as possible, because Lord knows (and the Lord does indeed know if a Lord does indeed exist) that I have a fine, fine nose on the front end of my face. It’s a nose to cast a thousand ships. I identify herbs and spices in foods like no other I know. And I am mostly untrained as a greyhound, honest I’m not. And I’d so like to be. I’d be proud to auction my nose off the the highest bidder, honest I would…that is if I was confident about its skill. I’m going to stop now. I just compared myself to a greyhound. Next, who knows, I’ll be insuring my nose like Rita Hayworth did her gams. Good Lord. Gams? And what’s with the Lord’s today? I don’t know. I forgot my meds, and I drank too much coffee, that’s what. And I’ve started to write about passion. Sexual desire. And its food equivalent. It’s a good day, for sure. And now I’m stopping, you fine fine readers, wherever you are. And if you’re in Chicago – GO! Go to this thing, and tell me about it, you lucky lucky sons of bitches.
Read my other posts about whisk(e)y:
Canadian Tennessee Scotch – about a fun tasting I did in Tel Aviv
Johnnie.Walker.Blue – says it all, and more, it was a phenomenal tasting in Dublin
Life After 30 