We’re going to let Nick take this one…

As a red-blooded American, I cherish few things more than my freedom. Across the magisterial decades of my life as a world-renowned bon vivant, I have known liberty in many flavors: the wind whipping through my husky grin as I cruise on a motorcycle across the cornfields of Illinois, the relief flooding my anxious psyche when I purchase a savory strap of hormone-free, grass-fed beef jerky or the righteousness that courses through my veins when I declare my support of chunky peanut butter over smooth (I spit in disgust – Ptooey!).

These splendid rights are truly to be savored, but I also have to admit that they pale and dwindle if held against the vastly superior freedom I feel when I am up in the crow’s nest of a square-rigged sailing schooner, her bow pointing heroically at our far-flung destination beyond the horizon.

For example, when my crew and I are sailing the Qucrcus Alba, a good ship and true, on our established route from Islay to my hometown of Minooka, Illinois, we encounter all manner of both seas and sea creatures, some of which would, if we were chumps, beggar our collective disbelief.

However, because of the freedom I have cultivated in my lifetime of creative pursuits, I am generally able to employ my open mind and swap a few yarns with these disparate swimmers and submariners. Sure, sometimes we disagree on matters of taste, like if your smoked pork shoulder rub requires extra paprika (not a euphemism) when grilling in The Bermuda Triangle, or when floating directly above the lost continent of Mu, but one thing we all seem able to agree on is the benevolent effect that Caribbean rum casks have on the flavor of our Lagavulin 11 year single malt scotch. You see, the favorable winds, or “westerlies”, that blow our noble barque through the West Indies and favor us with the scents and flavors of the tropics, also send us hurtling across the vast ocean to Scotland, where we apply that inspiration to this, our paradise in a bottle.

Once this liquid booty has been finished in rum casks for 8 months, the mouth feel brings a delightful but unlikely mix of smoky and sweet, like simultaneously enjoying a mouthful of lemon meringue pie and the aromas of a bonfire. That citrus hit combines with notes of honey and vanilla, to warm your tongue like a Caribbean breeze. A cinder toffee sweetness lingers, with just a wisp of golden cinnamon, like the sun setting on your lee shore, and you are left with the maritime brine and warm chili pepper relish of a long, delightful finish. If this stripe of freedom sounds palatable to you, then this might just be the dram you seek.

Thanks Nick, so we at The Cabinet armed with Nick’s Tall Tales created a bottle and box that celebrated the epic journey of this Rum cask finished Lagavulin with crafted illustrations of mythic beasts and battles, an array of tactile finishes and luster as well as Nick’s heroic image.