After a long, long, long, hiatus from blogging, I’m back!
I stopped writing about booze for a while to focus on “real work” like being a barista and going to school and writing a novel, which turned into novels (plural) which turned into a bunch of half-baked notes clogging up my Google Docs. Yikes.
“Haha, get it? Because I’m a writer and I’m partly Irish? Get it? …Sweetie?” I quipped to my ever-patient boyfriend. Bless his soul.
The legend goes that Irish writers would use whiskey to cure writer’s block, or to comfort themselves when their writer’s block could not be cured. Then they cried tears of whiskey because they drank so much of it. #relatable
Here are the fast stats about Writer’s Tears:
- Made in Ireland, duh
- It’s been triple distilled
- Made entirely from malted barley!
- Aged in ex-Bourbon casks
- It’s 80 proof
- It cost $45 plus tax at Astor Wines
Now for the tasting notes:
It has a gorgeous amber color, kinda like black tea that’s been steeped a little too long.
In the nose, I get sea salt caramel and a pleasant wood-dust scent, which I attribute either to the barrel or the grain.
The taste is quite reminiscent of a light bourbon. It has a flavor of a melted orange popsicle initially. The more you drink–or should I say, sip–it slowly coats your tongue in a fruity cinnamon spice, like apple pie without the crust.
It’s very easy-drinking, and dangerously-sippable. Because I’d been drinking powerful whiskeys with flavor that punches you in the face and takes an hour to get down, this was a contrast. I was drinking it, and suddenly my glass was empty. And suddenly the bottle’s empty. And suddenly you’ve drank the entire world supply of Writer’s Tears. It’s that smooth. If you’re still not sure about whiskey, try this one. You’ll fall in love with whiskey like you fall asleep after a warm bath.
As far as its power to cure writer’s block, that remains to be seen. Someday I’ll finish those novels, but it might take a little more whiskey.