I was so dreading yesterday.
I've lived my whole life with powerful memories (accurate or not) of the men on my mother's side of the family drinking Cutty Sark. For the most part, they were all Bostonian, Jewish, and executive shoe salesmen, so I'm not sure what combination of those things had an affinity with Cutty Sark, but I got the impression that that scotch ran deep in that part of the family. I have fond memories (accurate or not) of my grandfather, Poppy, drinking Cutty Sark every evening when I stayed with my grandparents during the summer when I was like 5 and 6. Poppy tragically died a few years later, but my grandmother continued to keep the Cutty Sark, Johnnie Walker, Drambui, and other Scottish liquors proudly displayed in her dining/living room, and I always thought of Poppy when I saw them.
So including Cutty Sark, which is probably the coolest sounding brand name in the world, in my diet was an obligatory rite of passage, but when I tried Cutty Sark earlier this week, it tasted so horribly bitter that I couldn't even finish half of the .08 cup and I almost threw up. But with all the personal baggage of this scotch, I had to find a way to power through it yesterday. Amazingly, my first dram in the morning tasted fine. Good, even. My earlier experience was Grant's followed by Cutty Sark, which was clearly a very bad sequence (for me). I went on to drink nothing but Cutty Sark all day, not watered down or anything, and I believe that part of my family's honor and tradition has been preserved.
Thanks, Poppy et al, for the deep-rooted emotional attachment.
What I consumed yesterday:
● Trader Joes No Iron Multivitamin
● 2.5 cups Cutty Sark
● 4 baby carrots
● 2 bites frosted sugar cookie
● Red Robin Ensenada chicken platter (1 breast)
● .3 Red Robin bbq bacon cheeseburger
● 15 Rold Gold tiny twist pretzels w/ Jif peanut butter
No comments:
Post a Comment