Fifty shades of ennui.
Fifty shades of ennui.
RTÉ’s Mary ‘Benjamin Button’ Kennedy and Marty ‘Martyred Saint’ Whelan abduct a child to celebrate St Valentine’s Day some time back. God be with the days when you could do this sort of thing, now the PC police would be all ‘child protection this’ and ‘WTF that’. Back in the 1990s you could buy a bouquet of posies and a naked human child for as little as one of your Irish púnts.
Ever wanted to try a full-bodied 30-year-old? On Valentine’s Night? Course you didn’t! Anyway:
There’s one idea that’s been percolating in Bompas & Parr’s collective consciousness for a little while now but has lain dormant while we considered the practical and ethical considerations of hosting an anatomical whisky tasting. This involves a fine, 25-year-old single malt paired with a 25-year-old performer, 30-year-old spirits with a 30-year-old and onwards, up to august, rare 50-year-old drams coupled with a half-century-old partner.
What makes it anatomical? The spirits will be drunk from the natural contours of the performers’ bodies, each born the same year the liquid was put in a cask.
There are gustatory and intellectual benefits to the practice, The heat of the body will raise the temperature of the whisky, helping to showcase the flavours as guests form a uniquely intimate bond with the performers.
Visit the Ace Hotel London Shoreditch on Valentine’s Day, Saturday, 14th February to use your tongue to explore the fancy body-shot and reflect on the implications of ageing of spirits and humanity alike.
Of course, older spirits are typically seen as more desirable. So there’s recompense for the fact that you are sipping your 50-year-old whisky from the naval of a half-century-old Hell’s Angel (well, that’s how we envisage it at least)!
Each performer will furthermore be asked to tell the compelling story of their life – the same length as that of the spirits to being sampled. This will both help elevate the practice of body-shots and grasp the full magnitude of the years the spirit has lain in cask, slowly gaining in complexity and maturity.
Because nothing says ‘exciting Valentine’s night out’ like sucking hooch out of the crevices of a 40-something in a hotel function room with 30 other demented weirdoes.
Just don’t order a 12-year-old single malt.