Whiskey Manners
Order without embarrassment
I’m currently slaving away on a feature for the magazine about Oregon-made whiskeys, so a large part of my work day of late has been taken up with research. High-level analysis of aroma, taste, finish, and secondary characteristics cannot be rushed, my friends. So it is with a single-minded zeal found only in the most devoted of lunatics that I sit here sipping whiskey from morn till quitting time. And then I spin around in my chair really fast to heighten the experience. Hey, you have your research methods, and I have mine.
During a much-needed break, one of my coworkers posed the following question: “I’d like to try more whiskeys, but I really don’t know where to start. How do you order it without sounding like a sap? And what’s a good brand to ask for that doesn’t cost a zillion dollars?”
Fair enough.
Since there are all kinds of whiskeys, each with its own nifty flavor profile, it will take some experimenting to find your comfort zone. And while it’s true that a good single malt scotch like Talisker or Balvenie is best savored neat, a couple ice cubes is always a good idea with Irish whiskeys such as Bushmills or Jamesons. Don’t let anyone tell you that a few chunks of ice is going to “dilute” the whiskey. I’ve found that light ice is a time-release flavor enhancer. The first few sips will basically reveal the true essence of the spirit, and the gradual melting slowly adds a little more water to the mix, which brings out different aromas and flavors. You really can’t go wrong ordering whiskey on the rocks or with just a splash of water. I usually request the brand with light rocks, as in, “Bushmills. Light rocks.” Try it! Remember, whiskey is meant for slow sipping; each nuance of flavor is an uncharted island that demands exploration.
For bourbon, which is primarily a corn base with vanilla grace notes, I like Eagle Rare, Woodford’s Reserve (pricey!), Booker’s, or Blanton’s. None of these (other than Woodford’s) should unduly stress out your wallet. And of course, there’s the Portlander’s default drink, Maker’s and soda.
And thanks to a timely tip from my brother Dave, I am also enjoying George Dickel 12, a really tasty—and modestly priced—Tennessee whiskey that manages a delicate balance of smoke and sweet.
OK drinking buddies, the subject is whiskey. What are your favorites, and how do you take it?
Tags: Whiskey



Wild Turkey! 80 proof. By the way, I want your job.
Bulleit Bourbon, usually in a hot toddy. Sacrilege?
I am a bourbon drinker.
I drink Ezra Brooks at home.
Great taste, great value.
Knob Creek a nice treat when rich.
Pendleton also great for an upscale local.
Due to a wheat allergy, I don’t drink whiskey. However, I hear a great deal about a brand called Johnnie Walker. So, I went to their website (http://us.johnniewalker.com). They have five different labels (or blends), plus cocktail recipes for each. Who knew? One such recipe is the Red Label Zinger (Red Label being their most affordable blend). This one calls for 1.5 ounces of Johnnie Walker Red, 2 ounces of ginger ale, and a twist of lemon. Or, if you want something sweeter, there’s the Golden Blossom. 1 ounce Johnnie Walker Gold, 1/2 ounce orange liqueur, 1/2 ounce honey, 1/2 ounce cream, orange peel, and a splash of blood orange bitters.
Can we explore this theme of ordering without embarrassment a bit more? Your only advice was to try saying “Bushmills. Light rocks.” From this I draw the conclusion that it is best to be brief, direct, monosyllabic, and quick about it – as though absolutely certain of what you want, and utterly confident that the bartender will know WTF you are talking about. What exactly are the social penalties for hesitation or inexperience? Will the bartender shun you if you mispronounce “drambuie” or “nalewka?” And if so, how large of a tip must you slide over to win back his favor? And what of the other patrons? How loudly will they laugh if you ask for “whatever has cranberry juice in it?” How quickly will your chances of getting laid evaporate if you can’t make up your mind what to order? All you have done is recommend a few specific whiskey brands. The subtitle of this article gives the impression that there is some hope after all for those who lack the experience to name their poison, yet would like to taste something new and interesting without feeling foolish about it. It reminds me of being a teenager looking for your first job. No one will hire you without experience, yet how do you get experience unless somebody hires you? The humiliation of it all is unbearable. You would think society would encourage curiosity, so that a wider variety of beverages could be marketed. But instead, society expects us all to be John Wayne, striding up to the bar and demanding the usual from an unblinking barkeep, as though this unquestioned transaction defines some sort of rock solid place for us in the world. So please steer us, Bar Pilot, through the rocky jetties of uncertainty, and follow through a bit more on your promise that we can order without embarrassment. How to bluff one’s way through ordering an unknown drink without betraying the uncertainty that will destroy one’s social life for the entire rest of the evening?
Good point X. You know how when you go to a record store and you completely space out what it was, specifically, you were looking for? That’s the way that many of us feel when the waiter or bartender, a busy person to be sure, hovers nearby waiting for us to spit out our drink order.
I carry a lengthy list in my wallet of albums I’m always looking for so as to have some ideas when I arrive at Music Millennium. You can do the same with drinks. Carry a list of drinks you think you’d like to try, and if you don’t care for them, cross ‘em off the list. You can have a self-effacing, icebreaker laugh with your friends as you explain your own feelings of being lost at sea when it comes to cocktails, or you can be sly and just peek at the list in clandestine fashion. Either way, you’re gold.
Oh, and needless to say, if you’re brief, direct, monosyllabic, and quick about it, your friends and any potential lovers within earshot will automatically recognize you as a gentleman of distinction—and most likely a sex panther in the sack. Woo! Woo!
Well, I don’t know about this brief, direct, monosyllabic tactic. I tend to view this sort of approach as ape-like; even a sign of a person who sticks to what’s safe and worked last time rather than being curious and trying-something-new-even-if-it-makes-him-look-like-a-dork. But I enjoy dorkiness. PS I adore Laphroaig, neat. In a bar, though, I usually order a fluffy pink drink! I’m looking forward to reading the article and, well, expanding my scotch options.
Again, good point Katushka.
In my case, I try to be brief and direct because during my formative drinking years, I was usually out with a lot of service industry folks—waiters, waitress, bartenders—and they assured me that there is a special place in hell for customers who hem and haw and waste the server’s valuable time because they don’t know what to order.
But you are certainly correct in your opinion on the merits of being open and curious about ordering new drinks. I’m suggesting we all do a little homework and come in prepared, rather than hold up the process of getting plowed—er, uh, I mean, enjoying a refreshing cocktail with good friends—because we’re at a loss for what to order. Even turning to a friend and asking, “What are you having?” is perfectly acceptable.
How about this smooth line: “I want to try a bourbon that I haven’t had before. What’s your favorite?” Only works when you’re flush, though, because it doesn’t sound as urbane to say, “What’s your favorite for under $4?”
You don’t even mention Canadian Whisky (without the e) and Hood River Distiller’s fine Pendleton Whisky!
Ah, a subject near and dear to my heart. Personally, my favorite way to enjoy whiskey/bourbon is in a Manhattan. Also, at the risk of branding myself a heretic, I’m not above ordering a whiskey and Coke; often with Jack or Beam, but sometimes Jameson or Bulleit if I’m feeling sassy. Then there’s always light rocks, as the author suggests. I usually save that for the nicer brands (starting with Jameson, on up through Maker’s, Knob Creek, Eagle Rare, etc). I stay away from Bushmills; that’s Protestant whiskey.