I think most folks here know that I don’t drink alcohol and never have. However, I have friends who do, and one of them, my pal Deven Desai, is out here visiting my family for Thanksgiving. He’s partial to a good Scotch whisky, so when he arrived, I presented him with one that I had heard some very good things about: the Master of Malt Single Cask 19 Year Old Tomatin (Cask Strength). Words like “astonishing,” “magnificent” and “astounding” were in the various recommendations I’d seen, which seemed encouraging, so I was willing to take a chance on it and give it to Deven to try out.
I’m happy to say he was extremely pleased with the whisky, and his recommendation of it is couched in terms that science fiction fans will especially appreciate: “This approximates what Romulan ale ought to be,” he said. And, well. There you have it.
This observation was followed by the following, slightly fictionalized conversation:
Deven: Mind you, it’s not blue, like Romulan Ale is supposed to be.
Me: We could fix that if you’d like.
Deven: No. We couldn’t.
Me: Sure we could. We’ve got blue food coloring.
Deven: Don’t make me stab you.
So: Master of Malt Single Cask 19 Year Old Tomatin (Cask Strength). Not blue. But very very good.
Small supplementary anecdote: Athena was watching Deven and Krissy enjoy the whisky and wanted to know if I was interested in trying even just a little of it. I told her that even if I did, it wouldn’t have anywhere near the same reaction. When you don’t drink alcohol at all, you can’t taste the difference between the good stuff and the bad stuff. It all pretty much comes across as iodine to me. It would literally be a waste of excellent Scotch whisky to give any of it to me.



The Blatherations of Others