(Dewars Discovery "Build Your Own Blend" Tasting)
Sifting through my e-mail inbox, I received an invitation from an editor to a Dewar’s Scotch event. Thinking this may perk J in attending with me due to the alcoholic nature, and I’ve gone to my fair share of liquor branded events in Miami,why not give it a go? Oh geez, I forgot how things change when we’re in a recession.
It wasn’t hard baiting two of Jack’s friends to come along, “Scotch? HELL YES!” So our foursome trekked out to an Italian restaurant on Sunset, which I believe was Amarone Kitchen and Wine, but my memory escapes me at the moment. Our dinner consisted of one mission and one mission alone: carb heavy to cushion the aforementioned Scotch. Stuffed to the brim, we were ready to take on some power hour Scotch drinking.
Upon the arrival of the Jim Henson studios, we all kept imagining what the interior would be like, and how Miss Piggy would be sipping scotch right next to us. We entered the magical gates underneath Kermit’s gaze, and to our dismay no muppets could be found. While waiting in line underneath the warmth of a heater, we made friends with the rowdy boys behind us that shared their pocketed whisky with my boys. BYOB, it keeps the party going, or rather starts the pre-party before the event.
Once checked in, each person received a golden token admissible for ONE! Dewar’s drink within the heavily branded Dewar’s lounge. There were 3 options: a mojito with Dewars, Dewars on the Rocks, and the third was completely forgettable. Making the most of my singular token, I went with On the Rocks, easy on the rocks please! Passed hors d’oeuvres tempted guests, but just not us. So I surveyed the scene, super sausage heavy a.k.a. boy heaven for a single lady, if there was to be one in the entire soundstage. After finishing our single drink, which was unusual compared to all the other liquor events I’ve attended, meaning open bar and yes, Stoli had an Ice House where many pillow fights went down. I sweetly persuaded the male bartender, who was from the United States Bartender’s Guild, for another drink which I aptly shared with the boys as they were itching for more.
Finally after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, we were let into a tabled setup, each with a small station of test tubes, Dewars glasses filled with drips of Scotch. While sitting through the Dewars spiel of the brand, the difference between kinds of scotches (single malt, blended), the regions of Scotland, and the flavors that compose a blend; I felt like a schoolgirl impatiently waiting to conduct my experiment. Finally releasing us to the mysterious tubes, they contained each flavor/scent found in their White Label Scotch, and a corresponding vial of actual sweet Scotch nectar. Sweet – Honey, Citrus – Orange Peel, Sweet Again? – Vanilla Bean, Floral – Lavender, and lastly, Smokey – Peat (which the instructor wafted a huge amount directly into Jack’s face, and let me tell you it’s NOT pleasant). After much, sniffing and swirling, we concocted our own blends using our favorite flavors. Learn from my mistakes, Smokey ruins everything. Then you compare your blend to Dewar’s unaged blend, and lastly to the finished product of Dewars White Label. Still fiending for more after paltry little tastes, they presented one last glass of Dewars with a singular ice cube, the way all Scotch should be had.
After herding us out of their hard sell, Dewars gifted each patron with a branded flask. Still on the Jim Henson Studio lot, we were determined to find a muppet or something to photo-op with. Insert, Littlefoot, the Apatosaurus from The Land Before Time, where we wrangled his wild dino ass, then showered him with affection. If only Gonzo were there, imagine all the dirty things I could do to him or perhaps Beaker, I’d meep meep sweet nothings into your little ears. As we left the lot in search of elsewhere to celebrate the rest of Repeal Day, Randy Jackson from American Idol fame, checked my ass out. Oh, just another night in Hollyweird…