True Story: I’m in London last September for a business trip to see a couple clients, meet my colleagues in the office and travel with my new boss. The first evening of the trip is for internal meetings, meeting colleagues I had not met before and building camaraderie with them. Part of my job was to not get too drunk and look professional. My tolerance happens to be extremely high compared to most of my colleagues, so not getting too drunk wasn’t an impossibility, however the professional aspect may have been slightly derailed because of some BTAC… at this point I had not owned any BTAC bottles (that changed later that Fall when BTAC hunting season began and my obsession on this blog expanded)….
I was at a bar with some colleagues that was selling Pappy 10, 12, 13, and George T Stagg, per pour, for less that I could buy it for on the secondary market in the states. So… I ended up with three pours of bourbon in front of me during dinner. Not the best way to impress colleagues, but I had never had Lot B, Pappy Rye or Stagg before, so emotions (understandably to you reading this blog, although not to those at the table) overtook me.
By the end of the night, I managed to not get too drunk and we all parted ways. After leaving the restaurant and all the hand shaking, I did a u-turn back to the bar and entered negotiations with the bartender. The bottle was 1/4 full and I did the math and negotiated to buy the rest of it for less than 1/4 of a full bottle would cost me back at home. My boss, smarter, soberer, sneakier than I, followed me back to the bar, scolded me, and forced me to return to the hotel before I inflict too much damage to myself, knowing that in addition to buying this bottle, I probably was going to try every other unicorn for pour that night. (Side Note: good thing he did, because I probably would have stayed there for a couple hours and really did myself in. He’s quite a good boss and almost always knows what’s best for the firm and his employees, myself included, even if it’s more fun to keep drinking.)
Which leads me to today… after many small pours over six months, this bottle is finally being put to rest. And I will be giving it a review today as well.
George T. Stagg, 2014 UK edition, 138.1 proof: dark amber with tiny bits of charcoal floating in it, at least for the final pour. Camp fire fresh s’mores on the nose with candied butterscotch, overbaked brown sugar carrots, raisin bread toast with light butter spreaded on it topped with cinnamon and sugar, and a touch of cloves. For 69.05% alcohol, the burn on the nose is very manageable. The first thing you get when you take a sip is the extremely thick mouthfeel which just makes me so happy. The uncut/unfiltered texture is a delight and everything about the taste is interesting, complex and it goes on and on. The first sip I had months ago was very good, but the last sip was the best. Maybe it is because there is more charcoal in the final pour or maybe it’s because I’ve already had a few drinks tonight. All I know is that I wished I kept my trumpet from high school, because this moment deserves someone playing Taps. This was a great drink and I’m sad to see it finished, but there are many more bottles that need drinking, and I know I’m the man to do it. 97/100.