Ted Loves Kitty
Before last night’s game, I took my friend Ted to Kitty Hoyne’s in Armory Square. Now Ted is Irish by descent, so perhaps was predisposed to enjoy Kitty’s many virtues. But I was pleased to see that not only did he enjoy himself, he practically fell in love.
We arrived early; and neither the pregame crowd, nor those who had finished work, and needed refreshment before heading home, had filled up the place yet. So having our choice of seats, we took two stools at the bar and asked for a whisky menu. Ted, being an observant lad, noticed the many taps only a couple feet from where we sat; and before we even had a chance to decide on some malts, he order a Guinness to get started.
I figured the wise thing to do was to stay with the Irish theme, so we asked for a couple of pot still Irish malts – Red Breast for Ted, and Jameson’s 12 for me. These two whiskies are actually very similar in character -- smooth drinking, very flavorful, and just a tad sweet from having aged in sherry casks. A fine way to get kick off the evening. I explained John’s theory that Irish whisky is the affordable alternative to single malt scotch, when one is traveling, and finds oneself at, for example, a hotel bar in midtown Manhattan, or a fancy eatery in Toronto. Those places will soak you for a tiny pour of scotch, simply because scotch whiskies, especially single malts, are associated with business guys on expense accounts. Who cares what the price is, just let’s have a glass of that Macallan. By contrast, Irish whisky carries less status, and is more apt to be ordered by your average whisky lover, and not some executive looking to impress his date. Still, Ted was knocked out by the quality of these malts, and it’s very hard to find fault with either one of them, both 12 years old, and both comparable to highland malts of a similar age.
Now that our thirsts had been quenched, we ordered dinner, and once again Ted was thoroughly impressed. He had shepherd’s pie, a traditional pub dish, and proclaimed it far superior to the shepherd’s pie he usually orders at some famous Manhattan hangout. So by now, the whisky was great; the food was great; and who can complain about Guinness? But we saved the best for last. After dinner I had our bar maid bring a glass of Connemara, the peated Irish malt. One glass to share. But God bless him, Ted fell head over heels for Connemara, never having tasted peated whisky before. When we finished that first glass, he had to have one for himself. He proclaimed everything about Kitty’s as perfect – the atmosphere, the selection of beers and whiskies, the food, and the prices. If we didn’t have basketball tickets, and weren’t ninety miles from home, we might not have left for another several hours.
As it was, however, we had some time before tip-off, and to give Ted the full Armory Square introduction, I took him over to the Blue Tusk, where no fewer than 69 beers are on tap. We picked a couple of Middle Ages products, wanting to support the local brewery, and were both pleased with our choices -- Duke of Winship porter for me, and Wailing Wench IPA for Ted. While standing at the bar, and enjoying our beer, we took notice of the Tusk’s selection of whiskies. Their inventory may not compare to Kitty’s, but it’s more extensive than most pubs or bars outside of Armory square. Recalling that Ted loved the peated taste of Connemara, I asked for a glass of Lagavulin. After all, if it’s peated whisky you’re after, is there anything better than Lagavulin? The answer is no. And what better way to end an evening of pub hopping, and whisky sampling, than with a glass of the very same Islay malt that first got me hooked on the whole single malt business? I just can’t wait until G-Man comes to the Cuse.
We arrived early; and neither the pregame crowd, nor those who had finished work, and needed refreshment before heading home, had filled up the place yet. So having our choice of seats, we took two stools at the bar and asked for a whisky menu. Ted, being an observant lad, noticed the many taps only a couple feet from where we sat; and before we even had a chance to decide on some malts, he order a Guinness to get started.
I figured the wise thing to do was to stay with the Irish theme, so we asked for a couple of pot still Irish malts – Red Breast for Ted, and Jameson’s 12 for me. These two whiskies are actually very similar in character -- smooth drinking, very flavorful, and just a tad sweet from having aged in sherry casks. A fine way to get kick off the evening. I explained John’s theory that Irish whisky is the affordable alternative to single malt scotch, when one is traveling, and finds oneself at, for example, a hotel bar in midtown Manhattan, or a fancy eatery in Toronto. Those places will soak you for a tiny pour of scotch, simply because scotch whiskies, especially single malts, are associated with business guys on expense accounts. Who cares what the price is, just let’s have a glass of that Macallan. By contrast, Irish whisky carries less status, and is more apt to be ordered by your average whisky lover, and not some executive looking to impress his date. Still, Ted was knocked out by the quality of these malts, and it’s very hard to find fault with either one of them, both 12 years old, and both comparable to highland malts of a similar age.
Now that our thirsts had been quenched, we ordered dinner, and once again Ted was thoroughly impressed. He had shepherd’s pie, a traditional pub dish, and proclaimed it far superior to the shepherd’s pie he usually orders at some famous Manhattan hangout. So by now, the whisky was great; the food was great; and who can complain about Guinness? But we saved the best for last. After dinner I had our bar maid bring a glass of Connemara, the peated Irish malt. One glass to share. But God bless him, Ted fell head over heels for Connemara, never having tasted peated whisky before. When we finished that first glass, he had to have one for himself. He proclaimed everything about Kitty’s as perfect – the atmosphere, the selection of beers and whiskies, the food, and the prices. If we didn’t have basketball tickets, and weren’t ninety miles from home, we might not have left for another several hours.
As it was, however, we had some time before tip-off, and to give Ted the full Armory Square introduction, I took him over to the Blue Tusk, where no fewer than 69 beers are on tap. We picked a couple of Middle Ages products, wanting to support the local brewery, and were both pleased with our choices -- Duke of Winship porter for me, and Wailing Wench IPA for Ted. While standing at the bar, and enjoying our beer, we took notice of the Tusk’s selection of whiskies. Their inventory may not compare to Kitty’s, but it’s more extensive than most pubs or bars outside of Armory square. Recalling that Ted loved the peated taste of Connemara, I asked for a glass of Lagavulin. After all, if it’s peated whisky you’re after, is there anything better than Lagavulin? The answer is no. And what better way to end an evening of pub hopping, and whisky sampling, than with a glass of the very same Islay malt that first got me hooked on the whole single malt business? I just can’t wait until G-Man comes to the Cuse.
posted by pops | 10:46 PM
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