Fine Whisky and Suburban Sprawl

We were in Jacksonville, surrounded by sprawl, traveling on endless highways or six-lane roads, lined with one strip center after another. More KFCs and fast food establishments than the mind could comprehend. And somewhere in the middle of all that sprawl sits an enormous outdoor mall, designed as an ersatz village, with phony storefronts, and cheesy little town squares. And picture us in those surroundings, while the gals were all shopping, trying to find someplace to drink good whisky. What chance did we have for that?

We looked in three or four restaurants, probably all chain restaurants, with the same generic bar, each featuring the usual blended scotches and maybe a lone bottle of Livet for the cognoscenti. Nothing doing, until we peeked into PF Chang’s. Now figure this. Here we are in a shopping mall of epic proportions, checking out the bar at a chain restaurant, an Asian restaurant to boot. And what did we see behind the bar at Chang’s? Nothing less than the full compliment of Glenmorangies and Macallans, and maybe ten or twelve other malts besides. We quickly found a couple seats at the bar, and glanced through the whisky listing.

Chang’s bar carried the hard-to-find Macallan 17, my new flavor of the month, not to mention its pricier cousin, the 21. But wanting to start more modestly, John ordered a glass of Glenmorangie finished in Madeira casks, and we watched as our bartender poured one, two, three and maybe more ounces of whisky into the tumbler, a huge pour, at a rather reasonable price to boot. I’ve had a number of the Glens finished in wine casks, and although they are interesting, they can quickly become tiresome. Not so this Madeira finish; a bit drier and less cloying than the port or burgundy finish, the Madeira flavor being more subtle, less overpowering. Glenmorangie is a delicate malt, and it’s easy for the wine finish to overwhelm the understated characteristics of the whisky. This was a fine choice on John’s part.

But it only whetted our appetite for the main course, another enormous pour, this time the Macallan 17. There’s nothing new to add to my recent posting; G-man and I shared the 17 at Keen’s last week. But just in case I was wondering whether the atmosphere at Keen’s, or the good fellowship of hanging out with G-man, or the anticipation of Keen's fabulous porterhouse steak, had influenced my perceptions, this visit to PF Chang’s set those concerns to rest. Here we were in the midst of sprawl, surrounded by suburban shoppers all engaged in conspicuous consumption and still the Macallan 17 was breathtaking. There was nothing in the ambiance that could possibly have contributed to our enjoyment; this was all about the whisky. And right now, certainly for the modest price we paid at PF Chang’s, it’s difficult to imagine a more enjoyable drink.