Great Scott’s 2010

Our recent weekend in NY was, not surprisingly, a perfect occasion for visiting one of the family’s favorite overeating and drinking establishments, Keens Chophouse. The general theme of an evening at Keens is – everything in excess. The hell with moderation. And to enable us to do that more effectively, more definitively, we met our cousins, the Rothenbergs – Steve and Marsha, Delilah and Spencer, and Tiffany & Matt.

Naturally, we began the evening in the bar, but only John and I partook of before-dinner malts. I had an Arran, ten year old, and John had a Benromach. Honestly, without tasting notes, I can no longer remember much about them, other than we were both pleased with our choices. Arran is one of the youngest distilleries, and when I first began drinking malts, I recall buying a bottle without age statement, that tasted a lot like a lowland malt. Light, grassy, a bit floral even. This malt was more full bodied, but still light for a highland. I think it’s a good choice for 5 pm, or even earlier. I’ll let John fill in with a comment on his Benromach.

Because there were twelve of us, Keens couldn’t accommodate us downstairs and we ended up at a round table in the back of the second floor. It was the first time I had ever sat upstairs at Keens, and I have to say we were not at all disappointed. The room was full; in fact all the upstairs rooms were full. The place was packed, which surprised me, it being a summer Saturday, and nothing was on at the Garden. Returning to the theme of excess, we promptly ordered a couple of those huge seafood medleys, loaded down with littlenecks, crab meat, oysters, mussels, you name it. They disappeared in a hurry. Then we followed with two enormous porterhouse (what else?) cooked to perfection, a mutton chop, every side that we could think of, and a big plate of tomatoes for Delilah, who abstains from eating meat. Poor thing. Cousin Steve was worried that there would not be enough to eat, but in the end, even the twelve of us could not quite polish off the meat. We noticed that after carving the steaks, Keens throws the bones back in the broiler, so the meat we later carved off the bone might have been the best thing anyone ate all night. We washed it all down with three bottles of a Ridge zinfandel blend; Ridge now being a sentimental family favorite, because we drank it with Helen at her last birthday bash, another steakhouse extravaganza at the Salt Rock Grill in St. Pete’s.

Anyway, and here’s the point of this rambling post, after dinner we shared a flight – the new Great Scott’s. That’s always been an interesting flight for a few reasons. One, they pick malts from different regions, so there is good variety in the flight. Two, they usually stray off the beaten path, allowing us to drink obscure whiskies. And lastly, they like to include a couple old malts on this flight. The new twist was that most of the flight was cask strength whisky.

We started with a 20 year old Bladnoch – cask strength. We love Bladnoch, so a great way to take off on this flight. I recall that the nose wasn’t quite as floral as some Bladnoch we’ve tasted, and I don’t think I’ve ever had a full strength Baldnoch previously. This was followed by a 14 year old Bruichladdich. Laddie being another family favorite, we were hitting two for two at this point. Now here’s the problem: the last two malts were again cask strength, and after all that wine and whisky, and without tasting notes to refresh my recollection, I can’t really recall much of anything about these two. With one exception. Unbelievably long finishes. The third whisky was a 26 year old Glen Mohr. What we didn’t know at the time, was that the Glen Mohr distillery was closed in 1986; and not just closed, but demolished. How many extinct malts have was sampled at Keens? And why didn’t we know this at the time we drank it? Oh well. We finished the flight with a 35 year old Longmorn. What I remember here was that, as I mentioned earlier, the finish went on and on.

But alas, even if the finishes on these malts went on forever, the evening eventually drew to a close, unless one was young. John, Amanda, Tiff and Matt went out afterward, I think to the Flatiron Lounge, for classic cocktails. We walked back to the east side, and fell unconscious into bed. It’s funny: we were in NY for no special reason other than to spend time with the kids, even though Susan and Steve cooked up this fairy tale that we were celebrating my birthday. Everyone knows I don’t give a shit about my birthday, but the fact is that any evening at Keens somehow turns into a special occasion. And where else could you find that many Rothenbergs in one locations?