Husband LOVES whiskey. I’ve been trying to get myself to like it. After all, I didn’t like beer or wine the first few times I tried them either, and look how that turned out. But for some reason, I can’t stomach whiskey. Every time I drink it, I make the most awful face, and usually a very strange noise as well. It might be a lost cause, OR like running, it could be an ongoing project. In either case, one of Husband’s Christmas present from my grandmother was this:
Apparently there is a distillery in Virginia that my grandmother has been to visit several times. She loves it there! She is quite taken with the process, and she thoughtfully remembered that Husband loves this
icky stuff and sent him some. I’ve tried it three times now, and it is probably some of the strongest tasting liquid I’ve ever had. I will never stop in my quest to love whiskey, though, because one finger of whiskey is a heck of a lot fewer calories than a couple glasses of wine!