This evening I was lamenting a lacking.... the home is bare of good whiskey, of any kind. It may have been the first time in a year or two that could have been said.
Contemplating this sad situation while enjoying a Churchhill outside under the porch roof.... I recalled THAT bottle. Oh... yes.... I had all but forgotten that one.
Back in the frosty grip of a Winter snow storm, I had the thought to experiment. In a tall and narrow bottle, I placed a largish handful of very high quality roast Blue Mountain coffee beans. These I covered with good bourbon, and the bottle was corked and set away.
A month or so later, when something magical had clearly happened in the bottle, it was uncorked and the bourbon poured off. The beans were removed, the bottle washed, and the bourbon re-installed with a top off. A mere teaspoon of clover honey was added as well, to counter bitterness from the full strength beans. Once again corked, it has been on the shelf for months..... till now.
Now, I relax with a glass of this strangely entrancing spirit by my side. An ice cube or two graces the crystal glass, and two fingers of the bourbon in all it's dark golden glory.
This, my friends.... bears repeating.