Arrived in Midleton sitting in Mad Monk’s Bar with an Irish coffee, awaiting my appointment with a Tasting Tour at Jameson’s Irish Whiskey Distillery. Been looking forward to this. The weather has been very sunny and cool the last couple of days. A couple of different older local gentleman have attributed that to my presence for some reason. Funny thing is I had the same experience 7 years ago when I was last in Ireland, so maybe they are on to something. Came back to my room last night after the bars had closed. Exhausted now and here I am waiting for whiskey! The places some local twentysomethings took me to were all very laid back, atmospheric but modern, cocktail bars. When I was here last everyone drank Guinness as the default drink. This time I’ve noticed a change. Younger folks prefer cider, especially the craft ones, and cocktails. I guess Brooklyn crossed the Atlantic. Accordingly they have also rediscovered Irish Whiskey. There is a plethora of craft whiskeys being created in Cork, and throughout Ireland. I was hoping to visit a craft cidery, which are also mushrooming throughout the country, but alas none seem to be open to the public. So I guess I’ll just have to settle for a flight of Jameson’s then. Slainte!
(Later) A flight of Jameson’s hit the spot. Tried something from the 4 brands that they create. Of course my favorite was one that was 155 Euros a bottle! If you do the Jameson Experience I highly recommend the whiskey tasting afterwards. Everyone who does the basic tour gets one free whiskey. I got mine in some traditional cocktail they offer, then I was escorted with my drink to a private tasting room where 4 nice pours of whiskey were placed in front of you, and a guide to tell you about the craft of each whiskey. The smells were intoxicating in and of themselves. A couple from Baltimore, Maryland sat next to me. It’s a small world since I call that place my home away from home. (As of 2018, now home). I joked with them that Jameson’s should market a cologne derived from whiskeys, maybe I would have better luck with love! Although quite touristy of course, the whole thing seemed more authentic than the Guinness Storehouse tour I took in Dublin. Maybe it’s just the nature of beer verses whiskey. The whiskey tour was a lot less crowded, more sophisticated, and I suppose just more my taste. Not that there was anything wrong with the Guinness experience. I enjoyed my brew with a view and some mu(sic). (Hear the rhyme?… bad I know). However, this bourbon lover better appreciates the craft of producing its Irish cousin.
When I arrived back in Cork, I went to a restaurant and decided to sit at the bar as I was eating and drinking alone. Next to me was a young American woman who was being hit on by some handsome local lad. She was a bit, shall I say flighty, and he was feeling, shall I say amorous. Overhearing the conversation was painful as an American because he was quite eloquent and she was a bad Kardashian stereotype. At one point he offered to drive her to her hotel and she refused, not because of propriety but because she said he drove “wrongly”. She was not happy that the Irish drove “on the wrong side of the road”. With tongue in cheek, he said he did drive on the right side of the road, meaning correct side. She did not pick up his wordplay at first (of course), but when she did she became incensed. She said America is right & Ireland is wrong. What flirting skills! He asked how so? She said since America invented driving we were right. I nearly spit out my drink and the bartender, knowing I’m American, just glared at me. I might be an American, but I’m also of Irish heritage and sarcastic wit is in my blood. Without missing a beat I said loudly “She is right, didn’t you know Germany is part of the United States?” (The first car was built by Benz Motorwagen). Her Irish suitor smiled at me. The young woman was confused, what was so funny, I agreed with her…what? The best reaction was from the bartender though, who immediately collapsed behind the bar laughing hysterically. I guess he did not expect the quiet American to say that. A few minutes later the restaurant manager stopped by on her dinner break. The bartender told her to sit next to me, that I might be a tourist but that I was definitely Irish and very entertaining. He recounted the scenario to her and commended my “Irish sarcasm”. Then he bought shots of a local craft Irish whiskey for me and the unfortunate Irish suitor. His manager then instructed him to give me my bill right then, because the rest of the night I drink for free. I love Irish Hospitality. Slainte!