I am happy to say I come from a family of drinkers. NOTE: drinker does not equal alcoholic. Not many (any?) alcoholics in our family.
My parents are drinkers, connoisseurs of wine, gin, rum, beer, and occasionally vodka and other spirits.
I am too. Some of these loves are more serious than others.
We love rum, thanks to my parents having lived in Venezuela for several years.
Yum.
I’ve been detoxing for the last 3 weeks, and I do this once a year, but I am not sure I’d ever want to live a 100% alcohol-free lifestyle (unless, say, my life depended on it).
I love rum. Tonight I had the pleasure of trying a specialty rum from Panama, from a private collection — it’s not available for purchase in Singapore. It was beautiful — and I only had two sips… But it was soooooo so so so smooth and beautiful.
I feel similarly about Hendricks gin, or Tanqueray 10, or glasses of Santa Christina (Antinori) wine. Even half a glass can make me a very happy woman. There is such pleasure in the flavours, scents, and textures — it’s just meant to be savoured. (I won’t waste my top-shelf spirits on those who don’t understand this. They’ll get the standard Sapphire or Bacardi gold in their high-ball. This doesn’t make me a bad person.)
Today’s truth is that there is a distinct pleasure and contentedness derived from a discerning palate. This is true whether we are talking about wine, food, art, or … education. Once you know what you know and truly *appreciate it,* it is difficult to consume what you consider to be substandard. In a pinch, it’ll do… but long term? No hope.
