The Straight Up Features :
Deerstalker Single Malt Scotch

I seem to be getting into the habit of trying to review alcohols while gathering little or no information about them from online sources, which is perhaps a good thing, in the end. First, it will encourage me to acquire resources more accurate and detailed than the internet, and secondly, it perhaps suggests that I’m managing to find things slightly more obscure than your average pick of the litter bottles, the sort of alcohol that doesn't have an online presence. I mean, not that I’m reviewing some ten bottle single batch from lower Mongolia or anything, but maybe I’m starting to hit that good middle ground where people can still find it locally but haven’t, until now, been encouraged to purchase it.

Anyway, let me tell you the story of the alcohol that started it all. In retrospect, this should have been my first review, but by the time I started this website other liquors were at the forefront of my thoughts. So the tribute to the alcohol that really turned me into a straight up drinker is belated. Belated, but not ignored, and it is with great pleasure that I tell of the events that led to my conversion.

There is a lounge here in Fayetteville known as the San Francisco Club (attached to the restaurant Uncle Gaylord’s, for those of you so fortunate as to have the opportunity to put this knowledge to use, and that’s Fayetteville, Arkansas, not South Carolina.) It’s the only thing in Fayetteville (that I know of) that could be described as a real ‘lounge’ outside of the horrid bars housed in our more affluent hotels. All things considered, it’s a really really nice place, nice leather couches, excellent bar, quiet atmosphere and excellent alcohol. I have mixed feelings about its popularity, since it’s one of the best places in town and yet none of the sad, worthless retards that are the majority of our college student, frat boy and hipster population frequent it. On the other hand, my rational mind reminds me that this is a GOOD thing, because if they were going there then I wouldn’t, but all things considered it’s one of those classic cases of true quality being hidden and overlooked.

At one time, although this time has now passed, the bar was generally tended by a bartender who, though her name now eludes me, was billed as the ‘friendliest bartender ever’, and it was not an entirely unfounded title. She was happy, energetic and interesting, and was the only bartender that I was ever comfortable with having choose my drinks for me.

This was all due to one event that happened the very first night I ever visited the bar. A small group of friends and I had met to check the place out and in a fit of ‘throwing caution to the wind and trying new things’ we had all decided to let this friendly woman pick out our drinks for us. For each person she recommended a particular mix, until she came to me and said, "You’re a straight scotch drinker, I can tell." Now, I was a mixer at the time, and had never in my life tried straight scotch, but I was in a curious mood, so I accepted the glass of straight, room temperature scotch with a dubious look and some mild reservations. And that scotch....grew up to be president of the United States....no, wait, that scotch....was Deerstalker.

And it changed me forever. I took one sip and was hooked. It overwhelmed me and I couldn’t for the life of me understand why I’d been watering down my liquor all this time. The best way I can describe it is this. I have a moderate fear of heights (despite my constant rooftop ordeals) that can, under certain circumstances, flair up. One such instance was a time when I scaled to the top of a six story scaffolding. Now, scaffolding scares me. It’s thin, rickety and constructed by incompetent, filthy HUMANS, so by story three of climbing up this shaking, noisy thing I was already a little panicked. By the time I reached the top, I was no longer rational. My heart was racing and I was terrified. I could only think about getting down before I DIED and scrambled back down post haste. Of course, when I reached the bottom, the terror was gone, but worse, so was all memory of it. I couldn’t figure out why I’d panicked. I couldn’t understand why I’d been afraid. It seemed entirely absurd, like it hadn’t even been me at all. After my first glass of Deerstalker, this was much how I felt about mixed drinks.

I ordered another glass and in moments my body radiated with the glow that only truly good whiskey can bring to it. This was the initiation, the transformation, and from my cocoon sprang a scotch snob wannabee, as well as a person who had to go back and try EVERY alcohol straight. And, well, this portion of my website is the logical result.

Now, about the scotch itself. Deerstalker appears to be a product of Balmenach, a north Highland distillery, although to be honest, the information was kind of sparse. In fact, as near as I can tell, Balmenach has kind of a shaky recent history, and there might not be many more bottles of this stuff coming, especially since the distillery was mothballed in ’93. Even so, bottles are still available here and there.

I’d say that of all the alcohol I’ve thus far reviewed, Deerstalker was the roughest. For those of you really looking for a good Scottish bite, Deerstalker has it. From the initial moment it touches the tip of your tongue to the five minute period afterwards, you think, but can’t absolutely confirm, that you’ve swallowed it all. The liquor burn lingers, but oh how I loved it, right from the start. Deerstalker heats you right up, and after a couple of glasses, you wouldn’t notice if you were dipped in a frozen pond for a few minutes. Add to this an incredible rich single malt flavor, just a heady, full, "I’m here to make mouths numb, numb like Novocain makes them numb" flavor, topped with a ‘singe your mustache’ aroma, Deerstalker gives you fair warning that you’re not dealing with a light weight. But it’s still delicious, and for the short period of time you can taste anything, the flavor of simple, strongly brewed malt will be your bestest friend. Deerstalker, to me, embodies the flavor that people like the Scottish probably developed in order to provide a quick way to distinguish themselves from other people like, say, the Welch.

I have yet to find a bottle of this on the shelves of our admittedly fairly routine liquor stores around here. Indeed, outside of the San Fransisco club, I haven’t found any at all, and from what little I found on the web, it’s running out quick. Still, hunt around, and if you can find it, grab it. It can be ordered online, so you can grab a bottle that way, too.

Key facts about Deerstalker :

Alcohol Content : 45%. This stuff is for dreary late fall and winter days.

Price (.750) : $50. It's not cheap, and I suspect it's not about to get cheaper. Still, if you're buying scotch at all, this is probably a dollar figure you've gotten used to.

Notes : If you don't like alcohol burn, stay away. However, if you like the afterglow of scotch, then you've found exactly what you're looking for. This is the scotch of those who search for pure, unfettered scotch.

Final Standing : Soused.