I found the memory of maple syrup from pancakes eaten for Sunday brunch. The finish brings some more of the cinnamon with a tinge of white pepper. Add an impossible burger and you’d have an impossible quiche! We found, upon further reflection, that halo-like, it forms an impossible torus that manages to mostly avoid touching the tongue, and impossibly introduces cogent meaning into Derrida’s works and produces Picasso’s (missing, possibly never-actually-painted) still life of pears, kiwis, and kumquats in a bowl. If John talked alone in the woods, would his logic be sound? Hmmm…anyways, the mouth is a bit thin, as if the custard in the afore-mentioned crème brûlée was made with only egg whites, not egg yolks. I’m reminded of the famous zen koan, “Fruit flies like a banana, fruit fish like a moray’s malaise.” There are lots of sapid bourbon notes: Vanilla, caramel, and thin wisps of cinnamon. The mouth is a month’s worth of sweet round mounds of “Zounds!” exclaimed by Ezra Pound. The rye, normally so frisky, is blunted and refined by the French Oak, much like a sabre melted down into an abundance of iPad styli. The nose, were it a river, would be a deeply-flowing river, whose still waters ran shallow, contra the venerable Latin adage. An enterprising pâtissier produced an inverse crème brûlée recipe with a thin crème bottom with layers of singed iris petals, sepals, and anthers on top. The cream is clotted cream made from milk from a cow that was fed only pine cones, sage, bay leaves, and Leucanthemum vulgare, aka ox-eye daisies. The Crown Royal Noble Collection, French Oak Cask Finish, 40% abv, nose opens with herb-infused cream.
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