#ghostdistillery

The gorcock what landed under my christmas tree called me to an imaginary journey into the wild. I closed my eyes and old woody scents hit my nose. I was wondering where I am? Am I surronded with old-fashioned furniture and nosing vanilla candles? The thought became suspicious with the arrival of the green notes. Don’t worry, nothing raw, throught the 30 years they are integrated very well. The cold realisation hit me with the first síp: I am outside in the middle of a forest. The menthol broke me into shivers like a cold wind. As my goosebumps started to fade away I felt the aftertaste of the seeds in my mouth. I was chewing them longly, the finish was everlasting. What a character with such a beautiful afterglow!

The bottle is pretty impressive with its sophisticated vintage print showing a gorcock marching in the pine-forest – and no doubt is is totally in line with the content. The bird natural habitat is the underbrush of pine-woods, so I do hope it is having a good time under my christmas tree. Let me warn you, they eat pine-needles and sometimes totally make stripped down the trees. Be careful, especially because it’s coming from demolished distillery with a very limited supply left.

Pittyvaich, the name of it based on the native tongue of Gaelic, means the farm with the Byre. Operating only twenty but one years, the distillery showed us, sometimes a short poem can be as good as a long novel. Folks, this was my toast to the ghost.