Strong Contenders For Single Malt Of The Year, Rum Of The Year, & Hangover Of The Year

Bruichladdich master distiller Adam Hannett doing his thing. (Photo by me)

It’s that time of year again, where all the best-of lists come out and people start asking me what my favorite spirits of the year were. The problem is, by the time December rolls around, I don’t remember what the hell I was drinking in January. And to be honest, I try so much booze — much of it absolutely delicious — that all but a few of them seep out of my leaky memory valves within a couple of weeks of my writing about them. Fortunately, however, two of my most memorable spirits of the year are featured in the latest installment of What’s Tony Drinking?, brought to you by the fine folks at Alcohol Professor. What are said spirits? You’ll just have to read it and find out, won’t you! Link is right -> HERE <-.

I will, however, mention what must be not only my worst hangover of 2022, but my most heroic moment of the year as well. My wife and daughter and I were in California, where My Daughter The Actor was shooting her latest project (top secret until 2023, alas, but I can tell you it’s a big deal). We didn’t have much time to explore any fine dining options apart from the steakhouse near our hotel in swingin’ El Segundo, but we did make it out to Culver City for an old-school dinner at the super-cool Dear John’s, which you’ll read about in the article. Now, I won’t deny that I overdid it, drinking my share of both bourbon AND gin cocktails (rookie move, I know) and eating copious amounts of heavy, cream sauce-laden food. The heart said yes… and the stomach said no.

I was violently ill all night, trying to puke my guts out without waking my daughter, who had to be on set early the next morning. When I wasn’t heaving, I was writhing in bed with a headache that felt like a large crustacean was trying to claw its way out of my head from the inside. And who was my daughter’s designated on-set guardian? That’s right, yours truly. We had to be up at 7. By then, of course, I’d already been awake and in agony for hours. My wife offered to take over for me, but I was a man on a mission. A little ginger ale, a quick shower, as much of a piece of toast as I could stomach… and by 7:35 I was raring to go. Sort of. I made it through the day, at least. Whether I’ll ever have Lobster Thermidor again is an open question, but if I do, you can bet your life I’ll opt for either bourbon OR gin cocktails, but not both.