Drinking Poetic (on a Wednesday): Highballs

I’m a whiskey purist. Bourbon, Scotch, Japanese, Barrel Strength, it doesn’t matter, I drink it neat. For years I was determined that not even a drop of water would come between myself and my sweet, sweet barrel aged nectar. What’s changed me? The highball.       The highball is nothing new. It’s a simple class ofContinue reading “Drinking Poetic (on a Wednesday): Highballs”