theblogofthehandoftamm

The results are in and apologies for taking so long to tabulate the votes. There was an unprecedented turnout at the polls and 100% of eligible voters cast their ballots for scotch.

On Sunday last, a tippling triumvirate sat down to weigh the comparative merits of Scottish waters. Here is how it all went down. My Brolaw invited me to drink scotch in honour of my recent birthday and it was to take place at my father’s house, where we would conduct serious investigations under controlled circumstances. I arrived to find a number of scotches on the table and stacks of forms awaiting my hand. As accompaniment, there was an ample selection of savoury snacks, including herring both smoked and kippered, olives and spicy cheese, fried bread and various crackers, smoked salmon, Polish sausage, and cashews. The paté remained in the ‘fridge because, frankly, who could remember everything once the bottles started being opened?

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Years ago I did a bit of sports reportage for the Bayer Lagerkusen News Service, as acting undersecretary of their domestic league desk. Allow me to return to the rusty form for the purposes of chronicling the on-and-off-field activities of last night’s fixture of the MLS All-Stars versus West Ham United.

There was a heightened sense of anticipation with this match which was reflected in a heightened presence of security and an expansion of their procedures. Line-ups to get in the stadium were encumbered by a longer-than-usual delay at the gates where everyone had their bags searched and their scrotums inspected prior to entry. Being a bachelor this week, the extra fondling was welcomed by me but I would have preferred that it was done with greater enthusiasm on the part of the security detail.

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Following in a soon-to-be-familiar path, I write about the latest in the new series of field trips to themed watering holes. The target for this occasion was Reposado, a tequila bar on Ossington, between Queen and Dundas. I had invited out thehandoftamm señor and we once again put our palates on the line with hopes that the cactus juice might rise above the forged papers at Pravda.

Being that it’s Ossington, in the heart of New Bohemia, we chose a Monday night at promptly opening time to make sure we didn’t need to break into any social scenery and risk being ejected for our unstudied squareness. Thankfully Reposado requires little cred and doesn’t slouch in the way of Sweaty Betty’s, The Communist’s Daughter, or the Dakota. Heck, Reposado even has a sign out front so you know that you’ve found the place you were supposed to meet your friends! OK, signage is evident at the other places as well these days. This is still my story.

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The old man and I made a pilgrimage to the Pravda Vodka Bar last night, as they promise an authentic, dedicated vodka appreciating experience. We met with something interesting, but which fell a little short of irresistible.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS
Pravda has high ceilings and high-concept soviet-era artwork, which mainly leans toward portraits of Lenin, Marx, Brezhnev, Gorbachev, and Mao, along with images of Red Army soldiers and noble workers. It’s also louder than a May Day parade in there, with a DJ that seems intent on making sure that any voices of dissent are immediately drowned out. There are sofas and high stools, plus a roped-off VIP section. No regular tables so, in spite of the dinner menu available, this is no restaurant.

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