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Aye, laddie. I'll need a wee dram by then to affect my member(s).

Lex, You really don't have to cross an ocean for a bit of the lethal brew, just visit Appalachia. Our West Virginia Moonshine is a real killer. Why even the fumes wipe out the meanest buzzards in the sky as the old song goes! Of course the Appalachian Mountains were originally populated by Scots and Irish so perhaps there is a connection.

Lex, allow me.

Mrs. Bowers, moonshine is made with corn and cane sugar, whereas Highland Whisky is made from peat smoked barley malt. The difference cannot be overstated.

Nicely done, FS.

That said, I'm quite familiar with the process. My dad's late first cousin Tom Alexander, a retired managing editor of Fortune magazine, used to make white liquor (for his personal consumption) in a still in the front yard of his handmade log cabin at the Cataloochee ranch and ski lodge, which his branch of the family owns. The still looked like a miniature steam locomotive.

I believe Tom drank only store-bought Scotch, if he drank Scotch at all, but I don't trust my memory on this detail.

Just remember, you started it. My Grandmother's last husband, a veteran of WWII, Korea and Vietnam, was one of the biggest moonshiners in the area for dozens of years. He ordered sugar by rail to GSO and distributed it into the mountains with trucks appearing to haul wood. The proceeds came back on the same trucks for distribution to the speak-easies. I think he kept re-upping to stay out of jail.

Lex and Fecund Stench, You are both immature little boys, which translates to Smart Asses. I was just chirping in for a laugh and certainly didn't need a lesson on whiskey making from someone who is so chicken-livered that he makes his snide remarks behind a phony moniker. Believe me Lex I was visiting your site simply because you didn't seem to have that many visitors, I won't bother your blog again.

Mrs. Bowers, many apologies. My name is Jeff Martin and I blog as such often. Please forgive my offenses. Booze is a subject I enjoy. And yes, I have a Chicken Liver. It would be good rolled in flour and fried.

Wow. Some people will take offense at just about anything.

Quite frankly, I prefer folks to use pseudonyms online. Knowing your given name's Jeff Martin doesn't tell me much about you at all -- your folks chose that name for you before they had an inkling of your personality -- unless you kicked a lot in the womb, or gnawed on the uterine walls, or... The choice of "Fecund Stench," on the other hand -- a name you chose for yourself... well, that says something. ;-)

Thanks, histrion. I have checked up on Mrs. Bowers and she has a demonstrated history of prickly behavior not unlike my own. I happen to like fiesty women.

As to my pseudonym, it does indeed give greater insight as to my nature than my boring real name. I am, however, quite willing to uncloak when challenged. As you have seen, the act means nothing.

Ms. Bowers, you aren't the first person to call me a smartass and you probably won't be the last. But we're just having a little fun here. I find the whole subject incredibly amusing, including the part where my highly-educated, successful-professional first cousin once removed distills homemade liquor in his front yard.

I mean, it's almost like the managing editor of The New York Times making moonshine out on the balcony of his gazillion-dollar Central Park West co-op. That is Teh Funny, no? (Well, the co-op board probably wouldn't think it was funny. But even THAT fact is funny, in a "Beverly Hillbillies" kind of way, right?)

Good single malt scotch is one thing but this batch at Bruichladdich sounds more like absinthe or Everclear. I think I'll stick with the Tomatin, The Glenlivet or OP (even if it is be available in 2016.)