At the beginning, we had trouble understanding each other. Your power impressed me. I had a hard time putting my feelings into words, but I was convinced of one thing: that by making an effort, we would both get along very well.
Sometimes I read the tasting notes that concerned you, sometimes I poured water drop by drop in my glass to soften you. All this to better understand you, to speak your language, to better welcome all the emotion that you offered me.
Then gradually, I started to understand you, to appreciate you for who you were, to share you with those who wanted to know you. But at the same time, you were gradually disappearing, until the day when I had only your empty bottle left as a stiff.
Only one question remained: when would we meet again? And fate made you take your place in my bar right after confinement.
When I opened you for the first time a second time, I was stressed. 10 batches had passed. Would I find the sensations you gave me? And me, would I be able to love you with all the attention you deserve?
During our reunion, in wanting to run after my memory, I was naturally disappointed. But memories are just the truth of a past that guides us to create new memories. So I let you carry me.
And finally, I rediscovered the notes of nougat, coffee and chocolate mousse that I loved to smell, and the notes of dark chocolate, wood and orange that I loved to sip. Those that I will not find anywhere else, those that were the first notes of a melody that I continue to compose today.
I wish you a safe trip back to my bar, Aberlour A'Bunadh.