Made near here in downtown Tarbert, Harris Gin is a fine product to rival Scotland’s national dram.
The premium gin of the isles is not available in all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world. Oh no. Only select establishments may become vendors of this delicate spirit that is infused with sugar kelp. That makes it a bit spesh.
Also available is an eye dropper bottle of sugar kelp aromatic water to drip drops into your glass when you know everyone is watching. Garnish with a slice of pink grapefruit. So posh.
It is now being exported and the first consignments have reached Texas, Chicago and San Francisco. What they’ll make of it, goodness only knows. We’re waiting for their reaction.
Have I Got News For You ruffled some Welsh feathers
Meanwhile the reaction of people in Wales was fierce last weekend. They don’t really have a national drink so they fuss over the least thing. Reviews for their single malt, Madeira-finished Welsh whisky from Penderyn Distillery are pretty good. But can I drink something from a distillery I can’t even pronounce?
The Welsh are notorious for thinking they can drink others under the table. In my RAF intake, we were pretty much split 50-50 Welsh and Scots, with the occasional soft Mancunian and Scouser, so quaffing competitions were had. Us Scots beat them every time. Iechyd da, boyos. Pronounced “yakki-dah”, that’s Welsh for “cheers”.
Nobody actually calls Mount Snowdon Yr Wyddfa except Welsh-speaking broadcasters, teachers and the Ordnance Survey
Welsh citizens have been complaining over jokes on Have I Got News For You. With the whole UK sick to the back teeth of the wall-to-wall election coverage, it was a welcome diversion from the fake excitement building. Nothing changed, unless you live in Hartlepool.
What rattled them in the valleys was jokey remarks about a councillor’s bid to have Snowdon’s name officially changed to Yr Wyddfa. Nobody actually calls it that except Welsh-speaking broadcasters, teachers and the Ordnance Survey.
From Colwyn Bay to Tiger Bay, the men and women of Harlech raged. Leftist, privileged English were mocking them. Kirsty Wark joined in and she’s not very English, but yeah.
Are Aberdonians work-shy?
We Gaels get the same nonsense but from certain Scottish Central Belt media. Rags from south of Perth, you understand. Dunno why, when we have easier-to-remember place names on road signs like Bunabhainneadar and Obar Dheathain, which means Aberdeen.
A mischievous Gaelic teacher once speculated about Aberdeen. Similar word “obair” means “work”, but that second word Dheathain is a mystery. He thought it could be from “dhuin” – “off us”. He speculated that was because Aberdonians are work-shy and wanted to get work “off us”.
Scholars think it refers to the confluence of the rivers Dee and the Don. But there’s no fun in that.
What do I think? The fit likes fae Aiberdein I’ve met have all been fine people – especially ones who work in regional newspapers and who decide how much to pay their poor, struggling columnists. Wonderful people. Generous to a fault as well. Foos yer doos, as they say in Kincorth.
Welsh people I’ve met have been decent, too. They just need to lighten up – maybe with a wee gin.
Texans might switch from bourbon to gin
Snowdon, or should I say Yr Wyddfa, stands at a mere 1,085 metres. A train takes you to the top. There’s also a cafe up there. Our Ben Nevis – or Beinn Nibheis, which nobody but Gaelic broadcasters, teachers and Ordnance Survey call it – is the highest mountain in the UK at 1,345 metres above Fort William.
No choo choo trains, no cafes. Take ham sandwiches. Oxygen tank optional.
Will Texas make the switch from bourbon to Harris Gin? Try it with tonic and a wedge of lemon. Texans have no decorum, though. Willie Nelson, George Foreman, and Tommy Lee Jones – know what I mean?
Imagine a tipsy Texan after having Harris Gin for the first time going up to the Hearach host at an introductory tasting. He says: “‘Scuse me, ma’am. May I ask you a question?”
The Hearach nods. The Texan says: “Tell me, my dear, do lemons whistle?”
She replies: “No. Lemons don’t whistle. Why?”
The Texan smacks his forehead and says: “Darn it. I think I’ve just squeezed your canary into my Harris Gin and tonic.”
