Reverend Thoma is a Lutheran pastor in Michigan. He is married to Jennifer, and is the father of Joshua, Madeline, Harrison, and Evelyn. He is the author of the three-volume series The Angels’ Portion: A Clergyman’s Whisk(e)y Narrative. He’s also rather allergic to sharks, has a 4th-degree black belt in Monopoly, is most often bored by scary movies and drives a minivan he wishes was the Millennium Falcon.
He humbly considers himself to be a theologian and cautiously considers himself to be a writer, poet, hymnographer, and of course, a connoisseur…well maybe not a connoisseur, but rather an “enjoyer”… of finer Scotch whiskies.
This is no small question you ask. It’s as if you are imposing upon me Sophie’s choice; or perhaps that while I still breathe, you feel as though you must take my heart from my chest and inspect its innermost fibres. Do you know the course you are pursuing? Are you conscious of the test you’ve set before me? Which whisky, above all others, would I keep beside me in the darkest hours of loneliness? Which whisky would I choose to accompany forever’s solitude? Which whisky would I elect as my companion, knowing that whether the winds might howl or the seas might lap a lullaby, we would be the only ones nearby to whisper,
“’Twill be alright, my love”?
That’s an easy one. I’d choose The Balvenie SherryOak 17-Years-Old.
As I say in my review, “The nose of The Balvenie SherryOak rises full and bright like a morning sunrise carrying the rich scent of sherry wine in her rays and sprinkling the earth below with spicy dew. The palate delivers on the promise of that glorious sunrise. The early hours of the new day render sweet and ripened fruit gently etched with the traditional honey signature penned upon most if not all of The Balvenie whisky editions.
The finish is incredibly gentle, running its course toward sundown in swift fashion, leaving a pleasant memory of caramel and fruit shared at ease with a good friend.
This distraction, this visitation, ended as God has intended for friends who have grown close. ‘Will I see you again?’ she asked. ‘Yes, tomorrow. And thank you for today.’
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