Kavalan Whisky is...

To all of our Chinese-speaking customers out there, we have something to tell you about the new Kavalan whiskies. Our Taiwanese-born Angie An just told me:

K&L Wine Merchant 新貨上架, 是讓當台灣人的我驕傲的一天. 這瓶金車威士忌是讓蘇格蘭人都掉了下巴 前幾年在蘇格蘭威士忌盲飲比賽中得到冠軍! 噶瑪蘭 (Ka Va Lan) 這瓶威士忌是從台灣宜蘭生產出來的,   而他的名字也就是宜蘭早期的本名. 這瓶頂級指揮(從網站)  "投入雪山山脈純淨甘甜的天然水源,經過二次蒸餾,僅擷取10%酒心,以高規格、嚴謹的態度熟成。金車頂極指揮威士忌以單一麥芽之姿,精選八種不同風味酒桶,呈現複雜又乾淨的多層次風味。46度無冷凝過濾,無添加焦糖,原色純味" 喝下去口感真的很讚! 生為台灣人或威士忌愛好者在死前一定要試的一瓶!!!

If you need more information about our spirits and your preferred language is Chinese, you can email her at

We're so excited about these new Kavalan whiskies we're willing to tell you in any language we can!

-David Driscoll


K&L Spirits Journal Podcast #27 – Lou Palatella

Lou Palatella is not only a football icon, he's a liquor legend in the California distribution business – the man is spoken of with supreme reverence in the local booze industry. Approaching his 81st birthday, Lou is still going strong, running his Campeon tequila company out of Burlingame, CA and living in the shadow of the team he once called home: the San Francisco 49ers. He's a natural storyteller and he has a lot of fun memories about the old days of whiskey in the U.S. Listen to Lou as he talks about turning down Vince Lombardi's offer to play for Green Bay, the decline of Bourbon in the face of vodka, and drinking on Pappy Van Winkle's porch.

You can listen to my conversation with Lou via the embedded media player above, or download the media file by clicking on the link here. You can also visit the K&L Spirits Journal Podcast page via iTunes and download the interview there. 

The archive of previous podcast episodes is archived in directory located in the right-hand margin of the blog.

-David Driscoll


Kavalan Arrives!

The first Kavalan of the many expressions has arrived in the U.S. and I think we might be the first account to have it. While we're still waiting for customs to clear the rest of the portfolio, the classic Kavalan King Car is here and in the store. Here are the details:

Kavalan King Car Conductor Taiwanese Single Malt Whisky $109.99 - After so much time spent merely reading about the great single malt whiskies from Taiwan's Kavalan distillery, we can finally get our hands on them here in the states! The first release from Kavalan back in 2008 was their classic single malt expression that uses ex-sherry, ex-Bourbon, and ex-wine casks of between four and four and a half years of age for the marriage. The King Car uses that formula with twice the sherry, and it's this whisky that I suggest those who are looking to try out one selection from the Kavalan portfolio begin with. The first thing that strikes you as you taste it is how un-youthful it is. It might as well be a 12 year old malt from the Scottish Highlands, but with an incredible supple-fruited character. It tastes like well-made, mature, Scottish single malt with extra concentration. It's new and exciting, yet familiar and easy-to-place. There's a soft, supple, raisined fruit and sweet sherry flavor right on the entry and a long, rich finish that continues to bring toffee and caramel for minutes. It's the humid conditions of Kavalan's warehouse that allows the maturation to take place much faster -- and while I'm normally skeptical of such accusations, the proof is in the pudding here. This is real deal whisky from the next big thing.

-David Driscoll


Booze-Related Video of the Day

I remember when cartoons were a little less PC than today, but––man!––I spent Memorial Day drinking rosé and watching old Looney Toons episodes off of Amazon, and they were much more liberal with their content back in the day. I grew up on these animated programs, but I never really understood what was going on until yesterday.  For example, Speedy Gonzales spends this episode ("Tabasco Road") chasing around his tequila-drunken friends, while they sing songs about getting boracho and smoking weed.

It's much more entertaining as an adult!

-David Driscoll


Let Me Tell YOU Something...

We started first at Shalizaar in Belmont––a wonderful Persian spot with a bevy of pickled appetizers and spicy spreads. No dice––they were booked for a wedding.

"Don't worry," I told my wife, "There's a Lebanese place on 25th Avenue." I didn't even bother taking El Camino north, choosing instead to meander through the backroads, continuing our post-work lust for Middle Eastern fare through the half-light of the old Americana neighborhood.

I observed the darkened police car poised patiently at the end of the street; a serruptitious sting perched to nab the unthinking driver who would dare make a U-turn into the available parking port side. We drove to the end of the street, parked safely to our right, and walked the extra blocks to Tannourine.

"Closed for a private party," read a hand-written note taped hastily on the inside of the door.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" I cackled.

"I'm hungry," my wife added.

Across the street laid a set of open doors, a homey atmosphere, and an unfamiliar destination: Fassia––fine Moroccan cuisine; a menu of spice-laden meats and an array of available seating.

"Why not?" we said to each other.

For about ten minutes, we were the only customers dining at Fassia that evening. I watched a family of six walk down the avenue, make the same attempt at Tannourine we had made, and stare across the street towards those same open doors we had noticed just moments before. They walked in awkwardly, all clad in similar garb, and sat down solemnly. They were immediately inquisitive, so much so that my wife thought it had to be Fred Armisen with a camera crew staging another hilarious Potlandia skit. It might as well have been.

As the waitress took their order, inquiring into their beverage of choice, the patriarch raised his hand and asked, "Do you have anything distinctly Moroccan?"

The waitress mentioned the surprisingly fluent list of Moroccan wines on the table, but the man shook his head and said, "Non-alcoholic only. I'd like something that would be typical when dining in Morocco."

The woman smiled politely and said, "Usually when I'm in Fes we drink Orangina."

"Ahhhh....interesting," the man replied, his family quietly engaged to his every word. "Is that some kind of special Moroccan orange concoction?"

I almost spit out my water.

"It's just a kind of soda," the waitress replied.

"What about Tej?" the man interruped, "you guys don't serve Tej, do you?"

"I don't know what that is," the woman said, starting to get a bit antsy and confused.

"Oh no," I thought to myself. Not only was this man looking to lecture, he was confusing two completely different North African cultures; Tej is a sweet Ethiopian wine made from honey.

"Tej is a typical North African sweet wine," the non-African man began, proudly sharing his knowledge about North African culture with a woman from North Africa. "It's almost a mead of sorts, made by fermenting the actual honey. One usually drinks it with a meal."

"I'm not familiar with that," the woman said, faking courtesy at this point, looking back towards the kitchen at our food, which had just come up on the hot bed. The man sputtered off a number of other facts about the non-Moroccan cultures of North Africa and where one might find a glass of Tej if ever in the region. I told my wife we should go to a Vietnamese restaurant after this and lecture the hostess about Japanese sake.

I couldn't help but eavesdrop for the rest of our meal. When the waitress finally brought our food (which was absolutely delicious, by the way), she carried the plates past the inquisitive man who extended his hand into the air and said, "There's something else I wanted to tell you," as she walked past.

"This guy needs to start a blog," I said to my wife. "If nothing else, it would help alleviate his desire to use public interactions as a pulpit; and it would give people the choice of whether or not they want to listen."

"Do you think that would stop him from lecturing to waitresses?" she asked.

"I think so. That's really what blogs are for," I said. "They're for helping loud, self-centered, talkative people to feel important. Why do you think I started one? You'd be listening to me blabber all day if I didn't write that thing."

-David Driscoll