Whiskey Tasting

The bottles stood in the warm light like small landmarks—glass catching amber and copper, labels quiet but sure of themselves. Suntory World Whisky Ao on one side, Hakushu 25 in the middle, Hibiki 30 on the other. Behind them, more bottles blurred into a soft glow, as if the whole room was humming at a lower volume.

Whiskey Tasting isn’t just about picking a favorite. It’s about noticing what you usually rush past: the first clean scent when you lift the glass, the way the flavor opens up slowly, the pause that comes after you swallow. There’s a patience to it. You sit still long enough to hear the place living—murmur of voices, clink of glass, the steady presence of the bar like a house that has held a thousand small conversations.

Japanese whisky has a way of feeling both precise and generous. One sip can be bright and green, another round and honeyed, another deep with oak and time. You don’t need to force meaning onto it; it arrives on its own, somewhere between the label and your own memory.

If you’ve never done a tasting, start simple: take a breath, take a small sip, let it linger. The rest of the evening will take care of itself.