A 50-year-old madeira came into our hands from some friends whose patience outran their imbibing. By the time a very special occasion might arrive, they realized, drinking a fortified wine was not how they'd celebrate it.
After a month or two of waiting, I decided 8 below zero was special enough.
We'd managed to spend three days in the home city of port last fall and walked past all warehouses and tasting rooms without so much as a sip.
Too late now.
If there is such a taste as toasted smoked prune with a hint of pine tar, then let me go on record as being all in favor. My palate is notoriously over friendly, however. I am the labrador of liquor.
I looked this stuff up. I owe those friends something very nice for their next special occasion.