And lo, it came to pass that Dangerboy did find himself in Las Vegas again. And lo, didst he hear of a place with 60o whiskeys, from Canadian to Irish, Scotch to bourbon. And lo, didst he hustle his ass there straightaway. Seriously, the booze afficionado within me rejoiced.
The name of the place is Freakin' Frog. Within the Frog is a room called the Whiskey Attic. As I showed up on a Monday, the Whiskey Attic wasn't open, but the bartender hooked me up anyway since I'd journeyed far from the Great Midwest.
This is truly a vision of beauty.
It doesn't look like much, a small bar for the locals over by the college. It's dim and rife with character. But if you like whiskey and you are in Las Vegas, you need to hop your ass over there faster than Charlie Sheen runs to his heroin hook-up.
It was recommended to me that if you want to visit the Whiskey Attic, you call ahead and make reservations, perhaps with a group. The owner, I am told, has an encyclopedic knowledge of whiskeys, and puts together tastings at a flat price per person. I may have been levered out of the place with a krobar when it was time to leave.
Freakin' Frog...remember it, and Slainte!
Those first three sentences may be my favorite thing you've ever written here.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Nicki. Methinks we need to have a virtual Scotch drinking session sometime.
ReplyDelete