Sunday, January 16, 2011


In 1995 I moved to Boulder, Colorado. It was an amazing chapter in my life. During a point of massive turmoil in my life, I found serenity. It must've been the fresh mountain air.

I moved out there on the premise that I would stay with a very good friend of mine from my high school days, Andrea, and her boyfriend, Rob. The day that I got there, I visited Rob at his workplace, Jiffy Lube on 30th street. It just so happened that they were hiring. To make a long story short, I was hired on the spot. Amongst the shenanigans, debauchery, hilarity and drunken stupors, I was starting to see why we all were there. I'd befriended a group of guys and gals that were trying to escape something in their past and somehow we all ended up at Jiffy Lube.

After a few months, Andrea and Rob and I went separate ways. Rob was fired from Jiffy Lube. My parents finalized their divorce. My apartment was broken in to. My parked car was severely damaged in a hit and run. At a gig up in Ft. Collins, my guitar was knocked over and broken. My kitten, Beuford, ripped through my window screen and ran away. Two of my closest friends, Zena and Peter, lived hours away. I was alone and it was rough. Yet, whenever I look back on my time in Colorado, I say it was the best time of my life.

I learned so much about myself as well as others around me. I like to call it a social awakening. I fell in love with the mountains. I was fascinated about the weather patterns in Boulder. I was amazed that it could snow 16 inches over night and the next day would 65 degrees and sunny. I was delighted to find out that Spring and Fall mimicked New England. Though I didn't have that much contact with my family, I had a family of friends of my own.

Eventually, I had to move home. I had to leave my Hell Hole that I called my own Private Heaven. I was sad. I promised myself that someday I would return. I would be ready to soak it all in again.

With that dream still in the forefront of my mind, I still call Boulder my "home". Now that I own a wine shop with my fiancee, I'm selling some products made in my "home state," Colorado. From the first sip I'm transported back to Boulder, and all those memories come flooding back. I can smell the mountain air and hear my friend's laughter and I may even be able to smell some axle grease. The whiskey I found today is just one example of what keeps my dream alive.

Stranahan's Colorado Whiskey 
Stranahan's Colorado Whiskey is delicious. It's bottled at 94 proof. If you add a cube of ice, it drinks like an 80 proof. I found it at a little shop down in NYC called Bottle Rocket. The salesman was a little iffy describing the whiskey. So I decided to try it. I'm weird like that. I couldn't wait to get home to try it. Thank God that it came with a galvanized steel shot glass on the top of the bottle. I chose to crack the bottle on the train ride back to Westport. It's rich, complex, edgy and robust. If your looking for that sour mash sweetness, you've come to the wrong place. Colorado Whisky is a hell of a lot different than any domestic whiskey I've ever had. I dig it. This, in my opinion, would be the ultimate ingredient for a Manhattan.

I highly doubt that at this point in time that this is avavliable in Connecticut. So, just like High West Whiskey in Utah, I will try my best to bring this beautiful spirit to our little Connecticut community.

Just like anything else that I write about, if you'd like to sample this beauty, just let me know the next time you are in the store. I might just have some left in my secret stash in the back room.

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