I saw this beer and couldn’t help but think of the Belgian surrealist artist René Magritte. Do you know the chap? He painted some fabulous stuff in the 1920s and 30s and one of his most famous was a picture of a pipe, plain and simple, with the inscription - ceci n’est pas une pipe written below and which translates into 'this is not a pipe'.
Frankie Mcphail loves whiskey. That said, she’s currently having a rather serious affair with gin.
When Steve Skinner started at Elephant Hill back in 2006, his first move was to rip out the struggling Bordeaux varieties at the Te Awanga site and set in motion the acquisition of new vineyards in the Bridge Pa and Gimblett Gravels districts. This was the beginning of a a master plan to diversify in every which way possible, drawing the best from the complexities of Hawke’s Bay's sub-regions, allowing Steve to make the best wines he can.
Having recently tasted our way through a sumptuous lineup of John Kavanagh’s wines at an upstairs tasting at Regional Wines - it was with bated breath that we descended over the hills towards Te Kairanga…
It was a pugilistic battle until the bitter sweet end. Seven heavyweight whiskies going toe to toe until only one was left standing. Unrelenting blow after blow of port, PX and sherry leaving us dazed confused, heady and happy.
John Kavanagh obviously had a plan when he took over the reins at Te Kairanga in 2012, and It didn't take him long to find his feet. He's now strapped on the track shoes and is going for gold each vintage, capping a run of consecutive wins at the Decanter World Wine Awards with the ultimate accolade - Best in Show for his 2017 John Martin Pinot Noir.
Sunday lunch at Simpson’s in the Strand had gone on longer than expected, and as Lord Eden unfastened the top button of his trousers and reclined into the plush leather upholstery…
Part of a series of tap badges, design and branding work for Mean Doses generated working closely with the client.
The celestial being was over a thousand leagues tall, and as he strode the universe, his arm trailed through an asteroid field offering an unexpected handful or rare metals, ore and inorganic debris.
Having angered the whisky gods with a lineup of no age statement single malts at the previous tasting, it was time to atone, and thus we found ourselves, once again, before the sacrificial altar at the chapel of Bruce McLaren, with seven single casks from BenRiach.
