Max "Bunny" Sparber

FECKIN' SPICED is, as far as I can tell, simply a spiced version of Feckin' Irish Whiskey; it's hard to tell if there is anything more to it, as there is scant information online, but, having drunk a fair amount of Feckin' in the past week, it tastes greatly like the unspiced version -- same sweetness, smoothness, and slightly bourbony quality. I can't tell you precisely what sort of spices are in it, but the brand compares itself to Captain Morgan in its promotions, and, indeed, the spices taste similar. Captain Morgan keeps a pretty tight lid on the specific spices they use, but they've got vanilla and fruit in their rum, and I'd say this follows suit -- there's a mild vanilla flavor and and hint of orange. There's almost certainly some mild peppercorn and cinnamon, and perhaps allspice and cloves. But it isn't easy to pinpoint precisely what goes into making something like this -- whiskey reviewers always write down what they taste in a glass of whiskey, and it's generally stuff that is unlikely to be in the whiskey: apples, birch bark, candle wax, turkey bone, burnt hair. Whiskey is a complicated and deceptive drink, and all you can really do is say what you think it tastes like.

Feckin' Spiced is, according to them, the first spiced Irish whiskey ever. They can't claim to be the first spiced whiskey, as the Ukraine has a tradition of dumping peppers into whiskey to make something called pertsivka; additionally, Seagram's reportedly had a spiced whiskey cooler back in the Eighties, which I will pretend never to have heard of and would appreciate if the subject was never broached again.

So why spice an Irish whiskey? Presumably for the same reason you spice a rum. Historically, I suspect it was mostly to make a bad rum taste better. In modern times, when a significant portion of the population expresses a terror at any alcohol that has any color in it, I suspect it's to make a hard liquor a little more appealing to the timid and to the declassé, which may be why spiced rum is generally poo-poo'd by connoisseurs. Spiced rums don't seem intended as a sipping rum, although I suspect a very good spiced rum could be made, as there is nothing inherently wrong with adding spices to alcohol; perhaps there are some exquisite spiced rums out there that really are intended to be served straight. But Captain Morgans is a party rum, as its logo and ad campaign should demonstrate, and are intended for young and immature drinkers. I will guess that Captain Morgans is almost always mixed with a soft drink, which, as Paul Fussell pointed out in his book Class, is at the very bottom of the drinking totem pole, classwise, perhaps just beating out shots like the Buttery Nipple as expressions of cultural unsophistication.

But so be it. I'm not fussy, and drank 7&7s for years, which Fussell specifically names as being an especially proletarian drink. I've had my share of Captain and Coke's, and, in fact, enjoyed one last night after singing filthy bluegrass songs to an almost-empty Eagles club, which is a long and strange story, but, then, so are all my stories.

Anyway, the point is, I'm willing to give Feckin' and Coke a try. Interestingly, combined, the flavor is less like a spiced rum than a bourbon and coke; the spices retreat, and the drinks essential sweetness and smoky undertones come out. You don't really taste the spices until the drink's finish, and they sort of linger in your mouth in a way that's distinctive and appealing. I expect the addition of a citrus wedge, especially orange, would really bring out the spices, but I haven't one on hand, and so can only hazard a guess.

It's not a bad drink at all, but it's a novelty, and I will be surprised if it can muscle into the already crowded Irish whiskey and spiced rum markets; it seems to be trying to make a place for itself somewhere between those two markets, which will either prove to be terrible clever or suicidal. I know, in my case, when I drink Irish whiskey, I am looking for something that is distinctively, and recognizably, an Irish whiskey, and not something that tastes like an Irishman has been on holiday in the Caribbean. I expect I might have tried this drink out of curiosity even if I wasn't doing this project, and shrugged, and went back to drinking unspiced Irish whiskeys. But, then, I'm not afraid of whiskey, and often forget that others are. There may be an audience for this among the booboisie. Who am I to guess? Many of the flavored rums out there taste like coconut tanning oil to me, and many of the flavored vodkas taste like schnapps made by idiots for people without tongues. The vodka martini tastes to me like rubbing alcohol flavored with olive, and most popular absinthes taste to me like somebody handed Pernod a billy club and told it to hit people on the head as hard as possible. All of these are doing gangbusters, while drinks I genuinely enjoy, such as Pimms, have what can, at best, be called a cult audience. So I guess the lesson is as follows: It doesn't pay to be an alcohol snob when marketing liquor, as the primarily purchaser of the stuff, if you're lucky, is 21-year-old boys hoping to find something that tastes like candy, in order to get 19-year-old girls to drink it and then kiss each other.

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