With St. Patrick's Day looming up ahead of us it's time to think - not about corned beef and cabbage and beer, which combined has always struck me as a gastric disaster waiting to happen - but rather about the real Irish diet, which is, of course, whiskey and a dash of water.

Everywhere I go I encounter confusion amongst the good and drunk people of this country as to what is the difference between Irish whiskey and "regular" whiskey. They also don't seem to know that bourbon is a whiskey, and yet whiskey is not always bourbon. And, here's an interesting one, Jack Daniels is NOT bourbon, because it's made in Tennessee. So I thought before you go embarrassing yourself in front of all those fireman and police at the bar this Friday, I'd share my encyclopedic knowledge of the subject.

Let's start with Scotch, just to get it out of the way. Coming as it does from Scotland, it's distilled from "malt" (sprouted barley, dried in a drum) and flavored with burnt peat moss as part of its distilling process, which since that moss is not to be found elsewhere makes Scotch its distinctive smoky self. 

 

Now the Irish are the kings of whiskey if for no other reason than because the origin of the word "whiskey" comes from the Celtic "whiskeybae" (pronounced "whiskey-baha") which means "water of life." Ah, those bedeviled Irishmen! The difference between Irish Whiskey and Scotch whiskey is that the Irish has been distilled longer and uses more un-malted barley in its mash mix, this due to an auld tax on malt that made it a wee bit cheaper. Also there's no dusky peat aroma in the Irish mix. All in all it's smoother, so them that balks at Scotch may do well to order a Bushmills  but they should do it on the rocks or with a bit of water on the side. No self-respecting whiskey drinker is going to waste Irish whiskey mixed with ginger ale or, may the saints preserve us, Diet Pepsi.

Now, what with immigration and all, there was at one point more Irishmen in New York City than in Dublin, and that's one of the reason Saint Patrick's Day is a much bigger holiday here than it is there. But for our purposes we're looking at the even auld-er Irish immigrants, the ones who were already well settled in the South, in Kentucky and Tennessee, distilling their own versions of Irish whiskey and sending Scarlet O'Hara off to finishing school. Now in the south there wasn't so much barley as there was corn. With a recipe of 71% corn, you have  Kentucky bourbon for Kentucky, and Tennessee whiskey for… you guessed it, Tennessee. The Tennessee style is different because it's charcoal filtered. At any bar you'll be getting drunk, there'll likely be only two of this Tennessee type, and both are quite delicious, George Dickel and Jack Daniels. The Kentucky type is usually represented by Jim Beam and, if you're very lucky, Old Grandad.

Now, if you just order a bourbon and ginger ale and don't give the bartender any specific brand name, she is going to pull a bottle from the well, which might be Ten High, a very cheap and pretty damned tasty bourbon that I and my cronies basically lived on all through college, if you are lucky, and something called "Colonel Kwik-E Mart's Kentucky Bourbon" if you are on the Simpsons. But if you say "whiskey and ginger ale" she is going to probably pull out some "blended whiskey." 

Blended is, in my opinion, the devil. It's a vile combination of flavorless grain whiskey and non-Scottish scotch (or peatless malt), blended is basically a hodge podge of flavors that does no Irishmen a whit of good. Similar to this is Canadian whiskey. Rye whiskey, on the other hand, is a rare bird, its feather's wilted from lack of use.  You can tell it used to be a big drunkard favorite because the alcoholic protagonist played by Ray Milland in The Lost Weekend (1945) drinks rye whiskey all the time. He'd have a hard time finding it in bars all over New York now. Then there's straight corn whiskey (81% corn)  only available from the aptly named Heaven Hill distillery. There's more whiskey substrata of course, but time is fleeting! Happy hour approacheth and we must be ready to slouch towards Bethlehem and  be borne.

That brings us to the ultimate in whiskeys, the top shelf bourbons that have recently come out from the good folks at the Jim Beam distillery. The manly drink of choice in that unholy realm is Booker's on the rocks. When you pony up to the bar on Friday, look to the top shelf and see if you see a row of quaint looking brown bottles, with names like "Knob Creek" and Basil Hayden's and a tall bottle with brown handwriting on the label (that's Booker's writin'!). If you see them up there, you say to the barman, "Bookers on the rocks." And man,  will everyone treat you with respect! They'll tell the red-nosed barflies on either side of you to take a step back! A real drinker's in town. The amazing thing is, at 127 proof, that stuff is sooo smooth. You will amaze your friends and flush your cheeks and feel your spirit soar from out your brain.

So this Friday don't just quaff green tap beer like a punter. Get on the whiskeybae train and ride it to the new world.