Stirred, Not Shaken, at our First Ever Whisky Class

Whisky was once a classist quaff for the well-heeled. I used to imagine stodgy, waistcoat-wearing old men with David Attenborough accents bonding in silence over a neat Speyside, or Colonel Sanders-esque white suit-wearing American plantation owners languishing in the summer heat, a Tennessee sippin’ whisky their only solace from the elements. However, this beautiful marriage of smoke and peat systematically …