The Bennuaine Whisky Glass: A Study in Whisky Glassware
Dallas takes a deep dive
Our collective whisky experience grows with each snap of the seal, tear of foil and subsequent pour. It’s the endless pursuit of liquid moments that we’ll continue to treasure long after the bottle has run dry.
We scour various sources of information for the latest reviews and opinions, hoping to identify a whisky that offers something new and memorable. Monthly budgets are financed, reassessed and blown in the pursuit of whisky. We’ve all been there: when faced with the opportunity to purchase something you know is worthwhile but requires stretching a little further than usual, the outcome is almost always worth it.
A constant for most of us on this whisky journey, from seeking to finding enjoyment, is the whisky glass. It’s an everyday staple and yet, for many, a surprisingly overlooked element. Glassware is the vessel, the conduit, the gatekeeper to appreciating each pour in greater detail—so why don’t we seek out the best?
Now, I’m fully aware that some old diehard acquaintances of mine steadfastly believe glassware isn’t a major factor, and while I respect their opinion, I humbly disagree. My own whisky journey has been littered with glasses of various shapes and sizes. It has also been punctuated by the sound of shattered glasses in similar variety. Some victims are the result of one too many at a session or a clumsy hand reaching over to grab a bottle, inadvertently catching you off guard. Other fatalities highlight a flaw in the production process, such as when a stem snaps with no real pressure applied or something gives way as the glass degenerates. The constant dangers of cleaning have also saved its potential victims from the throbbing rattle of a badly packed dishwasher, a machine set on the wrong programme, assigning them to over-zealous hand cleaning and drying instead. There are seemingly almost as many ways to shorten the lifespan of glassware as there are whiskies.
Many of us start our whisky journeys with the Glencairn, which is as plentiful and as widespread as Coca Cola. A classic piece of design, it has endured for as long as I can remember for several reasons, including a trustworthy durability and solid enhancement of whisky drinking. A reliable and faithful companion, it won’t thrill or surprise, but it will offer you a steadfast presence with every pour. Affordability is also a huge factor, as the Glencairn is relatively cheap and plentiful. There’s something to be said for such qualities—they’re why many won’t look elsewhere or move on.
Such a stance is understandable, because whisky is exactly what you make it. For many out there, a humble blend or a mainstream single malt is the regular; these are ideally suited to staples such as the Glencairn or something such as a tumbler, which negates the majority of aromas in favour of a good evening pour. Then there are the enthusiasts who have to scratch that itch and see what else is out there. I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole in the pursuit of whisky; this in turn compels me to try every shape and size of glass that appears on the market. Some come complete with fanciful claims, embarrassing pouches and much more besides, with the majority failing to justify the price tag or fulfil on the promised drinking experience.
Through these excursions, I’ve developed my own specific approach to drinking and appreciating whisky (driven by the need to write tasting notes most of the time). This pattern of behaviour is specific to me and isn’t gospel, nor should it be seen as such. You will have your own routine and glassware that works best for you. It’s a culmination of trial and error —your own whisky chanoyu version of the Japanese tea ceremony.
Next up is the reliable copita, which has fallen by the wayside in European terms. It occupies the middle ground and is the AOR of the whisky glass realm. Dependable, affordable, easily engraved and numerous in nature, arguably it lacks the curves or design features to really stimulate the imagination. This probably explains why this steady glass is often the choice of some friends who lack the moral conviction to go off-piste.
The provocative Instagram rarity of an opened bottle sitting alongside the pour is an image I’ll post now and again. Over thousands of posts, I’ve often received queries about the fancy glassware on display. This will be the Rastal Harmony, as used by Whiskybase and the Dornoch Castle Whisky Bar. It is my everyday bit of kit, offering more sensory pleasure than a Glencairn while not totally sacrificing durability. The Rastal also has the benefit of being reasonably priced, feeling good in the hand and being straightforward to clean.
For those more luxurious or special whisky moments, I need to sacrifice that durability and reach for the 1920s’ Professional Blender’s glass. It’s much like stepping into the garage and pulling off the dusty tarpaulin to reveal a classic car such as a Rolls-Royce, Mercedes Gullwing (or, more likely in my case, a Honda N600). This is the glassware for the special occasion, best suited to smaller pours and lower strengths: something you roll out for a casual drive on a Sunday afternoon enhanced by something special. You’ll cautiously dust down and clean this bulbously shaped glassware each time, before easing it back into a safe location. The 1920s design has since been made more robust than my early incarnation—which so far has survived the rigours of liquid gold discoveries—but it is fair to say that this remains a delicate piece of equipment.
What’s become clear as I line up these glasses is that they represent the evolution of glassware—from humble beginnings to more extravagant vessels. Even the tumbler is coming in for a modern revamp with the Chill Tumbler currently on Kickstarter. It goes against the belief that you shouldn’t chill your whisky and thereby reduce the opportunity for flavour and aroma. Perhaps it’s more suited to pours in warmer climates; it’s an interesting take on glassware and you don’t know till you’ve tried. That said, the fact that you’ve got to put it in the fridge for 3 to 4 hours prior to drinking would be a massive drawback for someone like myself. However, we do have a relatively new arrival to assess in this article…
Bennuaine (pronounced Benn-YOO-En) is a new option for those seeking a greater whisky drinking experience. Many have come before Bennuaine and failed. Initial impressions on screen were good when I first noted the glass shape in early 2021 via Kickstarter, but the pricing and shipping were off-putting. I left it at that and continued with my two reliable options. Stepping into 2022, I started to hear positive murmurs from individuals who know their glassware and their whisky, so with my interest re-stoked to find out more, I made contact with Bryan, the founder of Bennuaine.
I wanted to understand what drives someone to create a whisky glass and what is truly involved in bringing the concept to a worldwide market. The unearthing of appropriate skills, pitfalls and triumphs, along with the difficulties of pricing, are all mentioned on the Bennuaine website, I’m pleased to say, under transparency—one of my favourite words. I’m fully transparent and often caustic—depending on who you talk to—but forever transparent. Refusing to take a Bennuaine glass for free, I covered Bryan’s postage and also made a donation to the British Glass Foundation, which he won’t know about until this article was published. My consciousness is crystal (sorry) clear.
For this article, I conceived a series of tests. They won’t be hugely scientific, but they should be informative and fun. Putting the Bennuaine into a line-up of glassware also comprising a Glencairn, a copita, a Rastal Harmony and a 1920s’ Blender’s glass should give us a sense of its capabilities. Over an evening, I’ll pour a widely available staple (Tamnavulin Double Cask) in all five glasses. Each pour will be the same size and covered for the same period. The following day, we’ll step up to the Springbank 12yo cask strength (55.9%) and then onto a Hedges & Butler blended scotch bottled in 1963. We’ll need something peated for the final evening, so we’ll pour a Ledaig from the Whisky Sponge.
Experiment 1
Tamnavulin Speyside Single Malt Scotch Whisky
No Age Statement 40%
Glencairn
Nose: Honey, ginger, soft brown sugar.
Taste: Gentle and easy-drinking with more honey, ginger, nuttiness and a touch of warming alcohol on the finish. A very fluid and confident arrival on the palate.
Copita
Nose: More alcohol than the Glencairn immediately; brown sugar, marmalade. Not as soft but has more punch.
Taste: About the same in terms of the alcohol on the finish, but prior to that, I felt the Glencairn had the edge in delivery terms.
Harmony
Nose: Less alcohol than the copita, but more definition, definitely more rounded, denser and intricate. You feel able to get your nose into the glass more
Taste: Less of the alcohol and again that theme of being more complete.
Bennuaine
Nose: Interesting; certainly not the alcohol of the copita. It feels fruitier than the previous trio. Also, the thin nature of the design comes through as you feel more at one with the whisky, more connected. A good start.
Taste: It works well; it lacks the density of the Harmony but it’s a very easy pour in this glass.
Blender’s
Nose: Yes, more alcohol—as expected—as the experience feels more amplified. Immediately returning to the copita to compare, it feels more timid, with the Glencairn dropping off the scale.
Taste: More effort to pour from this glass, but still worth it. Not a huge difference to the Bennuaine or the Harmony.
So, Bryan, thanks for agreeing to answer a few questions. Can you give us a little background on yourself and how you got into whisky?
Happy to chat, Jason! Have long been a fan of your journalism and loving the Glen Mhor project. My whisky journey goes back to the time when I was first legally able to drink alcohol. The family of my girlfriend in college was really into craft beverages. Her dad introduced me to craft beer, right when it was really starting to take off. Her older brother introduced me to single malt and my first dram was the Balvenie Caribbean Cask. I thought it was too sweet, but I was definitely intrigued. The next was the Balvenie 12 and immediately I was a fan. The big moment came not too long later when we co-purchased bottles of Balvenie 21 and Caol Ila 12 Year. The 21 Year was magnificent, but the spicy and savory qualities of the Caol Ila 12 Year stole my heart. It’s been a deep journey down the rabbit hole since.
Thanks, glad someone appreciates all the hours spent deciphering faded distillery documents. Do you have a background in product development or glassware at all?
I would say I have some experience in product development but none in glassware. I’ve always been tinkering with and building things. It started with Legos and has grown into designing custom websites and software, building my own furniture, and, in my last job, an unofficial capacity of smoothing out kinks in board games. The more I think about it, I realize it’s kind of been an insatiable urge. My parents are not handy at all, but they definitely instilled an appreciation for quality that I am thankful for.
Can you talk us through that moment when you realised that your whisky glassware wasn’t delivering what you truly believed was possible? Was there a particular whisky, or style of whisky, that underlined the void?
I think it might have been when I tried the Blender’s Glass for the first time? Too much alcohol concentration for most use cases. It didn’t live up to the hype.
Yes, that’s a flaw as most don’t realise blenders watered down whisky to 20% or thereabouts when creating their recipes. That design magnifies higher strengths into an amplified blast. How difficult was it to maintain some of that alcohol without losing it totally?
It definitely involved a lot of trial and error. The important thing to recognize is that, like with wine glasses, there is not one design that is *PERFECT* for every style. There will be at least one compromise. I think with the Bennuaine glass, that small compromise is noticed with softer and lower-proof spirits. Capping for a few minutes will help dramatically. I choose that compromise on the belief that the drinkers who will purchase my glass will be drinking slightly heavier and more aromatic spirits as opposed to lighter ones.
Yes, that weakness has certainly come through on lower-proof blends. How did you decide on that tradeoff compared to other aspects? Did you judge it more as an all-rounder or based on your potential target market and what they’d more likely drink?
My goal with this glass was to create something that would be great for a majority of styles. That said, it was clear in my research that one compromise would have to be made somewhere. I think the majority of whisky drinkers are not daily drinking low-proof blends, so that was where the tradeoff was made.
The sneak preview for your readers is that, down the road, I do hope to offer two more glasses that are each tailored to the extreme low and high-proof styles of the spectrum.
As part of your own whisky journey, have you tried various styles of glassware, shapes and sizes, to pick out suitable vessels without much success? What was the best solution in the market, in your opinion, prior to you developing the Bennuaine?
(Chuckles) In developing my glass I think I rigorously tried 20-plus shapes.
Regarding performance, the Blender’s Glass is a decent choice for low-proof or delicate spirits, but that’s just a small segment of the whisky world. Regarding material and construction quality, maybe a Riedel glass? Honestly, nothing really had any quality comparison to the likes of Zalto or Gabriel Glas wine glassware, which was my benchmark.
What do you see as the main drawbacks and strengths of the whisky glasses currently available?
This will sound a little blasé, but the biggest strength of whisky glasses on the market is that they are not tumblers. They do such a disservice to spirits.
The biggest drawback is their lack of refinement in both performance and construction. If you spend 100 dollars/pounds/euros on a single bottle of whisky that has been so carefully crafted, shouldn’t the drinking vessel try to show an equal level of respect?
Most people seem to accept the status quo and won’t break the rules. Yet faced with this situation, you’ve decided to do whatever you want and go that extra step and create your own solution. Some would either see that as madness or inspirational—what energised you to take up the challenge and did you underestimate what lay ahead?
It’s definitely madness. Like I said, creating things has definitely been a compulsion that doesn’t make my life easier.
The inspiration is what I mentioned in my last response—I wanted a glass that paid respect to the spirit. A 30-year-old whisky that conjures emotions of falling in love with the ghost of a beautiful and fiery Scottish maiden (one of my actual tasting notes from an old Caol Ila), in my humble opinion, should be consumed from a glass that, in its own way, is as equally impressive. I’ve tried my best to live up to that with my design and I hope many agree.
Did I underestimate the project? I definitely underestimated the pains of registering for VAT in the UK and the EU. Let me just say I personally understand why Brexit is a hot topic.
Also, I wouldn’t quite say I underestimated it, but this is an expensive business and that comes with challenges. These are not $3 items from China. It takes a lot of capital to make hand-crafted glassware within Europe.
Yeah, the joys of Brexit. Speaking of borders, is there a big difference in what the North American market expects from a whisky (or whiskey) glass compared to Europe and elsewhere?
The North American market isn’t as deeply engrained into whisky culture as Europe is. The professionals in the industry understand it, but many of the consumers do not. Within the wine community there is deep fanaticism about quality glassware, so I am hopeful as whisk(e)y becomes more popular there will eventually be an equal level of interest.
Experiment 2
Springbank 12yo Cask Strength
55.9%
Glencairn
Nose: For cask strength, this is subtle presentation; you’re able to delve in deep without too much alcohol. Things improve as you give it more time.
Taste: Spiky, plenty of alcohol, oily.
Copita
Nose: The cask strength is noticeable, but in tandem we have those recognisable Springbank characteristics, becoming fruitier with time.
Taste: Nice mouthfeel and plenty of flavour; a strong effort.
Harmony
Nose: Less alcohol and more oils and density. Just the right pitch for me.
Taste: Goes one better than the copita and offers more complexity and a long finish.
Bennuaine
Nose: You have to work a little harder than the Harmony for character, but there’s no alcohol to restrict your ability to dive in.
Taste: Very good with the fruits and the long finish is evident but the Harmony just edges it.
Blender’s
Nose: The strength comes through and you dive for cover initially—airing required. Then, it feels fresher and more alive than the Bennuaine.
Taste: Very similar to the Bennuaine once again; good delivery and finish.
The mention of China is interesting. How easy would it have been to organise production in the communist state and increase your profit margins? Is there an attempt to keep things ethical in the business and can you talk us through how you identified the best producer for the glass?
Honestly, I’m not sure how easy or not easy it would have been to get the glassware manufactured in China. I didn’t even consider it as an option, so I didn’t do any research into it.
That said, even within European suppliers, I’ve gone for quality over profit. In my development phase, I received samples for glassware that would have cost me 15–30% less than what I’m currently paying. My wallet certainly would have thanked me for that. However, my goal was purely to produce the highest quality.
Finding a production partner was a challenge as I obviously had zero knowledge of the European glassblowing community. Fortunately, I was able to get connected to several experts in the field through countless emails and phone calls and several samples. It’s certainly not as simple as searching “best glassware in Europe”.
I know that glass blowing is a real skill and sadly a dying art in some countries, including the UK. Is there a similar skill shortage in the US? Did you really want to keep everything within North America?
My first glass prototype was hand-crafted without a mold, or free-blown, here in Los Angeles by an amazingly skilled artist named Anthony Bianco. You can watch a 90-second recap on the website. We had discussions about the glass being produced in North America, but it was exceedingly clear that it just wasn’t doable. Glassblowing is, in my opinion, one of the most difficult and impressive art forms. There’s also a high barrier to entry. I hope more people invest the time, sweat, blood, and scar tissue into keeping glass blowing alive.
To answer the question about keeping production in America: as an American, it of course would have been ideal, but I couldn’t sell a single glass for double its current price.
I appreciated the fact that you talk openly about pricing on the website, as you know it will be a topic of discussion for many. What would you say about pricing and the issue of postage, and are you looking at making the product more accessible in the UK and Europe?
I am a big believer in transparency. It’s tough to sell my glass at its current price point, but equivalent wine stemware sells for double the price, with little to no resistance. Educating people that they’re not getting ripped off is actually part of the sales process for a whisky-related product like this.
I’m guilty of saying ‘glass’ in the article, but the Bennuaine is actually made of crystal. Was this the material of choice? What benefits does it bring versus cost?
Crystal glassware is lighter and stronger than non-crystal options, which is why it can be so thin. Crystal contains strengthening additives that create a harder material. It also has the ability to refract light in an elegant way.
As mentioned, I love the crystal stemware from wine brands like Zalto, Sophienwald, and Gabriel Glas for their lightness and construction quality. When a skilled craftsman blows a crystal form, you can look straight through it with very little distortion. Most glass is rippled.
The best part? The glasses are dishwasher safe. Modern technique as well as the elimination of lead means they’re durable. I have restaurant and bar partners that are using them every night in service and putting them in commercial high-powered dishwashers with extremely little breakage. I had a sample that lasted through three counter-height drops. Because they’re so light, about 60 grams, they bounce.
Experiment 3
Hedges & Butler Royal Blended Scotch Whisky, bottled 1963
86 proof
Glencairn
Nose: Some alcohol, green apples and smoke. Still, plenty of life in this old blend.
Taste: Strong arrival and punchiness with a long-lasting finish. I actually forgot how enjoyable this blend is.
Copita
Nose: A little less alcohol than expected and more of the meadow fruits; well rounded.
Taste: Has the edge of the Glencairn. Not as punchy but still an enjoyable degree of complexity, although the finish is lesser.
Harmony
Nose: Much softer, toffee apples, no alcohol. That density to the nose is present again.
Taste: Again, this feels more wholesome, oilier and denser than the previous two. Perhaps lacking the character of the copita mid-palate.
Bennuaine
Nose: No alcohol; floral with the meadow fruits but it feels thinner and less complex.
Taste: An easy pour with some of the fruity character but less of a finish.
Blender’s
Nose: As you’d expect by now, an initial burst of alcohol. Then you return and dive into an oily and dense experience.
Taste: Definitely more presence on the palate, and more alcohol. The character is there as well as the finish. Overall, this is the pick of the five for this whisky.
I understand you DIY’d some designs with a home 3D printer, which in my mind would have allowed open season on moving away from traditional designs. Did you push the boundaries in terms of concepts, shapes and suchlike?
Before I even got to 3D printing shapes, I was testing not just traditional glassware, but all sorts of vessels like candle holders and flower vases. I played around with silly shapes via the 3D printer, but ultimately, they were just novelties.
Do you think that the thinness and lightness of the crystal can be misleading to whisky drinkers who are more used to heavier and chunkier glassware? In effect, do they have to adapt their drinking style to this new vessel?
If you’re not familiar with fine stemware for wine, then yes, the lightness of Bennuaine glass will be a complete shock to your system. But you will be a convert.
Pre-millenium, the whisky industry was all about poor blends and toxic masculinity. Heavy tumblers were a consequence of both.
I don’t think anyone needs to adapt their drinking style. There’s a lot of design intention in the glass to make it extremely comfortable to hold and drink from - even if you’re used to heavy glassware. I’ve found myself sitting on the couch, watching a show, and forgetting I’m holding the glass because of its form factor.
You mentioned restaurants and bars—are these your main customers currently? What glassware were they using before and is the increasing uptake a sign of a more connoisseurial appreciation of whisky?
Well, I’m opening up sales in Europe, so I’m hoping everyone who reads this goes and treats themselves to some glassware.
Jokes aside, yes, restaurants and bars have been my main customers. They are all relatively higher price point establishments that were using the highest-quality wine stemware for their wine program but making significant compromises in form and/or function on their spirits glassware. A shocking number of restaurants were using Zalto water glasses. And then waiters would come by, think the glass was empty, and refill it with water!
As someone born, raised, and living in Los Angeles, I can confidently say that interest is on the rise. It’s not mass adoption at all, but the finer spots around town are now curating some incredibly detailed and thoughtful bottles. So, if it’s happening in LA, it's certainly happening elsewhere.
Arguably, the specialist glassware for whisky drinking is more established in Europe and some parts of the UK. A tough nut to crack, in essence; how do you plan on breaking through?
The first plan of action is building relationships with distilleries. I’m very excited and proud to have partners like The Cairn, Gordon and MacPhail’s new distillery, and Holyrood be a part of this journey. A dream come true. The enthusiasm from those in the distilling world has been beyond any expectation. They are proving that there is an interest and need for glassware like Bennuaine’s. People care so much about craft and detail today.
My thanks again to Bryan for taking the time to answer my questions.
Experiment 4
Whisky Sponge Spongezilla
Ledaig, 12yo, sherry butt, 53%
Glencairn
Nose: Treacle sponge, peat and plenty of sherry.
Taste: Lots to get your tongue around here, and a very good performance from the Glencairn. The finish is a little lacking, but we’ll see how that comes across through the other protagonists.
Copita
Nose: Less fragrant, more punchy, oily and density.
Taste: The body and oiliness comes through strongly, and in a robust fashion.
Harmony
Nose: More rounded and detailed, less of the punchy alcohol but still enough to dig into.
Taste: Strong on the coastal elements and peat. I feel I can distinguish the elements more in this glass.
Bennuaine
Nose: After the Harmony and copita it feels too lightweight in term of character and body.
Taste: Very pleasant, less of the rugged nature. A more approachable experience.
Blender’s
Nose: Yep, a blast of you-know-what, old wooden planks, and toffee.
Taste: The most alcoholic of the array by far and the longest finish, with plenty of smouldering character in-between.
Thoughts
Aesthetically, the glass is eye-catching. What surprised me is the lightness of it, which I can see being a problem for less nimble-handed individuals or those that like to feel a certain weight from their glass—it’ll take time. It struck me like going from a traditional champagne flute to a plastic equivalent at a party, because the hosts won’t trust you with their fine glassware. There’s an almost subconscious belief that it is almost too light (unless you pour big like sis to the brim), and with this comes a mistaken opinion that the material used is too brittle because it is so thin and weightless.
So, perhaps there is a degree of training and familiarity to be acquired with a glass such as this. In terms of pricing, it isn’t a contender for the lower end or the everyday segment of the market. To be fair, I don’t expect it was ever intended to be either given that it is handblown etc. Nor is it for the shallow brigade who wear pink trousers, tweed and have sculpted beards; individuals who like to be seen with a certain whisky—or whiskey for that matter.
After all these pours across various glassware and different styles of whisky, what strikes me most about the Bennuaine is that you need to take a different approach. Bryan will disagree with me on this, but we all have our own tailored tasting styles. Yes, you can just use it like any other whisky glass and it’ll perform fine. To enhance the experience though, even a simple thing such as drinking from it, requires refinement. Initially, I found it all too easy to pour onto the back of the tongue and down the throat in quick fashion. Possibly the lightness was a factor in this, but the design also goes against what you’re traditionally used to. As with most things, practice is important; as with the Blender’s glass, you soon come to learn the dos and don’ts.
The whisky connoisseurs who pour and spend a considerable amount of time with the liquid do need a more practical and durable solution. Some individuals will be able to afford the glass as their everyday option, but the affordability of cheaper offerings is the main driver. The Bennuaine comes in at £38, which is above the £25 pricing of the Blenders’ glass and doesn’t take into account postage. Shipping from Los Angeles, the package was around the same price as the glass, with it landing safely on my door within a couple of days—but this might not be a factor going forward from our interview.
Ultimately, all I can say is, how much importance and outlay do you place in your whisky glass? If you are drinking increasingly expensive single malt and delving into the rabbit hole where I tend to find myself nowadays, it is worth trying at least.
My return to these five main protagonists, including a couple that have been gathering dust, has been enjoyable and fun. It also confirmed that there isn’t one single solution that fits everything, and the Glencairn and copita stood up well to the fancier competition. The Blender’s comes into its own in small pours and lower proofs, whereas I felt the Bennuaine lost ground here and Bryan touches upon this in our discussion. While all measures were the same, it felt like the surface area versus the oxygen within the sphere (when covered) pitched things a little too much in favour of oxidisation. At higher strengths, it performed better but still lacked the texture and density I got from the Harmony shape. It's all food for thought and geekily interesting to some.
As I tend to pour old blends and older single malts at lower proof, the Bennuaine won’t leapfrog the Blender’s or the Harmony in my tasting order. If I hadn’t discovered the Harmony several years ago and come to rely upon it as my main vessel, I would have been more impressed by the Bennuaine, so arguably it depends on where you’re coming from.
Following the Spongezilla pour, I felt the Bennuaine was the weakest of the five in terms of nosing. My instincts felt that possibly it needed more than a 2cl pour, so to answer this question, I doubled up. For once, I was wrong—it still felt timid with the double measure. So, maybe that’s confirmation of where it might fit into my array of glassware; something that takes the edge off strong pours and makes them more palatable without the addition of water on the palate.
Perhaps the best format is to line up glasses with a group of friends and let them decide? I expect there won’t be one single outright winner and that familiarity, in some cases, will win the day. I’m happy to have all five (six if you want to include the tumbler which I excluded from the tests for obvious reasons) in my cabinet. I expect my own research will continue with the pours that await me in the coming years, with the Rastal Harmony being the everyday option but also ably assisted by the pack.
DM