I've Been Sick . . .

I woke up on Sunday morning, got out of bed, walked to the kitchen, and got incredibly about-to-pass-out dizzy. I made it back to bed and tried to figure out if I had accidentally ingested vodka during the night but saw no evidence of it, so started exploring other reasons for a sudden onset of dizziness. While I was contemplating the bedroom ceiling, I became aware that I was really, overwhelmingly tired, even after about 10 hours of sleep. The longer I stayed in bed, the worse I felt, and finally blossomed out with a fever, cementing the undeniable fact that I had . . . a virus.

The thing with viruses is you're never sure just which direction they're going to take, so I dosed myself and my stomach gingerly all day and hoped that this would be a fly-by-night 24-hour variety that would just make me feel unwell and then politely go away.

Needless to say, I did no cooking on Sunday OR Monday, which was my fever-free day. I still felt like I'd been run over by a fleet of Ford F-150's. I had every good intention of going to work today, truly I did, but my body had other plans that obviously included staying in bed, so I did.

However, as an old-fashioned girl raised by a traditional Greek mother, I can vouch for the medicinal qualities of a good hard liquor when one's stomach is feeling less than stellar. MacAllen 12-year-old Scotch has been my best friend for the past two days -- not gulped, but sipped in order to soothe the Mt. Vesuvius that's rumbling in my digestive tract.

Even when I'm not sick, I like a good single-malt Scotch, straight up, no diluting ice or tonic or water. I love the smoky overtones and the different flavors; just like a great wine, great Scotch has a complexity that should be savored (even if you are sipping it to keep from throwing up). At this moment we have three brands in the liquor cabinet (a/k/a the top shelf of the pantry): Glenfidditch, MacAllen and Laphroaig. MacAllen is the smoothest and most delicate of the three, and therefore my choice for medicinal purposes. Glenfidditch has a stronger flavor with a more pronounced oak finish. Laphroaig is the bad boy of the trio. It is unabashedly peaty and vibrant with oak and sock-it-to-you flavor that some people find unattractive in a Scotch, but I appreciate because of the wild Scottish isle where it originates. Tasting that Scotch, you can feel the North Sea winds whipping the trees on the island, and the wild beauty that is part of Scotland's many charms. That's my go-to Scotch on a cold winter night after a leg of lamb or rib roast with Yorkshire pudding.