I hadn’t been in Kentucky for 2 hours and already I had done something gauche as hell.

I could place blame on the fatigue of spending 2 extra hours on the plane as we waited on the La Guardia Tarmac due to some rain. Or maybe I could attribute it to my should-be-patented lack of attention to detail.

After landing in Louisville two hours late, we headed straight for Lilly’s to have dinner with Brown-Forman’s head of PR and Woodford Reserve’s Master Distiller Chris Morris. For whatever reason, I didn’t register who we were dining with until we were halfway through the meal.

As we sat down to enjoy some sure-to-be fantastic edibles, we ordered a round of drinks.  As the waitress compiled the orders one-by-one, I failed to realized that all the whiskey that was ordered was from Woodford.  Then it was my turn to order:

“I’ll have a Maker’s Mark on the rocks!”

the table got quiet, and Mike had a sphincter-tightening look on his face.


So there you have it.  I ordered a Maker’s Mark on the Rocks while dining with Woodford Reserve’s Master Distiller. Because I’m an idiot.

Mind you, they took it in stride and with grace; We had a fantastic dining experience, and shared stories of finding and drinking spirits of times of yore. Their love of Bourbon is worn on their sleeves, and it translates into heartfelt, memorable conversations.

The food at Lilly’s was fantastic, especially these fried chicken thighs:



The breading on the chicken is the stuff of legends, and paired wonderfully with my gauche-flavored Maker’s Mark on the rocks.

Last night’s move is now known as “Ordering a Maker’s.”



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