Usually, Scotch makes me think of the following in a sort of randomized blurry associative mental whirlwind: country clubs, ascots, self-satisfied chortling, jodhpurs, stubborn institutional white privilege. But, hey, turns out Scotch can be fun! It’s the foundation of The Penicillin, a sweet, tart, spicy, summery drink brightened with kitchen-cupboard remedies: lemon juice, ginger and honey. I suspect the Islay Scotch’s notes of earth, brine and gold are there to add dignity as much as flavor. If not for that, I’d probably be drinking this out of the two crazy straw-connected tumblers on either side of my highball pool-party hat! Thanks, Scotch and dignity!
In The Venetian, 702-414-1945
