How it all began. the whiskey that changed my life.

How it all began: everyone has their own stories to tell, this is mine.

Going to the Basilica of Santa Maria del Popolo in Rome means coming across magnificent works; among these, the Cerasi Chapel. On behalf of Tiberio Cerasi in September 1600 Michelangelo Merisi, known as Caravaggio, was commissioned two large canvases: the Conversion of Saint Paul and the Martyrdom of Saint Peter. Now, we will not speak of Peter, but of Paul yes: blinded by the divine light he fell from his horse, and was urged to be a witness of what he saw and heard.

In our life experiences, how many have happened to be electrocuted on the road to Damascus? In a figurative sense, that is… I had approached whiskey a bit like everyone else, in the pubs and clubs of my city, and then moved to Rome after my studies for an important job opportunity. I had a few bottles at home, those found in the main supermarkets and little more.

I won't tell you all the events of my life, also because they could dramatically increase the reading time of this article. Let's get to the point: in 2019 I decided to close the winter with a very dangerous two days at the Roma Whiskey Festival. I tried good things and I was enthusiastic, but I still didn't know what was about to happen to me… I saw a particularly busy stand, I decided to stop and found a guy with an exaggerated homeless man and a boy with glasses at the counter; behind them a tall, slender man with a mustache. Yes, exactly, I was in the house of Lost Dram Selections, an importer of distilleries and independent brands.

I asked politely: "Will you let me drink something unforgettable?". The bearded boy, who I later discovered was called Matteo, smiled at me and poured me a dram: "Here, try it!". I had never tried such a whiskey until then, its aromas and persistence seemed endless to me. That was the malt that changed my perception of taste and, in hindsight, my life. That one-keg 27-year-old Ben Nevis, selected from an independent brand, was something so satisfying, that I said to myself, “I don't want to drink anything else in my life, except these things”.

I decided to buy that first fruit but I arrived late, they had already sold them all. Suddenly the man with the mustache appeared (yes, he, Fabio Ermoli) who exclaimed: "I'll check if there is one left in stock". I didn't know whether to hope for it or not, the fact is that we exchanged contacts so as not to lose sight of each other.

A few weeks later, to my great luck, that nectar arrived in the house. So it was and today I jealously keep that bottle. Closed. In a closet. It's something I don't do often but in this case it's linked to a beautiful memory that I don't want to affect in any way. You know, tastes change and we become more and more demanding… What if I don't like it anymore like I did then? What if I'm disappointed? Sometimes it's better this way, it's right to remain suspended in your own memories.

With Matteo we became friends, the real ones. I collaborate continuously with Fabio.

Today we host Matteo's memories of what happened those days:

March 2019, Saturday evening. The tiredness of the first day of the festival is felt, as well as the alcohol of some tastings made during the day to test the new releases.
As it has always been: dozens and dozens of bottles in front of me. All lined up, more or less in alphabetical or chromatic order. Hunter Laing, Morrison, Glen Allachie and Spey. Next to me Fabio, Germana and my shoulder (and I hers) Nicolò.
We see this young dude arrive, bearded, new... never seen... as always with Nicolò you try to frame the character (an expert, a whiskey nerd, a newbie thirsty for whiskey and knowledge!?)
He has a nice face, that of someone who has already drunk a lot, but who wants to drink more. Start talking. He looks polished and competent.
The accent is nice, something from the central Adriatic coast and a bit of Roman dialect.
The ritual questions start to understand what he is looking for.
A bit like Ollivander I think it's the whiskey that chooses the drinker; I know what's on the counter and the drinker (often) doesn't know what he wants.
Bourbon hogshead…long aged…full grade…but yeah sure Ben Nevis 1990 aged 27yo!
The liquid flows first into the glass, then into the new friend's mouth… it rises in the back of the nose and descends towards the heart.
The eyes begin to sparkle, the brain becomes intoxicated and the soul vibrates…
The boy already loved whiskey, but had not yet understood its potential.
After that Ben Nevis came a Hunter Laing Orkney 11yo, loaded with his signature honey, apple and pear aromas complemented by that iconic wisp of heather smoke.
Like Archimedes in the bathtub: Eureka!
He looks at us and says, "That's what Scotch Whiskey is, that's what I want to drink."
The road is marked, the first step is taken.
From this meeting (and thousands of phone calls later), Morisco Spirits was born.

Matthew Zampini

This was how it all started. Hoping that you enjoyed this article and that it may have dusted some memories in your mind, here are the suggestions of the week to stimulate your curiosity.

Do you also want to be struck by the road to Damascus? Try with this:

Or, why not…

To the next article… Sláinte!