First of all, a note on spelling. It turns out that whiskey with an ‘e’ is not just a weird American thing like leaving the ‘u’ out of color, flavor and mom. Irish whiskey is also spelt that way. So: Ireland and America make whiskey. Everywhere else makes whisky.

I just got back from a couple of days in Belfast, and I couldn’t go to Ireland without actually sampling my first Irish whiskey, could I?

Actually, that’s exactly what happened.

I wandered the streets of central Belfast, from the Northern Whig tavern to the Common Grounds cafe on University Ave. I looked for an Irish whiskey, and all I could find, in a shop called Dr:nk (yes, that’s a colon — no, I don’t think that’s a regional spelling thing) was a bottle of Bushmills.

I spoke to the gentleman behind the counter, who assured me that it was a very good introduction to the Irish whiskies. But he didn’t strike me as very convincing. As a result, I only bought a quarter bottle (£5). It’s a blend, and actually, it comes from the world’s oldest licensed distillery.

I was quite keen to get my hands on a single malt, but the few he had in stock were pretty pricey — and he didn’t strike me as the right chap to source my advice from.

I tried again later in a restaurant I’d popped into for dessert and coffee — but again, I had to explain what a single malt was, and that no, Bells didn’t count. So… between that and the ‘no alcohol you didn’t buy from us’ rule at the hostel, no actual whiskey was consumed in Northern Ireland — and it’s only now that I’m back home in Birmingham recovering from a 14-hour journey that I’m sampling this particular drink.

It’s nothing special — a little sweet, none of the smokiness you get with the Islay (EYE-la) malts — but it’s a pleasant enough drink with a splash of water in it.

In fact, if you were going to drink your whiskey with ice in it, then you really wouldn’t be doing any damage by choosing this one to do it with. Ice, it turns out, ruins the nose on a whisky (no ‘e’)– and that’s half the fun of a decent malt. Well, okay — less than half, but a decent proportion.

Still… there’s something nice about a dram with a few ice cubes in it. You could do it with the Bushmills without a trace of regret. And it’s pretty inexpensive, without being, y’know, awful like some blends I could name…

Bushmills do actually make a 16 year-old single malt, which sounds really pretty great. That’s not what I have here.