As he said this, I was again sniffing the fourth pour. I couldn’t nail the scent. It was very familiar, musky, sort of floral, I mused out loud. Someone suggested perfume. And then it clicked. I was smelling my great-grandmother’s apartment — the tray of perfume bottles she had that I used to play with when I was a kid.
— From A beginner's guide to whiskey: How to get into everyone's favorite booze at the Chicago Tribune.
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