Michel Couvreur or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love French Whisky

A preliminary disclaimer:  This is an anecdote, not an endorsement. I owe my discovery of Michel Couvreur's sherry cask-aged whiskies to an all-too-short drinking session with an Aussie bartender, a French rum ambassador and an uncharacteristically (by his own standards) sober Irishman.  It went a little something like this: Having selflessly liberated our rum ambassador …