My grandmother was not a big drinker, but when she drank, it was bourbon all the way. Old fashioneds, Manhattans, you name it. As a kid, I was anti–maraschino cherries, which is too bad because I bet I would have gotten her bourbon-soaked ones with one pleading look.

My first experience with bourbon was when I was 16 and in New Orleans with my parents. I thought I should order something geographically appropriate and got myself a mint julep on Bourbon Street (which in point of fact is not named for the booze but for the French royal family on the throne when New Orleans was founded). I was sorely disappointed. I thought it would be this cool, light, refreshing boozy slushie, but my teenage palate was accustomed to sodas and juices (and, to be honest, vodka and gin when I could get it). I was definitely not ready for bourbon. My mother laughed at me. I should have gotten a Pimm’s Cup.

As it was, I did not develop a taste for it until my 20s, when I was scouting around for a drink of my own that was not a rum and coke or a screwdriver or Zima. Thinking of my grandmother, I started ordering Manhattans. The bartender at the place I went to on the regular with the rest of the copydesk made fun of me for being a granny—and then the swing revival hit and he thanked me profusely for making him learn how to make them before EVERYONE started ordered them.

I am not, however, a bourbon connoisseur. I have never had Pappy Van Winkle, and although I’d love to try it, I worry that it would be wasted on me. My go-to when I go out is Maker’s Mark, which makes me distinctly average and dull at the top of the bell curve. I have a half-bottle of Bird Dog in my pantry that my bougie snob expert friend tells me is “OK for mixers.” (I just liked the Irish setter on the label and intend to give the bottle to my mom as a decoration when it’s empty.)

I had another friend who took the bourbon tour through Kentucky and loved it. My husband is a teetotaler, so I’ve been hesitant to consider this. Although he enjoys seeing me soused, I can’t imagine this would be much fun for him. (To his credit, he did seem to be amused sitting through a moonshine tasting at the Mob Museum in Vegas. I’m probably selling him short.) We have talked about doing a combined bourbon/bluegrass thing. Maybe the time has come!