"Hedonism" has an unhealthy sin-drenched set of associations with it: one imagines lounging in a hot tub in the foothills, surrounded by nubile young androgynes and voluptuous, zaftig non-androgynes, nibbling on delectably ripe, pip-less raspberries, having the finest of drinks poured down your throat as the sun slowly sets over the Pacific (or Atlantic, should you be in France, or more improbably, Scotland). Conversely, you could just picture drab economists gloating about hedon increases as they quantify human pleasure as a gauge of the frequency of and engine driving business transactions. Meh.
Behold the Compass Box! Sledgehammer of the Gods, Revoker of Long-Held Associations and Insinuations, the Poetry-Maker of the Senses! Did the crafty mix-master DJ Compass Box have the name first and create a flavor profile to match, or did DJ CB alchemize this magical elixir first, and then realize that its husky, dusky sensuality, its Rubenesque rotundity, required the name "Hedonism"?
A pecan/roast hazelnut mash-up on the back end is quickly overshadowed by grapefruit rinds soaked in Gran Marnier and smokey bacon, minus the bacon. Orange pekoe tea sips, without the pekoe, and sangria, without the 'sang' or the 'ria,' both polka and square-dance on your tongue accompanied by Microplane-zested lime angels.
On the scale of improbable yet remarkable accomplishments--
The Compass Box Hedonism Limited Release is the Dionysius 11 moonshot--Okay, we all know that it was Apollo 11, but it should have been Dionysius, igniting all manner of revelry and romping with Artemis, Armstrong, and Aldrin, the AAA of Amazing.