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So I found this cozy bar in Cockeysville, Maryland, called fiVe. It’s a martini bar attached to Christopher Daniel, a quaint little restaurant that specializes in steak and seafood. This writeup, however, is neither about delicious beef nor martinis. Nay, this article is about a plastic bottle vodka named Burnett’s.

I discovered this bar a little over two years ago with my friend Rob. We strolled into the place, which rests in an unassuming shopping center just off Padonia Road, and had a seat on one of their couches in the lounge. We both had dirty martinis and talked about the usual things – work, relationships, music, politics, along with various other musings and discussions. The place was nice, but for some reason it didn’t keep my interest enough to venture back. That is, until a few weeks ago when my lady friend wanted to go out to a place she’d never been before. I mentioned fiVe, and she immediately was all over it. A friend of hers was in town, and I had band practice until late, so it was decided that I would meet them there.

I show up to the place around 10pm and find them chatting as good friends do in a place like this, over a few specialty martinis and a food menu. I pull up a chair and enthusiastically join the conversation. The conversation goes from one end of the spectrum to the other and after a few hours, the bartender comes a-knocking…

“Who wants a shot?”

Now, when a bartender asks you this, it can only mean one thing – trouble. No good will ever come of this, ever. Either you wind up paying for a shot you were goaded into ordering, or you get a free shot that you never would have ordered in the first place; one that you will likely regret the next morning. This one, you see, was the latter. We reluctantly accepted the bartender’s offer and were then presented with chilled shots of Burnett’s Orange Vodka. I must bring up a rule of mine that I employ from time to time, with few exceptions – stay away from liquor in plastic bottles. Typically, if they skimp on packaging, they skimp on manufacturing. This night, however, we forego that warning.

The shot goes down hard, like you had an M-80 in your stomach with a long fuse reaching up your esophagus and out your mouth. It’s molten liquid all the way down, and when it finally reaches your stomach, it knocks the wind out of you. I can’t imagine anyone drinking this stuff on the regular and can only see it being used in rail cocktails.

Burnett’s website talks about their vodkas’ smoothness and superior taste. All I saw was fire and orange flavor like the kind you get from daytime cough syrup. I can’t recommend this to anyone.