In the townland of Meenacanon, above Kilcar, Donegal, Frank Carr distilled his poitín from peated grains, molasses and mischief. His poitín was famed for being exceptionally soft and drawing you in with sweet turf smoke and temptation. Today we carry on his way. Unfiltered. This is Frank’s spirit handed down – we call it Lionnir (Lunn-er). Named for the dazzle of sunlight dancing on the waves in the bay; for the giddy feeling from an illicit sip; and the twinkle in a distiller’s eye. Straight from the still. Bright, soft, citrus fresh, coffee, pipe smoke and mischief.