2012 edition, 2012 release, 46%, black mold, kilchoman, liquid death, lutheran, machir bay, pro wrestling, review, scoresby, scotch, thoma, walmart, Whiskey, whisky
About the only clever thing I can say or do to review this edition of Kilchoman is to provide you with the following photos and ask: What do the following two images hold in common?
If you guessed that both contain an object that seems inappropriately placed, then you’d be right.
Walking through the local Walmart, I discovered that this store’s manager was comfortably satisfied putting an energy drink cooler right between two shelf units in the bakery. Um… I guess I can see how someone might associate getting jacked up on a caffeine drink with choosing the right loaf of French bread. I mean, who am I to judge such a reasonable culinary mindset?
And so it is with the photo of my liquor cabinet. The Kilchoman doesn’t belong. And I won’t belabor this review with any unnecessary rhetoric. Quite simply, this whisky sucks…badly. In fact, I can say that I have finally found an edition that rivals the likes of Scoresby.
The nose is harsh, like a full inhalation of black mold…or perhaps the soured smell of a semi-pro wrestling arena restroom overflowing and spilling into the corridors with patrons who wreak of sweat, urine, and cheap cigars…and maybe some puke.
The palate is thoroughly gasoline flavored with a little bit of freshly flushed sewage to give it warmth.
The finish, well, that’s a little harder to describe. I suppose I might compare it to throwing myself off of a medium-sized cliff as opposed to a canyon. Ricocheting against the craggled and jagged fascia, you hit the bottom. Having smeared for a few hundred feet, you finally come to a stop and die. But in your last breath, you give thanks that, as I said, at least the finish was medium and not long.
Overall, on an enjoyment scale of 1 to 10, with 10 being extraordinary, I’d say it is a negative 437.912, which is almost an even negative 438. I took a few extra decimal points away because the bottle presentation was decently enticing and yet I felt a bit betrayed.
By the way, the bottle in the photo is nearly empty only because I started to dump it, but I remembered that I still needed to take the photo and stopped just in time.
Sounds like you’re not a fan of the peat. I find after a few tastings, it grows on you, sort of like a really good Limburger cheese.
Sent from my iPhone
I love peat. This is just plain ol’ terrible.
Every Day Adventures in Asia said:
Hmm… interesting reaction… While certainly not one I’d care to keep in my cabinet… I didn’t find it such a disaster. However personal taste is just that – quite personal. I sometimes also find with whisky, the mood one samples in and the overall environment does influence. 😉
Yes, the mood matters. It had been a long day of struggle, and yet, I cannot recant. 🙂
I’ve been looking forward to this review after your comment on my post. It’s a shame the whisky from such a promising distillery failed to leave a positive impression on you. It’s funny how different our experiences are, I miss the nose and light sweet peaty palate of my now long finished bottle. Slainte!
You can have the rest of mine. I haven’t dumped it yet.
Thanks for stopping by!
single malt mike said:
Since discovering your blog, I’ve been scrolling through your entries with great enjoyment, nodding with agreement or laughing out loud…until I came to this item. While I gather that you are not a fan of young whiskies (and Machir Bay is still very young), I fear you may have done it a disservice. Certainly what you describe is at odds with the 2014 release I recently tried, which was a spice cake of a dram, moderately leavened by the peat, especially when I added a few drops of water.
Kilchoman is a work in progress: come back in a couple years. I did, after being disappointed by some of their earlier efforts, and am glad I did.
This one sucks, Mike. Plain and simple. Sorry. Hopefully the review at least made you laugh.