Kilchoman Machir Bay
Official Bottling | 46% ABV
Islay Pilgrimage
I’ve yet to make the pilgrimage to Islay, but I’ve formed an imaginary flavour landscape in my head, and I’m trying to convince my partner to drive me around the island so that I can drink the whisky. Hear me out.
I’m lucky enough to have a partner who also likes whisky, even if she’s not as far down the rabbit hole as I am. She’s been to the Isle of Whisky before and has visited a few of the distilleries there. At that time, she was lucky enough to be driven around by a gin-loving friend of hers who doesn’t drink whisky, and so needless to say, my partner had a grand old time.
My slow-burn campaign of persuasion is resting on two threads. One, that she’s been before and had a fabulous time, and so, knowing my level of whisky nerd-dom, wouldn’t she like me to have the same experience? The prospect of another trip to Islay is, I think, moving things in my direction. And two, as a writer for the best whisky site on the Internet, I need to go to Islay so that I can, ahem, do research to inform my reviews. “You see, honey? I’m not doing this for myself . . . I’m doing it for The Readers!” Her response to this colourfully suggested that she’s not nearly as devoted to scientific research as I am.
So not having been yet, but having tried multiple expressions from all of the Islay distilleries that have released products so — or rather, the current eight — I’ve developed something of an imaginary landscape of the place in my mind. I’m following here in Tyree’s footsteps of his recent Tour of Islay, in which he included a stop at our distillery of the day.
The south coast is, of course, dominated by the big three of Ardbeg (lime and meat drippings), Lagavulin (vegetal smoky peat), and Laphroaig (iodine smoke) — not only geographically but, for me at least, in the broad similarities in their flavour profiles (at least compared to the isle’s other distilleries). Bunnahabhain with its salty dried fruit nuttiness sits apart from the south coast three as its house style is unpeated (although they do produce some lovely peated expressions, particularly bottled by IBs), as does Bruichladdich with its barley-rich, farmyard-flavoured core offerings. But Bunna’s and Bruichladdich’s peated expressions too are quite distinct from the south coast three. (Caol Ila’s briny smokiness, of course, has its magical alchemy, being great no matter what kind of cask it sleeps away in.)
No matter “where” I travel with whatever Islay dram I have in my glass, I’m almost always glad I made the trip. The Islay of my imagination is thus populated by territories of flavour and experience, sea winds of distillate aromas, peaty lochs and rivers of similarities and contrasts, and sensory wonders of taste and discovery.
The niche that Kilchoman has carved out as an “Islay” distillery is nicely distinct. It’s peated, yes, but very different from its home isle competitors. The distillery website states that after an average of 10 hours of malting, their barley has a phenol level of 20 ppm. They also bring in some malt from the Port Ellen facility with a ppm of 50. With Ardbeg at 55 ppm, Lagavulin at 35 ppm, and Laphroaig at 45 ppm, Kilchoman’s overall output is technically less peated than these three, but I don’t really consider Kilchoman to be “lightly peated.” Nor, I think, do most other folks. Well, maybe compared to Bruichladdich’s Octomore, but let’s keep things simple for now.
Machir Bay is, of course, Kilchoman’s core expression, and bottled with an integrity presentation of 46%, no chill filtration, and at natural colour. While its matured in both bourbon and sherry casks, the distillery website tells us that the “high proportion of bourbon barrels create a distinct balance of classic Islay character and fresh floral complexity.” Let’s see…
Review
Kilchoman Machir Bay, Official Release, 46% ABV
Paid £42; widely available
Nose
Citrus and gentle ash/matchstick smoke. Slightly buttery and biscuity. There is the floral element that the distillery mentions, alongside a sweetness that feels like very light honey in the background.
Palate
Sweet, citrus/lemon, and biscuits. Lightly ashy peat lathered in citrus butter. Lightly floral but more honeyed. Almost lightly salty. Nice lightly oily texture and mouthfeel. Bright and flavourful.
The Dregs
This is very good stuff. Full of flavour, characterful, and with more than enough complexity to maintain interest.
Yes, it’s young, and you can taste the youth in the brightness of the distillate. If you’re an age statement purist, fair enough – you do you. But you are seriously missing out some great bottles that, in my humble opinion, easily beat many age-stated bottlings. You can also check out Earie’s recent take on the cask strength version of Machir Bay.
In the midst of chasing the latest special edition or limited release, sometimes we can lose sight of how enjoyable core expressions can be. We do a pretty good job here at Dramface of covering core standard expressions, but I find that in my own flavour chase and exploration, I’ve started to “go back” to some core bottlings that I skipped out on earlier in my journey in my haste to get the Latest Thing, thinking that special editions were automatically “better” than a distillery’s core expression. In the case of this Machir Bay, that was a very foolish mistake.
Score: 6/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. DD
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