Kilkerran Heavily Peated Batch 6
Official Release | 57.4% ABV
Expectations dictate much of our day-to-day life.
Some pessimists suggest setting low expectations so that we will rarely be disappointed. However, I feel this represents such a distrust in others and such an assumption of the fallibility of their character that it limits what we might otherwise achieve.
For instance, we have certain expectations regarding our teammates in sport, work, and other social settings. To have no expectations of such people is tantamount to rejecting membership of that team. Likewise we naturally have certain expectations of our romantic partners: usually, the most successful relationships are predicated on open and honest dialogue of those expectations.
At the opposite pole is the notion that without setting high expectations, we are doomed to fall into mediocrity. This argument is also a little one-dimensional, since it conflates internal drive with external outcomes, rendering all eventualities the sole responsibility of the belief holder. As Captain Picard so eloquently put it, “It is possible to commit no mistakes and still lose. That is not a weakness; that is life.” Generally, setting unrealistically high expectations is bound to lead to disappointment: for example, no matter how hard I might strive, I am biologically ill-equipped for running. Even had I trained from the age of walking, there is little to no chance that I would have reached Usain Bolt level.
Of course there are many more moderate approaches between these two extremes, one of the most common being, “Hope for the best, plan for the worst.” That’s a nice sentiment, but to me it somehow embodies something of both of the polar views without actually suggesting anything useful. I prefer something the late, great Dr. Hawking once said regarding his ALS: “My expectations were reduced to zero when I was 21. Everything since then has been a bonus.”
On the face value, Dr. Hawking’s statement appears similar to the first philosophical pole: life without expectations. However, I view it as pointing to something more profound. When we adjust expectations to suit parameters, we can achieve goals that satiate our motivational drives without chasing improbable outcomes. Dr. Hawking was initially given only two years to live at the time of his ALS diagnosis (1963), leading to an understandably depressive and academically inactive stage of his life. When it became apparent that this timeline for the diagnosis was inaccurate, he returned to work with the support of his doctoral advisor and subsequently had his thesis approved in 1966. In the same year, he won the Adams Prize for his work on mathematics applied to singularities and space-time geometry.
The point to be made here for whisky is that we should also consider our expectations in context and, when necessary, adjust them expectations to suit new parameters. What expectations do we impose on whisky? Well, they are myriad, and they often reflect the qualities and values most important to the given individual. Is the whisky full-flavoured and textural for the ABV or just hot? Is it pale or dark for the cask influence? Is it expectedly phenolic for the PPM count? Probably the most contested expectation I can think of in today’s market is price: we all ought to harbour very strict expectations of our drams in relation to the price we pay since it feeds the demand portion of supply-and-demand. Again, folks, vote with your wallets and purses.
One of the most common origins of all these expectations is probably a whisky’s age. It’s a fair metric for measuring several details, as long as the right assumptions are made. For instance, price: a single malt in its single digits ought to be an order of magnitude cheaper than the same malt in its 30s, right? Also, the degree of cask influence ought to increase steadily, if not in a totally linear fashion. Certainly we expect the overall character of the whisky to be significantly altered over the decades: new-make volatiles ought to have dissipated or morphed away whilst certain desirable components should arise from the bulk chemistry.
Yes, age is an important factor, and I don’t think anyone worth their salt will argue that point. But how much should we set our expectations by that metric? Five years ago, folks like Ralfy would have said it was fundamental to our consideration. These days though, with the slew of distilleries using STR casks and smaller format casks with fewer previous uses; and the proliferation of peat, fermentation and distillate-driven whiskies which shine in their single digits… Well, I think we ought to adjust our expectations accordingly. The ever looming threat of premiumisation in whisky pushes us in this direction too, since the market assumes a top-down stance starting with the higher age statements, leaving most NAS bottlings less affected.
On the topic of NAS bottlings, I feel one of our biggest present issues is that big industry players often lead lawmaking and policy. For every Ardnamurchan or Compass Box seeking to give the consumer transparency, there are the Diageos and Pernod Ricards who may or may not be leaning on organisations like the SWA to quell such direct-to-consumer information. There are distilleries and bottlers making excellent whisky with what we’re told is a fairly broad range of ages in the mix that have to make the decision to either bottle as an NAS or use the youngest component in the mix regardless of the percentage by volume liquid that age takes up in the blend. Understandably, many choose NAS.
I’m sure many of you have also heard about the outright hypocrisy surrounding the use of Tequila/Mezcal casks under “traditional practices” in Scotch—utter poppycock. Until such a time as the SWA and other organisations play catch-up with progress in the industry, there will remain barriers between the customer and the producer. So in the absence of transparency, what can we do?
I’ve harped on about blind tasting many times already, but again it finds applicability. When we blind taste whiskies against each other, we inherit no expectations and thus must decide independently how we feel about the drams, using nothing more than our smell and taste (perhaps also colour perception, though there be dragons…). Ultimately, age is just one among dozens of production variables which we ought to keep in mind when evaluating a whisky. If what we like in a blind tasting happens to be old, then so be it. If we happen to enjoy something that is young or uses a wide variety of ages under an NAS banner to achieve its flavour, then we should be all the happier for it — younger stock should hold its pricing for longer in today’s market.
Review
Kilkerran Heavily Peated Batch 6, 57.4% ABV
£65-70, paid AUS$125
Glengyle has been instrumental in helping redefine so many whisky drinker’s expectations. For instance, they were one of the first (to my knowledge at any rate) to invest in the “work in progress/while we wait” style of NAS bottlings. I’m sure that, back then, there was much suspicion and trepidation on this front from enthusiasts given the mood at the time, however we now enjoy their age statement releases and think back both fondly and jealously of the days when these and their early 8YO cask strength bottlings sat patiently on store shelves. How fickle is fate?
Anyway, in their wake the likes of Ardnamurchan and Compass Box have indeed risen to the occasion and now spoil us with an armada of “technically NAS” releases (although obviously circumnavigating SWA restrictions via websites and QR codes) which we gratefully and rightfully lap up at every juncture. I say again to all of you patient enough to wade this far through my drivel: adjust your expectations of whisky in the years to come, especially regarding age, and you will be rewarded handsomely.
Nose
Well the sherry component is pretty clean to start with, so hallelujah! That said, there are the typical Kilkerran yeasty tones embellished with a little quintessentially Campbeltown pickled onion and wet plaster, though it misses the tropical fruit thioesters of the 12 and 16. Speaking of age, there is still a little youth here (slight acetic zip), which suits the profile IMHO.
The peat isn’t enormous, much the same as the other batches, but what’s there is good; slightly earthy and piney lapsang souchong, a strong dose of smoked paprika, diesel, coastal rock pools, mild horse dung, lemon oil, dill, and other slightly floral/burnt-herb terpenes. The sherry lends a slight meatiness with touches of fried portobellos, a little soy sauce, roasted cacao nibs and trace dark stone fruits. A splash of water opens up some of the cask’s vanilla and spices, plus some straw-and-lucerne cereal maltiness.
Palate
Deftly handled blending of the sherry components, which are more pronounced here, to be sure, but well integrated and contributing to the savoury/meaty qualities more than adding sweetness. The distillery character rings a pure chord of grapefruit, yeast slurry and plaster-oriented thiols over more good malt. Meanwhile the peat is much the same as the nose but with a slightly fishy/kippery addition (pyridines?) and a more pronounced citrus angle. There are some typical sherry dried fruits too, but they're relatively restrained.
Otherwise, there's loud splashes of dried chilli and black pepper spices before the bourbon casks come in to balance with moderate vanilla, butter menthol and soft coconut milk. The youth is also a little more prominent here, but there's decidedly more oak influence and generally a greater feeling of maturity than I recall from any of the previous batches. Retronasal picks up just a hint of passionfruit on the finish, which may be a teaser for more explicit tropical fruits from these releases in years to come.
The Dregs
As with any of these batches, we must set appropriate expectations. We know them to be relatively young whiskies showcasing spirit characteristics first and foremost. This is exactly the kind of dram that suits a NAS release. Of course, Glengyle enjoys such a self-flagellating following — myself included, naturally — that even if the distillery slapped a 3yo age statement on this it would sell, but I think there’s a good chance many would complain about the price point more stubbornly if they were to do so. For the record, I’m not suggesting at all that this is 3-year-old whisky; my stab-in-the-dark guess would be 6 to 8 on average, but the point stands.
This may be my favourite batch in this series so far (sorry, Earie!), though I’d have to pour a vertical to find out for sure. There are a few oddities about it — not uncommon for Kilkerran releases — and as I’ve written about previously, that tends to work for my preferences. The price-to-quality ratio is also excellent as ever for these heavily peated bottlings, assuming one can purchase them at the RRP.
On that note, if you’ll please excuse me, I’ll pass over to my far more discerning and wonderfully succinct co-reviewer…
Score: 7/10
Earie’s Review
Kilkerran Heavily Peated Batch 6, 57.4% ABV
£65-70, paid €63
Nose
The bourbon casks are doing the heavy lifting here: citrus, green apple, honey and vanilla, and quite intense alcohol too. The signature Kilkerran farmyard notes of hay and wet straw are there. The peat is playing a bit of hide and seek as it settles for a place in the back, and as I’m going back and forth, I pick up sweeter notes like grapes. With some water, the sour-citric notes get pushed to the front.
Palate
Strong and hefty arrival: the pepperiness and the high ABV are things you need to work your way around. And…there’s the peat. At last, I might add. Woody and dry is about as much as I can come up with at this point. The added water now definitely helps open up this whisky. Quite fruity, making for sweet and sour notes; it’s youthful and peppery, although more spices are starting to show up over time (ginger and cardamom). A lot of maritime salinity here, intertwined with that farmyard Kilkerran note. Finally, and quite subtly, the sherry cask adds shy sensations of mocha and chocolate, before going into a long, ashy, salty and dry finish.
The Dregs
After batches 3 and 4, this is my third batch of the Kilkerran Heavily Peated, and truth be told, it’s my least favourite. It’s still absolutely decent but compared to my previous bathes, which I simply adored, there’s less balance in this one. While there are plenty of flavours to be found, they’re not really that well integrated in my opinion, although the peat does sort of manage to neatly tie up possible loose ends. I’m enjoying this, but I don’t find myself having a hard time reaching past it, as was very much the case with the previous releases. The bar Glengyle has set for themselves seems a bit high and just out of reach for batch 6…
Score: 6/10 EA
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. TK
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