Kingsbarns Distillery Reserve
Distillery Bottling | 59.8% ABV
Score: 8/10
Something special.
TL;DR
A magical moment of masterful whisky. Gratefully not the last we’ll see.
An evening with new friends cements a love for whisky.
True story - 2022 was a year of missing out for me. Through no fault of anyone and despite extensive planning, I missed every one of the events, evenings, tastings and festivals I had gunned for.
It was a perfect storm of happenstance that, by the close of play for the year, looked very much like a big joke on auld Doog. Covid had its filthy hand in most of it, but family gatherings with distant siblings in attendance made whisky event justification difficult. Logistical nightmares and unhelpful taxi services made up the rest. It’s safe to say that going into this year I was hell bent on making sure I hit every mark for collective whisky enjoyment.
I’ve booked and notified the family that I’ll be attending the Fife Whisky Festival and London Whisky Show. A visit to Ardnamurchan on our holiday in April is all set and I’ve also booked visits to Tobermory, Lindores and Deanston. Camper van summer holidays - arranged and route adjusted for distillery glancing blows. Even my wife, a notorious whisky ambivalent, has been vocal about my year of whisky ahead. “Book it all,” she said, and I recoiled in suspicion. The test of her resolve would follow quickly thereafter - a simple message from an online whisky friend commenced my year of whisky events:
“What are you doing on Saturday the 21st of January?”
“Nothing,” I replied - and so it was revealed that I’d be heading to the East Neuk of Fife, to a place called Kingsbarns for what would be the first major Kingsbarns Distillery Founder’s Event since Covid hit hard. I’d be a plus one, invited by the boys from Kinnaird Head Whiskies in Fraserburgh - one of the best small online whisky shops around.
Gary and Matthew run the show and they’d both be heading south, alongside another new whisky friend - James - to an evening of primo drams and primo chat. I told Gary I was as excited as one could be. In reality I was nervous.
Initially I’d mistakenly thought it would be just the four of us - a sort of tour/private reveal - but on the day I received another message detailing the lay of the land: There would be 180 people converging on the modern distillery and visitor centre to taste some special stuff. Covid was still lurking and in some areas, thriving, so the prospect of 180 people stuffed into that wee visitor centre gave me pause for thought. But I decided I couldn’t live my life worrying about catching the flu, again, so it was on. Plus, there was the mention of the Founder’s Bottles. These are the bottles that the people who invested a princely sum in the distillery when it first opened, received each year for five years straight. We would be able to taste all five.
Secondly, Wemyss Malts would be in attendance with their many independently-bottled beauties and blended malts, as well as gin and wine. But one item on the itinerary outshone all the mention of canapes and music from local artists, new bottle launches and poetry: We would have the chance to taste Cask #1 of Kingsbarns whisky. Covid: you can do one.
Saturday morning arrived and I awoke jazzed. We went for a walk on the nearby Bishop Hill and I sped up the incline. Gliders soared above us and my daughter screamed in delight. “How can I hear it Daddy?” she asked, unable to process the whistling of wind over lifting wings. I had my binoculars and watched from my elevated position the winching process at the nearby glider centre at Scotlandwell, marvelling at the aggressive attitude angle to which the gliders adopt as they are pulled in a giant arc through the air.
“Nought to 60 in one second,” I declared to no-one, reminiscing about my time in the Air Cadets and sitting in one of those streamlined, engine-less marvels and worrying about the prospect of being engine-less. “If you have to jump out the glider at any point,” the instructor said to us, “then don’t worry too much about your parachute, because you’ll be so low it won’t open in time.”
A group of youths descend from the summit and as they walked in front of our perched bodies, one of them slipped on the soggy ground and floundered for a second, like a Russian dancer, remaining just off the ground and thus avoiding dirty trousers. All of this misfortune was owed to his choice of inappropriate footwear (treadless Adidas kicks) and, much to my wife’s chagrin, I sound a loud and embarrassing: “Wahey! You caught it! You caught it!”
They laughed but as they walked down the hill I heard the boys call me, “the dad” as they jested at their friend’s misfortune and my subsequent reaction, and I feel immediately old and stupid. My wife belly laughed at this for ages before finally deciding to head home for an enhanced lunch to line my wobbling midriff in preparation for the evening.
Before long it was time to head to the train station, Ladybank for those interested, and we set off at pace. We arrived and I was the only one on either platform - my girls headed off for an evening of pizza and films they’ve seen a million times. I stood, excited and apprehensive; my first whisky event of the year was about to commence. I jumped out my skin when the Tannoy above me announced that, due to a line fault, my train to Leuchars would be delayed 10 minutes, and my heart sank. The arrival time kept increasing with every update before settling on a 14-minute delay. Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue, but I didn’t want to be the guy holding everyone else up, or worse, being left behind. I started to panic and called my wife, but thankfully the train arrived and I was soon cutting through the twilight in a five-carriage convoy of empty seats on my way to Leuchars.
From Leuchars train station I hot-footed it over the bridge towards the line of waiting bodies and a voice carried on the wind: “‘mon you!” The boys from Kinnaird Head have spent the past three hours on the move on buses, trains and on foot to get here from Fraserburgh, and they’re delayed by the chump who lives 25 minutes away.
The big bus that will make its way around St. Andrews collecting more Founders was waiting for delayed people to turn up at the station, so a smaller group was guided towards the Kingsbarns minibus that would travel to the distillery. Fantastic - we’re all jammed into the minibus, James and I riding shotgun and, despite the driver setting the minibus heaters to “surface of the sun”, we arrived at an impressively illuminated distillery facade fresh-footed and willing.
Fun begins. Trays of whisky arrive at our faces as soon as we’re through the door and we gather them with glee. Kingsbarns Dream to Dram is in the glass: light, oily, fruity, tropical and magic. We chatted about our histories and what it meant to us - we’ve never met before and this is an evening of both shared whisky enjoyment and connecting; I was keen to get to know all these people of whom I’ve had extensive ramblings over digital means, but had yet to chat with face to face. It was fast and relentless - belly laughs are a salve for the soul, and my soul was being administered bountifully, luxuriantly, more than it had in recent memory. Whisky is the greatest ice-breaker for minds alike and soon I felt like I’ve known these guys forever.
The room was then called to order. The tall, sharply-dressed chap Gary had been chatting to, and the discussion to which I was covertly listening in on, was Doug Clement, the man whose idea, passion, drive, persistence, astuteness, resourcefulness and grit, founded Kingsbarns distillery. He was asked to say a few words and delivered an unrehearsed speech of wonderful emotion and joy. Even though his idea and subsequent passion project was handed over entirely to the Wemyss family and their capital clout so it could see the light of day, he is utterly devoted to this place. It’s infectious and endearing.
We were there to witness the beauty of Kingsbarns whisky as it manifests in this moment and he couldn’t be more excited. I was excited, too. Excited to get started - to see what these bottlings one through five meant to me in my current whisky moment. We were handed a fresh Glencairn containing something new - Founder’s Bottle 5: cask strength, rich, bold, delicious and I want it forever. As soon as Doug finished his speech, Michael, the distillery experience manager has said a few words, and distillery manager Peter Holroyd had said a few more (and fluffed a recital of Burns’ poetry much to the roaring delight of the onlookers), Gary was off at speed, with the three of us tripping in pursuit; Cask number 1 awaited and Gary wanted the first dram. The staff tried to direct us towards the Founder’s bottles but Gary was an Exocet missile, and they understood immediately.
It's a sensational spirit drink: Cask 1 isn’t officially whisky. The cask has been stored inside the richly appointed visitors centre since filling and, as dictated by law requiring all casks of maturing whisky to be held in bonded warehouses, doesn’t qualify as Uisge Beatha. So it’s called a spirit drink, or something else, but not whisky. Even though it’s whisky. Anyway, it’s rich, light and fruity yet has depth and character, a woodiness and subtlety that belies its eight years. I asked Doug how the whisky has been affected, given the generally warmer temperatures the cask has been subjected to in the visitor centre, and he’s not shy in saying it wasn’t good for a long time. But something has happened in the intervening year since he last sampled it and whatever magic unfolded inside those wood staves, has turned this spirit drink into something quite remarkable. In a way it’s a good indication of how Kingsbarns whisky will be once the maturing stocks, developing at their slower pace in the colder warehouses, come of age.
Our evening diverts through the Wemyss Malts room, sampling a 30 year old Blair Athol titled Jam on Toast, a 17 year old Benrinnes Caramel Panna Cotta, a 22 year old Glen Keith called Cherry Bakewell Tart as well as The Hive, one of the blended offerings from Wemyss. All were delicious and interesting. We all mentioned seeing some fabulous looking canapes flying about the place but we never managed to get any - the last tasty morsel being snatched off the in-transit tray just shy of our position, but Gary seemed to know everyone and we’re told to stand by the bar. We made our way back downstairs and through the now bustling shop, and it wasn’t long until a towering tray of tasty treats appears and we gorged on haggis bon bons. As we were eating, Matthew bought us all a dram of 24 year old Clynelish titled Wax and Wane from the bar, and it was my first taste of this allegedly waxy spirit. It didn’t make a mark large enough against the Kingsbarns whisky flowing from every facet, or against the haggis coating my entire head, to be remembered other than it being very oak driven and without wax, for me.
We drank Founder’s Bottles 1 through 5 and I love 2 and 4 (whatever those were), and returned for seconds before the place is once again called to order. We were about to sample the upcoming release, it’s declared, but that it’s still cloaked in secrecy and not to be spoken of. By this point our evening is coming to a close and suddenly the boys all had their coats on and I’m fumbling to get my camera away and my jacket off the coat hook, taking the dram of new stuff directly into my face as I lurched forward to the doors - our bus is about to depart! From what I can recall as the whisky made its way down my face pipe, it was really quite good. That’s it. Tasting notes complete.
The journey back home was swift and efficient; the passengers of the coach emitting a low din of satisfied chat. The bus arrived at Leuchars after a slight delay due to roadworks, requiring that I once again run to the platform - unnecessary it turns out: the train arrived just after the boys caught up, and I had time to take a photo and thank them for a sensational evening. At Ladybank station I stepped off the train to be greeted by the taxi driver - Martin. We left the distillery at 8:40pm and I was home by 9:35pm. My wife met my jubilant gaze and she knew immediately I’d had an experience.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fallible, assigning more worth to something owing to my feelings, experience or relationships with the folk making the stuff rather than analytically about the whisky from a scientific standpoint.”
Whisky and the drinking of it in company where every single person is a passionate pursuer, is beyond enjoyable. It’s a realisation that life, contrary to what we tell ourselves on a daily basis, is not as bad as we make out. Life is, as it turns out, brilliant.
I had such a fantastic time with the boys from Fraserburgh and I needed it. My fun scale was bumping off the low end and this was an injection of fuel so potent that it threw the needle to the very top, within minutes of Matthew mentioning how much he disliked Glen Garioch Founder’s Reserve, until one night he suddenly did. If this is what it’s like at a closed event with one distillery’s product (and owner’s other bottlings), then what will the Fife Whisky Festival be like in March with many distilleries in attendance? The eyebrows shoot upwards and I’m struggling to avoid bouncing up and down on the spot thinking about it. But wait. There’s one last thing - a cheeky nitrous boost - about to happen that will place this experience in the annals of Doog’s Book of Lore.
Review
Kingsbarns Distillery Reserve, 59.8% ABV
£65, now sold out
During his speech before the fun began, distillery experience manager Michael mentioned that, for the best photograph of the evening, a prize would be awarded in the shape of a bottle of Distillery Reserve 2020 that he’d found in the stock room - a discovery he sounded excited about. I assumed, therefore, that it must be good. As he said these words, every one of my compatriots turned to me and winked, almost in unison. I threw an awkward smile back, but behind it was grim determination to make sure I won that prize. For the first time in my life, I had a real shot at winning something, not linked at all to having glanced around the room and seeing complete indifference for this challenge. I already had my wee Fuji camera in hand, and the phasers were immediately set to stun.
Wouldn’t you know it, I won that prize. I’m convinced I was the only one to enter - I’d been policing the hashtags on Instagram and checking the competition; the submissions were, for want of a better word, thin. Regardless, one of my photos was chosen as the victor - of an ex-peated cask sitting open in the stillhouse for us to sniff - and a bottle of deliciously dark looking whisky arrived at my house a few days later.
I’d tried this whisky already, having received a small 35ml sample of it in 2021 just as my feet were hitting the ground. I though it was good and that was that - I didn’t yet have the knowledge, palate or experience to know any difference. My own connection to Kingsbarns was established with the Bell Rock bottling, which I won at auction for £30 less than retail and I really enjoyed that one. I’d attended the Kingsbarns tour in September last year and sampled the very good new-make, core bottles of Dream to Dram and Balcomie, and several Wemyss spirits, thoroughly enjoying those too. But it was the Founder’s evening and all the fantastic whisky that was handed out over the course of the night that has set me up beautifully to try this revered bottle once again.
I love the Kingsbarns bottle design - and a lot of effort has been put into it. From the glass block pattern on the lower portion of the bottle (excellent grip), the glossy ghosted floral wallpaper on the labels, to the “KINGSBARNS” debossed in the glass on the very lip of the neck, the presentation is excellent. This bottle features a handsome combo of royal and duck-egg blue, and the whisky arrives at my face with almost 60% alcohol by volume behind it. A note on the colour of this whisky: it’s a beaut. It’s not the darkest whisky ever, but the pigment is a rich, deep amber. Imagine holding to your eye one of those amber beads your grandad fitted to his caravan door to stop the midges flying in and turning in the general direction of the setting sun. That’s what looking through this bottle is like.
Nose
Full - red fruits: Cherry and raspberry. Malty with toasted wood, treacle sponge and banana loaf. There’s a hint of liquorice. Sweet bread, sweet sponge - Really cake-like with plenty of icing. Almost burnt sourdough crust. Flour. Strawberries, oak and cedar. Brand new electrical equipment - cameras. Pineapple in a tin.
Palate
Big, hot and woody: HB pencil and cedar shavings. Cherries, raspberries, strawberries and it’s oily. There’s a hint of new-make, but the sweet pencil remains. There’s a very clear gingerbread, Christmas cake, treacle sponge angle - decadent and rich baking spices. The STR red wine barriques give this an almost sherried presentation, with some varnish around the edges.
Water brings the sweetness up significantly, dialling down the heat and the wood, making the redness of this whisky shine.
The Dregs
It’s quite remarkable how quickly you register if a whisky is for you. A quick sniff of the first pour and, if I smell a dusty old wooden linen press uncovered at the back of a damp auction house, I know immediately it might not be a winner, for me. If I find toasted cedar with a rich, freshly baked cherry pie in the nose, I start to get excited. I’m no sherry fanboy, so it’s slightly odd that I enjoy this so much, but the combination of the Kingsbarns new-make character - bright, tropical, light, green and yellow - clearly works so beautifully with the red wine barrique cask, that I can’t help but swoon.
This whole review is an exercise in separating the emotions from a fantastic night at the Founder’s evening and then winning this bottle, from the truth of the whisky. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t fallible, assigning more worth to something owing to my feelings, experience or relationships with the folk making the stuff rather than analytically about the whisky from a scientific standpoint. I’m cognisant of the fact I’m sailing very close to the wind here for bias. Saying this whisky is great, if it wasn’t, because I won it after an evening spent drinking loads of fantastic whisky (for free) would be unfair, risky and tantamount to my undoing.
I also need to be aware I have a bit more data available to me now, having seen behind the curtain a bit more than many who will be reading this. I’ve been to the distillery twice now, met the same people a few times and formed an attachment to their whisky that, up until the Founder’s evening, was simmering. It’s now boiling, but that’s because I’ve tasted a lot of their whisky that some haven’t, won’t or can’t. Sampling cask one was a rare moment of chance for me and I grasped it with both hands. The same was true for the Founder’s bottles 1 through 5. If you’re not a Kingsbarns Founder, you might not ever get to try them - unless found at auction and even then, trying all five in a row going up and down to your heart's content? Not likely. That’s important to note, because it frames my approach to this bottling.
I’ve listened to Doug tell of the origins of this distillery and watched his animated face barely contain the pride and joy from seeing what his passion for whisky has manifested. The folk who are running the show now for Wemyss, Peter and Michael - both are completely smitten with what they’re doing and you can see it when they speak and you can hear it in their musical voices when speaking about Kingsbarns whisky. Hearing and seeing the passion they have for their whisky, tasting the quality of the spirit, spending a bit more time with the Balcomie cask strength, Dream to Dram, the Founder’s bottles and the very first cask, I now have a more robust picture of what Kingsbarns whisky means. I’m able to compare it to other comparative places more accurately now - Ardnamurchan, Lindores, Lochlea, Raasay that I’ve spent a lot of time with - and other lowland spirits like Bladnoch, Auchentoshan, Daftmill and Clydeside too.
When viewed alongside its contemporaries, Kingsbarns stands alongside the inimitable Ardnamurchan on my sliding scale of enjoyment. While the people doing magical things up near the most westerly point of the British Isles are creating a rugged, smoky yet sweet sea-worn spirit that exudes competence and consistency, the people on the east are creating a lighter, more open and airy spirit. It’s almost a match made in heaven - if I want a bit more grit and sea salt blast, I’ll pick any of Ardnamurchan’s range: nail meets head. If I want a more fruity, melodic and sweet moment, I’ll reach for Kingsbarns.
Kingsbarns have a more comprehensive visitor experience than Ardnamurchan, but their location demands it - situated next to two links golf courses almost necessitates the enhanced facilities. The only people passing the entrance to Glenbeg are locals, trades or tourists, lost or otherwise, and it would be a bit silly to pour barrels of money into a slick, well-appointed visitors centre. There’s a nice shop at Ardnamurchan and a simple yet effective sample area upstairs, but it’s certainly not the museum level of presentation like the east. It doesn’t matter really - a nice shop, cafe and visitor experience doesn’t change the quality of the whisky, and if it’s a terrible whisky, no glossy information board will change that.
Luckily for us, the future looks incredibly exciting for Kingsbarns. I’m looking forward to seeing this new core range expression appear. I’m keen to get my hands on the Balcomie cask strength, so I can have a good look at that too. But the two bottles I’ve managed to acquire and scrutinise have shown me that Kingsbarns whisky is not just worth your time, but worth actively seeking out and seeing for yourself how remarkable it is. The STR cask that once held red wine has brought the Kingsbarns spirit alive in a different way than the Dream to Dram or even Balcomie. It’s big, lush, decadent and delicious. I know this whisky isn’t available now, although they do appear at auction, and for that I’m a bit sad. Kingsbarns released another Distillery Reserve in 2021, which is a lot lighter in colour and is from both first-fill bourbon and STR red wine barrels - not to be confused with this 100% STR red wine special, but I’ve been told it’s similarly fantastic. If you see either on auction, it would be worth gunning for.
In conclusion then, this has been an eye-opening, affirmatory experience. I think, like I mentioned in my bore-fest Ardnageddon piece, that we’re currently witnessing the golden age of whisky and this whole experience with Kingsbarns and their whisky has confirmed it. The new-make spirits whisky distilleries are producing right now are properly tasty entities and I don’t think Ardnamurchan and Kingsbarns are going to be the only ones with utterly dreamy whisky in a few years time. I’m betting if I had a good look behind the curtain at Lindores or Lochlea, I’d see similar things: passionate, genuinely excited makers of whisky with incredibly tasty products. I’d likely form attachments to those places too and fall in love with their whisky as I have Ardnamurchan and now Kingsbarns. It’s all so damned exciting to witness.
Score: 8/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. DC
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