Kilchoman Machir Bay Cask Strength (2020 Festive Edition)

My final judgment on a spirit rarely comes the day I open it, unless it's truly awful, which is uncommon now that I check reviews before buying. Since Kilchoman isn't easily found here, a pal in Chicago got this for me after I mentioned interest from a high score in Whisky Advocate. Being an Islay enthusiast, I appreciate the punch of cask strength spirits. My buddy surprised me with it; we'd been having video chats during the pandemic, sipping whisky and discussing life. I'd said I was interested, and he went and obtained it for me, arranging for us to open it together over video call to share the experience. I was all for it, so one evening in late June, after the family was asleep, I called him and we enjoyed it. "Yep, that's an Islay," I thought. "Definitely cask strength Islay." My initial thoughts were profound, right? I wasn't certain of my feelings. The first sniff nearly singed my nose hairs, but that was anticipated. What else did I detect? We talked about the usual Islay notes: peat, sea salt, iodine, with a hint of citrus. For me, there's a lemony note. While that lemony quality can turn unpleasant quickly in some scotches, here it's invigorating. Less like Pine-Sol (thinking of blended Speyside Cutty Sark, unfairly) and more like a fresh lemon squeezed on fish. I also caught a whiff of strawberry on the finish of the nose. Now, looking at this, trying to summarize my experience with Kilchoman's Machir Bay Cask Strength 2020 Festive Edition, that berry scent is less noticeable, with the lemon and saline notes coming through stronger. I occasionally sense a faint rubber aroma, but it's not off-putting. It's not the smell of tires screeching, but more like the appealing scent of a new toy fresh from the packaging. Since it's subtle, I enjoy it, and it seems to blend with what might be the medicinal iodine common in Islay scotch, making it more appealing somehow, even if words can't quite capture the sensory experience. I must admit, I didn't pick up on as much during the first tasting as I did after living with the bottle for three months. It was mostly just, "It's an Islay. Definitely a cask strength Islay." It was challenging because, despite loving the shared experience of opening the bottle with my friend on the call, I wanted to offer more than a basic description. After all, in our prior discussions, I had been recommending spirits to him. While I wouldn't claim to be a connoisseur with an exceptionally refined palate, I do thorough research before tasting and can usually suggest something suitable if I know someone's preferences. Anyway, after inhaling the aroma, we moved to tasting. Unfortunately, my initial impression of the palate offered little more than the nose (burnt hairs and intensity). Now, about my earlier point: I can't fully judge a whisky until I've spent time with it. A week later, when my father visited, I offered him a taste. He enjoyed it. For comparison, I poured him a dram of Ardbeg's Wee Beastie, a whisky we'd liked before and I had recommended to the friend who gifted me the Kilchoman. Next to the Kilchoman, the Wee Beastie tasted like water. Flavors that seemed prominent in the Wee Beastie were subdued when tasted alongside the Machir Bay. This is understandable given the Machir Bay's higher proof, making the comparison somewhat unfair, but tasting one Islay against the other helped me move beyond simple observations like “That’s an Islay. Definitely a cask strength Islay.” For instance, the Beastie has less fruitiness and more of a butterscotch/Werther's Original aroma that carries through to the palate. This highlights that my preference for the Kilchoman isn't due to typical Islay characteristics but its fruitiness. The Kilchoman's finish is also spicy, unlike the Beastie's. This past weekend, I also compared the Kilchoman to Ardbeg 10, which is more polished than the Beastie due to its age. The Ardbeg 10 lacks the sweetness, and neither it nor the Beastie possesses the Machir Bay's finish spice. Honestly, I don't fault either Ardbeg; the Wee Beastie is a good value at its usual price point in my area (and was recently on sale), and Ardbeg 10 is a classic. However, the Machir Bay is cask strength, making direct flavor comparisons difficult if its proof were lowered to match the others (as I mentioned, Kilchoman isn't readily available here, so getting the standard Machir Bay requires a special order). A more appropriate comparison would be with Uigeadail, which I had last fall and might be one of my all-time favorite whiskies. However, buying Uigeadail right now isn't feasible (I'm saving up for the Laphroaig 2021 Cairdeas Pedro Ximenez Cask, which is slowly appearing in my state but hasn't reached local stores yet. If I still have the Machir Bay Cask Strength when it arrives, that could be an interesting comparison too). But I'm getting sidetracked from simply saying this is an excellent whisky. Since it was a gift, I'm using the listed price (I don't know what my friend paid). If you can find this for $75, get it. And if you have a friend who buys you a bottle? Well, you've got a lifelong friend. And considering the friend who got this for me has known me since we were roommates studying abroad in Rome in '99, I had no doubt of that anyway. Great whisky is meant to be shared, even if only virtually over FaceTime, and every time I pour a glass of this, I think of him. I raise my glass and offer a toast before my first sip. It's the least I can do.

Ever wish a beloved whisky was bottled at a higher proof? Well, Kilchoman has made that wish come true. This is the familiar Machir Bay, but amplified. Bottled at 59.2% ABV for enhanced flavor, this was released to commemorate the distillery's 10th anniversary. A fun tidbit for everyone: we were informed at the distillery that the renowned British vehicle, the Land Rover, was conceived by the distillery owner's grandfather. Whether this is relevant to you or not, I've fulfilled my mission to share this knowledge I gained on Islay. On the nose, this is excellent. Notes of orange and faint ash. It's reminiscent of a new can of tennis balls or fresh linens. I can describe it as a clean ashtray that still carries a subtle ashiness. It has a floral, barley, and vanilla composition. Like vanilla ice cream with lemon. On the palate, it's nearly flawless. Flavors of toffee, dulce de leche, and salt. Grassy notes. Lime. Upon the initial taste, it delivered abundant vanilla and coconut. Very creamy. The aftertaste is intensely sweet, which I didn't anticipate. Notes of chocolate and sulfur; it feels overwhelmingly like toffee. Beautifully sulfuric gunpowder and lemon. Overall, this was superb, and it certainly feels like an improvement over the standard Machir Bay, which is also an exceptional dram. It's very sweet, fruity, and peaty, with everything in excellent harmony. I absolutely adored it; let's go buy a Land Rover! My rating is 93 out of 100. Cheers!

Wonderful. A surprisingly significant Sherry influence. Nose: Vanilla, Raisins, Figs, Dates, Cherries, Bananas, Honey, Coconuts, Guava, Jaggery Syrup, Almonds, Salted Cod, Red Apples, Prunes, Cooked Agave, Green Tea Palate: Smoke, Vanilla, Milk Chocolate, Raisins, Figs, Green Pepper, Dark Chocolate, Bacon, Tobacco Finish: Salted Cod, Honey, Grapefruit, Vanilla, Coconuts, Bananas, Almond Syrup,

Nose: freshly cut alfalfa, scents of springtime in the country, rubber, then vanilla & summer fruit, smoky throughout. Palate: oily, meaty, smoky, charcoal & oak. Finish: a burst of smoke, oak, vanilla, spicy. One of the most distinct pours I've ever had, leaving the tongue tingling with a long finish. I love this one.

Very good. Big and bold. Heavy peat presence, but also considerable nuance. Notes of honey, hay, barley, and chocolate, as observed by experts. One of the longest, if not the longest, finishes I can recall. It reminds me of a cask strength Laphroaig, but with more complexity and less medicinal character.

The peat stands out in this cask strength version, and the toffee note is particularly special. A beautiful whisky.