Kilkerran Cask Strength Bourbon Wood (54.1%, OB Work In Progress, B#7, Bourbon Casks, 6000b, 15/211): nose: very-slightly peaty indeed. One would struggle to find much smoke of any kind in this. Instead, we have a musty clay floor covered in lichen, and stacks of old staves, slowly but surely turning to dust. Behind that, green gooseberries and unripe greengages wait for their turn to assail the nostrils. Those fruits ripen relatively quickly and morph into Mirabelle plums and apricots. With some imagination, one may spot someone smoking blond tobacco, somewhere, though it is categorically not in the same room, so subtle it is. The second nose has a cardboard box full of old papers ready to be used as fire starter (twisted, hey?) It is now dry alright, only enhanced by a drop of vinaigrette, and oily tobacco sprinkled with green-grape juice. Mouth: fruity and mellow, here are plantains, cut apricots and cured nectarines, with cured peaches lurking in the background. Keeping it in the mouth long enough will indicate how strong this is, yet it feels behaved for 54% -- tame, even. Honey-augmented toffee, Bourbon-y vanillin, a couple of leaves of peppery rocket, and a pinch of sawdust from a sawn oak that was covered in lichen. The second sip is juicier and presents green-grape juice similar to what we had on the nose. Chewing brings forth oily tobacco too, unlit, and a freshly-polished piece of wooden furniture. Finish: it has a bit of a kick, if not a bite, which likely betrays the age (it is a NAS, but Glengyle started distilling in 2004 and this was bottled in 2015; it is an eleven-year-old at most, likely younger). That aside, we have a beautiful Bourbon maturation at play, with louder wood than may be expected. More to the point, we see the greengages, Mirabelle plums and honey from before, a cloud of billowing Virginia-tobacco smoke, and toffee appears a little afterwards. The second gulp is fresher and stronger, reminiscent of peppermint, but much more pleasant. Perhaps it is apricots augmented with spearmint? In any case, it works. It offers lichen-covered oak branches at the death, which is nice. Very nice. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, OB)
3.244 19yo 1996/2015 Film noir (58.8%, SMWS Society Single Cask, Refill ex-Bourbon Hogshead, 211b, L15 175): nose: surprisingly dirty for this distillery. This has muck, farmyard sludge and even septic-tank fumes. That dissipates a little and makes way for greasy earth from ploughed fields... aaaaand the septic tank comes back. In a perverted way, I think it works, but I can imagine it will not be a note universally seen as enjoyable. This nose seems to alternate between straw bales, farm paths and, ahem, organic waste, shall we say. There probably are some decaying fruits in the midst of all that, so taken over by decay that it is not worth trying to identify them. The second nose emits more tar scents than septic-tank fumes -- and, of course, if you see the double meaning in the expression "skid mark," you may find that logical. We turn back to dark earth soon enough. Mouth: redemption! If one did not care for the nose as much as tOMoH did, tOMoH cannot picture anyone disliking the palate for the same reasons. It remains farm-y, but now focuses more clearly on the earthy side of the farm (scorched earth, to be precise) and injects a bold serving of fruits -- bruised apples, overripe quince, white plums, maybe carambola (yay!) and a dollop of a peppery mint paste elevate the whole to new levels. Chewing gives a dirt-bike feel to the palate, where too quick an acceleration spurts mud from the studded tyres, yet fruits soon come back to reclaim the game. The second sip has green chilli to start with, juicy and fiery, then citrus foliage and sliced green bell pepper. It stays hot, though keeping it on the tongue for a minute revives the fruits and the earth, like peaches fallen into a ploughed field. Finish: ooft! Scorched earth, torched soil in planters, fruits licked by a flamethrower. Strawberry leaves try to speak and are only partly heard, soon in the shadow of a tarry race track. It is a never-ending finish too that warms one up and leaves the tongue throbbing, looking for fruits and finding nasty skid marks on tar instead. The second gulp is more or less in line, yet it adds lichen scraped off an empty vase kept by the fireplace. A bruised apple and a ripe greengage find themselves smashed in said empty vase, complemented by a fistful of earth. All that has been resting on the mantlepiece of the fireplace for a few hours. Ahhhhh! Bowmore. 8/10 (Thanks for the sample, OB)
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