I am not a reviewer.
I am not a whisky savant.
I am not an animal.
I am a lover of whisky, and I love the smell that fills the glass and rises above.
I love the aroma from oak and vanilla and lemon and dead pine needles.
I love the range of colors from lightest of the young to darkest of the old.
I love being a first ball, fastball hitter, and the smell of an old baseball.
I love the way light refracts in the spirit and the glass, sparkling away.
I love the look of an old faded 35mm film negative held up to a dusty 60W incandescent bulb.
I love the reflections of my fingers in the liquid.
I love the initial burn on my lips, gums, and tongue.
I love the whoosh from the flames after spraying lighter fluid on a charcoal barbeque; don’t try that at home, Kids.
I love the feeling of the whisky as it paints my mouth and throat like a can of watery Sherman Williams 6674 Jonquil coating a white plastic Home Depot paint tray.
I love the burst of heat and the roar of peat as it fills my mouth and goes down south.
I love bad rhymes.
I love a parade; well, not really.
I love a campfire the next morning with still warm embers, so sue me Smokey the Bear.
I love the ocean’s salty air on the back of my tongue.
I love the fresh, clean alcohol of a young spirit.
I love walking the grounds of Kilchoman and seeing animals roam the farm.
I love the taste of Islay.
I love a deep oak flavor.
I love the smell of Pledge on the old family coffee table.
I love walking into the grain barn next to the the Kilchoman distillery.
I love being mesmerized by the mounds of barley waiting for its trip across the way.
I love chewing on barley, tasting Islay and the earth that the grain grew in.
I love my parents’ 1960’s suburban tract house and the bar downstairs in the family room with dark wood doors, mirrored wall, and glass shelves for bottles of spirits to shine on even though they were barely touched.
I love thinking how bottles of Scotch would look on those shelves.
I love the old barrels at Kilchoman repurposed as outdoor furniture weathering away after serving their first purpose.
I love the musty horse barn next to the distillery with the smells of old leather and horse blankets from long rides on the trails.
I love drinking the whisky and tasting the farm, the island, and the sea.
I love the Kilchoman Original Cask Strength.
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Many thanks to Impex Beverages Inc. for the sample. I love those Guys!
Categories: Booze Review, Kilchoman
Awesome – “I love the look of an old faded 35mm film negative held up to a dusty 60W incandescent bulb.” Funny that we’re about to lose this. And not because film negatives are being phased out, but 60W incandescent bulbs are.
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And how will we bake brownies in our Easy Bake Ovens without 100W bulbs, damn it?!
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Whisky poetry. I am moved.
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Lovely stuff AK! I need to get my sorry behind over to Islay. They say you can’t REALLY write about a whisky until you’ve been to the actual distillery because of all the things you mentioned. Some day. Some day.
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It’s a moving experience, to say the least. So get moving! Thanks
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I’m working on it! A 50th birthday present to myself.
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If you repeat the same words over and over, it looks like poetry, doesn’t it? If I lose the capital letters, I could be the e.e. cummings of whisky poetry. That’s a job somewhere. Thanks!
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First ball, fast ball hitters, bad rhymes, parades, the smell of Pledge…this non-review was a little all over the place. I’d expect nothing less. The photography and descriptions of the Kilchoman distillery were fantastic. I almost felt like I was there. Well done!
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“Thank you very little” – Ty Webb
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“Where’s the records room?” – Dr. Rosen
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A absolutely adore Kilchoman. Love the distillery–saw it before it opened years ago as they were trying to get off the ground, and then again just after opening. Terrific little place. And a mighty gorgeous dram.
Slainte!
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