Kilchoman’s Meticulous Selection Pays Off
I was talking to my friend Jeff Garneau this past week about second wines in Bordeaux. For those of you unfamiliar with that term, it refers to a château’s wine made with leftover fruit once the first wine, or grand vin, has been finished.
As an example, the grand vin of Château Margaux is simply: Château Margaux. The second wine of Margaux made with the remaining fruit is called Pavillon Rouge. A bottle of Château Margaux will run you at least $700+, whereas a bottle of Pavillon Rouge is more like $200, despite the fact both wines are made with grapes from the same estate.
“It took a while for the château owners to come around to the idea of second wines,” Jeff explained; “Their feeling was: why would I cheapen my brand by selling the same fruit in a second wine for a lower price?”
The answer, as we know today, is that creating a second wine allows each château to tout the meticulous quality of their first wine.
Imagine this sales pitch:
“Because we use only the finest, hand-selected grapes at optimal ripeness for our grand vin, any fruit that doesn’t make the cut goes into our second wine at more friendly price.”
As sales have proven over time, second wines in Bordeaux have not only created growth opportunities with more price conservative wine consumers, they’ve actually raised the profile of the grand vins and forced château owners to up their game in terms of quality. Everyone wins!
In the 1990s, a group a rebellious Bordeaux winemakers (who became known as garagistes because they made wine in small garages rather than wineries) took this idea a step further, setting out to prove they could compete with the grand vins by making small production wines from lesser vineyards. They did this by using incredibly small selections of hand-picked grapes that were painstakingly scrutinized for quality.
The garagistes also claimed that, unlike the great château wines, their vins de garage could be enjoyed immediately, without the need for further maturation in the cellar. Robert Parker legitimized their cause by awarding huge scores for wines like Le Pin and Valandraud, which were ripe and opulent at a young age.
While some of the wines received rave reviews, the château owners pushed back on the scale of these projects. Anyone can make a few cases of really great wine that way, they responded; try making 20,000 cases.
Which brings me to single malt Scotch whisky.
When Islay’s tiny Kilchoman distillery launched its first whisky back in 2010, many Scotch drinkers were skeptical about its age. Could a five year old single malt whisky compare with the complexity of a ten or twelve year old? More importantly, why should consumers be expected to pay the same price for something so young?
Kilchoman’s answer was quite simple: we take a smaller heart cut of the distillate, meaning the whisky we actually collect for maturation is only the finest and purest.
With that explanation, Kilchoman was inherently making two very radical claims. The first: that single malt whisky could be of a higher quality (at a younger age, no less) if the distiller only kept the center of what we call the heart cut—the spirit that becomes whisky once the heads and tails have been separated. Think of it like separating the filet mignon from the tenderloin to create a more tender and flavorful steak.
The second: that other distillers—by keeping a larger percentage of their distillate for maturation—were creating whiskies that needed to be aged longer in order to mellow their rougher edges.
Sounds familiar, right?
When pressed about the validity of this idea, many large distilleries gave the same defense as the great châteaux in Bordeaux. They were selling tens of thousands of cases all over the world. Why should they focus on smaller heart cuts and smaller production levels, especially when doing so would be prohibitively more expensive?
For a cult distiller like Kilchoman, marketing directly to single malt drinkers in search of the truly sublime, the quality of the whisky spoke for itself. Today, almost twenty years after production first began, the whiskies are better than they’ve ever been. I’ve spent the last few days going through the 2024 releases and I’m in awe of just how far they have come.
Allow me to segue here for a brief moment.
If someone asks if you’ve ever been to Paris, and the answer is yes, you might respond with the affirmative. “Yes, I’ve been to Paris before.”
Let’s pretend that the conversation then turns to the 2024 Olympics and all of the amazing attractions that were in place as a result. To which, you eventually interject: “To clarify, I’ve been to Paris before, but I was there back in 2012, long before any of those attractions were added.”
Large cities, like the brands we know and love, evolve over time. You can say you’ve been there, cross them off the checklist, and move on to the next adventure, but it doesn’t mean you’re up to date on what’s happened since your last visit. Buildings are torn down. Restaurants open and close. Things change.
Which brings me back to Kilchoman. Have you ever tasted Kilchoman’s Loch Gorm expression? If so, when?
The first time I tasted Loch Gorm was upon its original release back in 2012. Comprised of five year old whiskies aged in Oloroso Sherry butts, it was one of the most decadent single malts I had tasted from Kilchoman at that point. I remember looking forward to its release over the subsequent years.
However, the Loch Gorm of 2012 is a very different whisky than the Loch Gorm of 2024, despite sharing the same name and label.
The 2024 release of Loch Gorm features whiskies distilled in 2014 that were matured in Oloroso Sherry butts—twenty-three in total—previously used by Bodega José y Miguel Martin. At a minimum of nine years of age, the latest release of Loch Gorm is a whopping four years older than the original and only modestly more expensive.
Personally, I was absolutely blown away by the difference in quality. Everything about the new whisky is denser and richer. The nose is like smoky hot cocoa. The palate is luscious and round, coating every taste bud with chewy dried fruits, toffee, and peat. The finish is like a campfire s’more.
What stands out most of all is the texture. Nine years in fresh Oloroso Sherry butts will add an incredible amount of sweetness and weight to any whisky, but with the refined center cut of Kilchoman’s distillate it creates a plumpness that almost oozes across your tongue. Any impurity or odorous compound has been entirely eliminated. What remains is grace personified, albeit in a heavy, unctuous Islay mold.
Is it worth paying for?
Let’s first consider this: when Loch Gorm was first released over a decade ago, the MRSP was about $90 per 750ml bottle. Today, it’s around $120. To have a single malt whisky almost double in both age and quality, while taking a mere $30 price hike in the process, is a gift. There are countless single malt Scotch whiskies (and Bourbons, for that matter) that have taken $30 price increases over the last few years. Many of them are decidedly lower in quality than before, with reductions in size from 750ml to 700ml and reduced alcohol levels, to boot. The 2024 Loch Gorm is absolutely worth an extra $30 given those circumstances.
Second, let’s compare it to some Islay counterparts. Caol Ila 12 year sells for about $80 a bottle these days, whereas Ardbeg 10 clocks in around $65. Considering both whiskies are not fully Sherry-matured and are blended into batches far larger than just two dozen concentrated butts, I’d say the premium on the Loch Gorm is more than justified. At 46%, the ABV of the Loch Gorm is also higher than Caol Ila’s 43%.
Third, let’s remember that Kilchoman’s whiskies are already more expensive to produce given the smaller heart cut that is collected for maturation. It costs the same to run the stills regardless of how much distillate you end up keeping.
Fourth, let’s talk about who this bottle is for. Kilchoman is a tiny farm distillery on Islay (a highly remote location) that makes small production whiskies of an immensely high quality. Using local peat cut in the traditional way, slowly distilling by hand, maturing in traditional dunnage warehouses, bottling on site without added color or chill-filtration—this is all worth extra to those who care. If you’re not someone who will pay more for fresh seafood or farmers market produce, you’re probably not the ideal target for Kilchoman.
That being said, if you’re someone who believes that flavor and production practices are worth paying for (Kilchoman actually farms its own barley on Islay and produces a number of grain-to-glass whiskies), then the 2024 Loch Gorm is right up your alley. Every note is brighter and more pronounced than many of its less-expensive competitors, giving careful sippers something to truly savor.
In addition, Kilchoman is an independently-owned distillery, free from corporate politics, so that may also move the needle for you. As someone who visits my local butcher instead of the grocery store, and pays extra to support the artisanal baker in town, I find Kilchoman’s little-engine-that-could story to be inspiring and worth supporting.
As I wrote in my previous post, just because I admire what a producer is doing doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll pay what they’re charging. There are countless small distillers doing some remarkable things, but I’m not always their target consumer. Kilchoman, on the other hand, takes a time-tested flavor—classic Islay single malt whisky—and manages to make it even more delicious.
Like a Baracuta jacket or a Stetson hat, quality and style cost extra. Those things are worth paying for if you’re truly a fan.
-David Driscoll