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“I Don’t Like Peat!” – A Festival Tale in Three Drams

There’s a phrase I hear at every whisky festival I attend. It usually arrives just as someone approaches the stand, brows raised slightly, glass in hand, full of curiosity... until they spot the word “peated” on a label.

“Oh no thanks, I don’t like peat.”

Let’s call our character Alan. He’s friendly, open-minded – but the moment I mention a peated whisky, his face does that thing. The nose wrinkles, the lips tighten, and you can practically see the memory of some long-ago Laphroaig dram flash before his eyes.

I always smile and lean in a little:

“Alan, where does your mind go when you hear the word peat?”

The answer is almost always the same:Islay.Lagavulin. Laphroaig. Ardbeg.That medicinal, smoky, seaside dram people either fall in love with… or remember running from like a burning tyre fire.

That whisky – that bold, iodine-rich, TCP-tasting beast – is only one version of peat.

What most people don’t know is that peat isn’t a flavour — it’s a fuel. And just like wine grapes or coffee beans, where your peat comes from dramatically changes how it affects a whisky.

A selection of Islay's finest.  (image taken from Google, thanks)
A selection of Islay's finest. (image taken from Google, thanks)

🥃 Peat, But Make It Friendly

That’s when I introduce Alan to something a little different: An Aba, from Macaloney’s in Vancouver Island, British Columbia. It’s gently peated to 15ppm — that’s phenol parts per million, which is a scientific way of saying "how smoky it is."

To give you some context:

  • 15ppm is a very light, earthy smoke – like a distant campfire

  • Most Islay peat monsters? Around 40-60ppm (sometimes more)

Alan lifts the glass. Noses it cautiously.Then a small smile appears.

“Oh. That’s... actually really nice.”
An Aba: The Abbot
An Aba: The Abbot

🌱 Digging a Little Deeper

From there, I’ll pour a Soil Duggal — Macaloney’s medium-peated expression at 27ppm.It has more depth, a touch more fire, but still balanced with rich fruit and wood spice. At this point, Alan is nodding. He’s not just tolerating the peat — he’s enjoying it.

Soil Dugall: The Descendents of Dugall
Soil Dugall: The Descendents of Dugall

And then I’ll gesture to the bottle at the end: The Peat Project – 54ppmand 57% Abv and bursting with coastal, herbal, briny notes wrapped in Portuguese Red Wine STR sweetness.

“Too much?”“Maybe… but also… maybe not.”

Not everyone makes it to the end. And that’s okay.


💬 The Point?

Peat is a journey, not a single flavour. It can be subtle or savage, gentle or wild. It doesn’t always taste like iodine or bonfires. Sometimes it tastes like the forest floor after rain, or warm smoke curling from an old chimney.

If you think you don’t like peat, maybe you just haven’t met the right one yet.

So next time you’re at a festival, and your 'Alan'-face starts to twitch at the word “peat,” come and find me. I’ll pour you something that just might change your mind.

And if not — well, at least you’ll have a great story and a dram you didn’t expect.


Slàinte!


Kevin – Barrel & Brand

 
 
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