Compass Box The Peat Monster
Blended Malt Scotch Whisky | 46% ABV
Score: 6/10
Good Stuff.
TL;DR
An easy-sipping, great value Islay kick
Break a leg
Recently, both in my hometown and in the neighbourhood where I currently live, the councils have been demolishing old playgrounds to replace them with brand new ones.
It’s a good initiative if you ask me. I cannot imagine anyone these days being cross about some tax payer’s money being spent on trying to make it attractive for kids to seek entertainment outside of the house, away from the glowing rectangles of eternal content. That is, until you see what the council is replacing the equipment with.
The playgrounds I grew up with as a kid in the early two-thousands were a mix of equipment that was installed around that time and stuff that had already been around for a decade or two.
The climbing towers were about twice as high as the ones that now replace them and, as a child, were sometimes really quite a challenge to climb. What little guard rails there were on top of them did little to prevent you from falling down and breaking an arm if you were to put a foot wrong.
You’d then want to go back down again via the slide. This slide was made of iron, which meant that if it was wet the combination of its height and slipperiness would hurl you along and deposit you dangerously close to the seesaw that was positioned a bit too close by. If it was a hot summer’s day however, you wouldn’t have that problem, since you’d grill your legs and hands the moment you sat down and grabbed the edges to hold on to.
Then there were the swings, hanging from a high beam. That meant the chains holding the seat had to be long as well. So you could build some proper momentum and swing high enough to reach the sort of dead point in the air that would make the chains lose tension when you went past a ninety-degree angle. You’d experience a slight moment of free fall before the chains tensed up again, the sudden jolt and rotating capabilities of the seat delivering you face first to the sandy depths below if you weren’t holding on properly.
Some of those playgrounds were a wee bit dangerous. Which is exactly why they were popular with me and my peers.
We learned to be a bit careful and developed our common sense. We learned to be brave enough to try risky things anyway, and we loved the kick of it. Sometimes at the expense of ripped jeans, ripped limbs, broken wrists or blood stains, but those were temporary consequences of us learning valuable lessons and creating legendary stories to tell to our friends at school the next day.
The slight dangers served a purpose and added to the fun factor. When we felt like we had figured the playground out, we went in search of more danger and excitement by sneaking into the building sites across the road and climbing on top of/throwing things off of anything we could find.
The new playgrounds I see being put up now are a feast for the sort of parents who want to keep their children safe from all harm and pain (good luck) instead of wanting them to become strong enough to face harm and pain (good idea).
The equipment never seems to be more than six feet high and every corner and angle is rounded. Everything is made out of smooth wood and plastic. The swings are low enough to survive a fall without ever bruising yourself. And there are soft tiles surrounding the bottom of the slide, underneath the stairs up to the slide, and underneath the swings. They are the playground equivalent of gentle parenting put into practice. You couldn’t hurt yourself if you tried.
The playgrounds remain empty.
Now I accept it’s a challenge to get youngsters away from the easy dopamine-providing, extremely addictive, panes of glass in their hands, and it won’t be easy to convince them that there is more fun to be found in their own creativity and in running about. But surely if you want children to play outside and stimulate physical activity you have to make it appealing and exciting for them to do so.
In the council’s defence; they are under pressure to provide playground equipment that won’t result in them being sued by millennial urban parents over the unfathomable hurt and bodily damage (a bruised shin) caused to their precious child by the dangerous swings of death. And that actually happens these days.
It puts me in the mood for a whisky that has a bit of a playground vibe to it. Exciting, outdoorsy, easy to have fun with and with a bit of an edge.
Review
Compass Box The Peat Monster, Blended Scotch Malt Whisky, core range, un-chill filtered, natural colour, 46% ABV
£35 (€40) paid and continuous availability
This bottle was a backup I once bought that was hiding somewhere on my shelves for a year or three before I opened it recently. You’ve probably noticed Compass Box has since (unsuccessfully, in my opinion) tweaked their branding somewhat and that this is the older style label.
From what I can tell however, the recipe has remained unchanged since 2019. That means this blend consists of 64% Caol Ila from refill hogsheads of different ages, 35% ‘Williamson’ (Laphroaig) from refill hogsheads, and 1% of Compass Box’s own Highland Malt Blend from their ‘custom French oak casks’.
I think the artwork on the label is fantastic. Yes, it’s cartoonish and extravagant, but where the artwork of Diageo’s special releases seems overdone and heavy on the neon crayons, I think this is tastefully done. It’s playful, curious, and gives off the impression that the illustrator had genuine fun designing it.
It doesn’t show in the photos, but there is a small layer of cask sediment resting inside the bottle, giving us further proof to support the declarations of natural presentation that are present on the label.
Score: 6/10
Good Stuff.
TL;DR
An easy-sipping, great value Islay kick
Nose
More peaty than smoky. Turpentine. Twiggy fire with a lot of wet, fresh leaves in it. Garden pest poison, in a good way. Smoked sweet cheese. Gruyere cheese. Overripe clementine. Warm lemon juice concentrate. It carries some of those Laphroaig-style medicine cabinet wafts. Decaying vegetation. Boiled vanilla-flavoured sweets.
Palate
Garden chemicals. The peat is there, but for something named ‘The Peat Monster’ and with young Laphroaig making up over a third of this blend, it’s actually fairly tame. Soft citrus on the arrival, which fairly quickly moves onto a slightly cigarette ash, drying finish. Adding water brings some smoke to the foreground and extends the event a little bit. It’s just as easy to dissect and enjoy neat though. Ever so slight chili heat and pepper coming up after a while.
There’s a simple honesty to the way it presents itself to you in the glass. It’s a blend of Caol Ila and Laphroaig from refill hoggies. Nae fancies, fairly young malts. And it tastes exactly like you’d think it would, but in doing so it isn't boring or pedestrian.
It’s an easy sipper as well. When your palate is in the right place for it you can make it disappear from the glass with dangerous ease.
The Dregs
I have a soft spot for this blend. No weird finishes, characterful Islay malts, and at the €40 I paid for it, it provides great value for money if you’re in the market for a simple, yet interesting peaty kick.
And to all the children that are hopefully not hanging around on Dramface at all: go outside and ride your bicycle energetically carefree, while riding your skateboards down the slide. Go skin your knees. You can thank me later.
Score: 6/10
Tried this? Share your thoughts in the comments below. MM
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