Curiosity Distilled: KURIO Crimson Jam and the Art of Liquid Mischief.

If whisky were a genre of music, most distilleries would play safe in the key of tradition - a gentle waltz, maybe a stately sonata. But KURIO? KURIO hits the stage like a synth-heavy fever dream, improvised in real time by curious minds who’ve clearly raided the flavour lab after hours.

Born from the eccentric brilliance of Tasmania’s LARK Distilling Co. - the godparents of antipodean whisky - KURIO isn’t just a bottle, it’s a manifesto. A whisky that skips the polite handshake and opts for an experimental jam session instead. Its first track? Crimson Jam, a flavour-soaked composition that tastes like someone dared to ferment curiosity itself.

This isn’t whisky that waits quietly on a mahogany shelf, begging for reverence. This is whisky that kicks the door open in cherry-red boots, dripping jam and humming with notes of mischief. It’s a potion blended not for those seeking nostalgia, but for those who flirt with the edge of the unexpected.

Crimson Jam: A Liquid Lovechild of Curiosity and Chaos

Crimson Jam is what happens when you let the rules nap and the senses run riot. It’s built on a base of exceptional Tasmanian single malts - each one a character in the story - but the real twist lies in its finishing: seasoned in Tasmanian cherry and sparkling wine casks. It’s like ageing whisky in the memory of a midsummer party.

The result? An audacious sensory sonnet a whisky so vivid, it feels like tasting colour. And not just any colour - this is vermilion daydreams and garnet punchlines: It begins like a memory of a summer orchard filtered through stained glass - sun-warmed cherries, poached plums, and a whisper of rose petals bruised underfoot. There’s a teasing hum of effervescence, like the ghost of sparkling wine still fizzing in the woodgrain.

Dropping like a cherry-red synthwave beat - bold, electric, and impossible to ignore.

It arrives softly on the palate, then pirouettes - red berry coulis, clove-dusted apricots, and something oddly reminiscent of a cherry danish eaten in a jazz bar. Mid-palate? Imagine licking a spoon dipped in black forest gateau, before biting into dark chocolate bark speckled with sea salt and orange rind.

The texture: Velvet robe with a sequined lining. It glides, then shimmers. A whisky with tactility - like brushing your hand across silk draped over velvet.

The finish is lingering and slightly irreverent - not unlike a well-dressed stranger who leaves behind a trace of oud and laughter. Sweet oak, sparkling acidity, and a touch of pink pepper keep it dancing long after the sip is gone.

In its very essence, it's a moodboard in a bottle - vintage Australiana meets Tokyo cocktail bar meets the inside of a Wes Anderson film.

You can sip it neat, sure. But it also shines in a highball that sparkles like scandal or as the smoky heart of an Old Fashioned that winks with every sip. No rules, just rhythm. It’s a whisky that plays well with others but never loses its groove.

Tasmania: The Island that Thinks in Flavours

It is apparent that KURIO wasn’t conceived in a sterile boardroom - it was born in the heart of Tasmania, a place where invention is necessity and multicultural roots weave wild ideas. Here, innovation isn’t just encouraged - it’s how you survive. This island isn’t just remote; it’s rebellious by nature. And from this frontier of flavour, Master Distiller Chris Thomson and his renegade team at LARK launched KURIO, not as a spin-off, but as a declaration.

Thomson’s ethos? Forget convention. Ask, “what if?” Start with tradition, then poke it with a stick.

KURIO isn’t a rebellion for rebellion’s sake - it’s what happens when craftsmanship meets curiosity in the dark and they conspire to break new ground. The team didn’t just blend whisky - they choreographed a sensory coup. Crimson Jam was the first act, but it will hopefully noy be the last.

A Palate Reset for the Bold and the Bored

Where does KURIO sit in the Australian spirits landscape? Somewhere between the shelf and the spotlight. It’s a premium blended malt that speaks fluent flavour, designed for drinkers ready to trade safety for surprise. In a market increasingly thirsty for personality, KURIO offers not just whisky - but a full-bodied plot twist.

And the KURIO drinker? They’re the curious ones. The sippers who ask questions mid-pour. The old-school purists tempted into temptation. The new-school enthusiasts who treat flavour like a passport.

One can only hope that KURIO isn’t a one-hit wonder and that the minds behind it are already eyeing new expressions, new cask finishes, new ways to say, “You’ve never tasted this before.” Think of KURIO as a lab where Tasmanian terroir meets creative freedom - a place where the unexpected is the house style.

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Words by AW.

Photo courtesy of KURIO Whisky.