Jun 202017
 

Two comments I came across in my reading last week stuck in my mind and dovetailed into conversations I’ve had with others over many years.  The first was from a reviewing website which stated (paraphrased) that they don’t review what they have nothing good to say about.  The other, from a high-end watch-review site called Hodinkee, quoted a journalism professor as saying “If you’re going to write about something bad, it needs to be bad in an important way. Just being bad isn’t enough.”

Which got me thinking.  Why write negative reviews at all?  They’re often depressing experiences, however easily the words flow, and I always wonder how some companies who claim to love the juice can make such bad swill at all.

Now, some sites I visit regularly rarely write serious (let alone scathing) criticisms of poor quality rums.  A few adhere to the above policy of if there’s nothing good to say, then not saying anything at all.  Serge Valentin, who scored one rum I liked 20 points wasn’t particularly negative in his review, just mentioned he didn’t like it (probably because he’s a true gentleman in such cases, and I’m not).  Others use temperate language that skates over any kind of negativity, and their disdain is muted.  Against such easy-going writers, others write clearly and angrily why they don’t like a particular rum (or aspects of it), as The Rum Howler did with the Appleton 30, for example, or Henrik of RumCorner did with the Don Papa rums, and for sure Wes of the Fat Rum Pirate has done the language of snark proud on many an occasion and caused me to nod in appreciation more than once, because his reasoning and preferences were clearly laid out (even if I disagreed).

Looking through all the reviews of rums I’ve written in the last seven-plus years, I note that I’ve published a few very savage critiques of rums that I felt were sub-par, many in the first few years. These days I pick more carefully and dogs rarely piss in my glass, so that may be part of why there are now less negative reviews than formerly. Still, while age has mellowed me, it’s not been by that much, and I still think the opinions expressed back then, and the ones I write now for stuff I don’t like, are relevant.  And there are many reasons for that, and why I wrote, and continued to write, as I did, and why I feel it’s necessary, even important, that we do so.

Firstly, it must be stated that I disagree with the quoted professor as applied to the subject of rums, because this is money being spent by me.  I’m not saying I’m a Ralph Nader style consumer advocate, but I do write for consumers, not for producers.  Having written a few hundred reviews, my concept of the site has tilted slightly away from merely writing a blog about rums I tried and enjoyed – though this aspect remains and always will — to writing about every rum I can lay hands on, as part of a desire to share the experience with those who share my passion. There are actually people who read these meandering essays, and importantly, some base buying decisions on the opinions I express. It implies an obligation on my part to write well and clearly where disappointments occur. Too, since this is my time and my money being expended (a lot of both, trust me), then if I find something that wastes either, I’m going to say so. The language may be tempered or furious, and I basically do it so you don’t have to.

Secondly, I believe that by not writing about mediocre or badly made products – and thereby assuming or hoping somebody else will – I’m essentially giving substandard table-tipple a free pass.  That’s a cop-out, and I am firmly opposed to this philosophy. We are bombarded every day with hysterically positive targeted mass-marketing, meant to entice us to buy the latest new “premium” juice, and without a skeptical and jaded eye, it all fades into a dronish mass of boring sameness, without anyone trusted enough to pay attention to writing a dissent.  Ignoring bad stuff is therefore not the solution. It has to be confronted, whether it is bad in a big or small way, and not just in commented Facebook posts that disappear in a week.  This is especially important when new rum drinkers are entering the fold and are casting around for more than the Diplomaticos, Bacardis, Don Papas or Krakens to which they are accustomed. As writers and opinion shapers, there is a duty of care upon knowledeable bloggers to say when a product doesn’t come up to snuff, and why. Our websites are not facebook pages, but repositories of information and opinion going back many years and are consulted regularly – so why shouldn’t we call out crap when it exists? It detracts from our street cred if we don’t, is what I’m thinking.

Thirdly, there’s the matter of comparability.  When there is a large data set of products about which nothing but good things are written, then there is no balance.  People have to know what is disliked (and why) so they can evaluate the stuff a writer does appreciate (and why).  In other words, an understanding by the reader of the writer’s preferences – it’s not enough to ignore or leave out the stuff one don’t like and expecting the reader to understand why, and where else will one gain that comprehension except by reading a negative review?  This is not to say that I think anyone who disagrees with me is a fool (as Sir Scrotimus evidently does about anyone who disses his pet favourites) – I’m just pointing out that agreements and disagreements over any writer’s opinions exist, and given the wide and varying spread of preferences in the rumworld, one should take encomiums, even my own, with a pinch of salt, with the criticisms as a useful counterweight.  Far too many buyers do no boots-on-the-ground, rum-in-the-glass research of their own and simply go with somebody else’s opinion…and if that’s the case, that opinion had better be one that has at least a modicum of credibility.

Does a negative review have to be “bad in an important way”?  Not at all.  A bad rum is a bad rum, people pay money for it, whether five bucks or five hundred, and if we as writers don’t say so, the consumer is left with marketing hoopla, vague word of mouth, brief social media comments, and the click bait of ill-informed online journalists who know little about the subject they are writing about. One good example was the Downslope Distilling’s wine aged rum, where, when I did my research, I was appalled to find writers rhapsodizing about how it compared so well with top end Martinique rhums. I can only wonder how many bought the rum on that basis, and how many switched off rums immediately afterwards. Robert Parker, in his essay on “The Role of a Wine critic” stated that as far as he was concerned, good wines should be singled out for praise, and bad ones made to account for their mediocrity.  I feel the same way about rums, whether made by old and proud houses which have been in existence for centuries, or by new outfits who’re trying to break into the business with small batch production. That’s why I wrote a negative about Doorley’s XO and a positive about the FourSquare 2006, and can stand by each.

Also, who defines what “bad in a big way” is?  What is important and big to me is less important and much smaller to Joe Harilall down the street, or even a different reviewer.  Is it taste, additives, design, mouthfeel, price, availability, overinflated marketing? For instance, some love the Millonario XO for the very same sweetness others so passionately hate, so what one considers a catastrophe may to others (or me), be inconsequential.  To attempt to stratify negativity into stuff that matters and stuff that doesn’t is to attempt to rate what’s important to the larger public; and I lack that kind of omniscience, or arrogance.  Better to lay it all out in the open, present the facts, justify the opinion, express the annoyance, and let the inquiring reader or buyer or taster make up their own minds.  To me, that goes as much for a cheap ten dollar spiced rum as it does to a thirty year old rum costing two hundred.

The argument was made to me some years back that I should not embarrass or shoot down small producers who are now starting out, who need good word of mouth and positive feedback in order to grow and improve over time.  They are, after all, employing people, paying taxes and “doing their best, while you, buddy, what the hell are you doing?” We should support them by buying their rums and providing cash flow which they will use to create better products over time. This line of reasoning is fallacious on several levels.  One, it’s my damned money, sweated for, hard earned; purchasing and then giving a pass mark to a substandard product is encouraging the maker to continue making the same product, since it’s clear nothing is wrong with it – so where exactly is the incentive to change coming from? Second, it’s a straightforward conflict of interest, because then I would be supporting not the consumer (on whose behalf I write, given I’m one myself), but the producer with what amounts to free and fake advertising. Thirdly, people aren’t fools and never more so than now where social media allows them to communicate dissatisfaction faster than ever before – my credibility would be shot to hell were I to say, for example, that Don Papa is one of the best rums ever made. Lastly, I think every producer has an obligation of their own not to rest on their laurels or produce low level crap that passes muster among the less-knowledgeable, but to go for the brass ring: if they tart up a neutral spirit with additives up to the rafters and try to sell it as a premium product for a high price, why on earth would I want to be a party to that? Or if they are really a small outfit and are making a poor-quality rum, why would I want to be less than honest and tell them where they are failing, when that’s the very impetus that might make them try harder, do better, push the envelope?

So, for laser-focused sites concentrating on a very small portion of their market like Hodinkee does, their editorial policy of writing only about good stuff can perhaps be justified.  From mine, where all rums in the world are the reviewing base (though they’ll never all be tried, alas), it’s simply untenable because I do my best to try everything that crosses my path.  I write about any and all of them.  And that means taking the good with the bad, the high end and the low end — in fact, I actively search out the younger and cheaper stuff (which is not always the same thing as “bad”) just to ensure I don’t get too caught up with the old and pricey stuff (which is not always the same thing as “good”).

It’s a personal belief of mine that the past decade of amazing, thoughtful writing by so many bloggers has engendered a relationship between the Writers and the Readers based on some level of trust. Therefore I contend that writing a negative review of a rum on which I spend my money, and one day, you might spend yours, is not lazy journalism or a fun way to let off some steam and bile with witty and eviscerating language, but an important aspect of the overall business of critical thinking and writing abut rums — and maintaining that trust.  My own feeling about duty of care towards the audience for which I write may be in a minority, but that feeling is rooted in a desire to provide the best information and opinion possible to an increasingly educated and curious public.  As such, I honestly don’t think that a negative review, in any form, if supported by the weight of evidence and clearly-expressed thought, should ever be considered as something to avoid.


Note: In this opinion piece I am merely expressing my reasoning in support of the thesis that published takedowns of poor quality product serve a useful purpose.  No negative connotation towards any of my fellow rum bloggers is meant or implied.


 

Oct 102016
 

zz-back-soon

October 10th, 2016

Last post before bailing tomorrow morning. Direct flight to Frankfurt and then ICE train to Berlin.  Yes, I could fly but, like Sheldon Cooper, I love trains.  More space, bigger windows, better view, less common, no airport hassles.  I’ve been moving through international airports since I was a kid in the early 1970s and the changes are not all for the better – they’ve become impersonal and overcrowded zoos without a decent bar in sight.  Nothing to do with rums, just thought I’d mention it.

Grandma Caner has all in readiness. Sample bottles check, tasting glasses check, Fest tickets, check, transport cards are a roger.  Pens, notebook, backpack, laptop, cameras, maps, addresses, everything from that perspective is a go.  She has no internet access in her place, so I’m sorry to report that updates will cease until I can find both the sobriety and a wired cafe somewhere, to let you know how things went.

Not sure I mentioned this but the ‘Caner AfterParty will have around eighty rums in it. About half of those are from last year which the boys did not get a chance to sample or share.  The other half are all new, ordered online or passed on by friends who wanted to share, didn’t like them, or just wanted to apprise me of something unusual and hopefully original.  A few are samples, some are purchases, and there’s a couple that are outright thefts.  Did I mention the Caputo 1973 from the Heisenberg distillery? No?  Better not, then. Forget I brought it up.

You’ll forgive me for being so childishly enthusiastic about all this, but if you’re stuck in DryLand for months at a stretch and can’t regularly taste the Liquid Candy of the Lord, well, I think you’d be pretty peppy yourself at the thought of meeting friends, tasting the hooch and wandering around with the beautiful Mrs. Caner next to you, not a respectful three steps behind. And (gasp!) being able to hold her hand, look into her eyes, and maybe steal a kiss in public.

See you all soon, and wish me a good trip and a great experience.

Oct 072016
 

Part 4October 7th 2016

Got sidetracked last time.  So…who’s exhibiting this time around?  Velier is still a miss (I think they lack a distributor in Germany or something).  JM…J. Bally…Real McCoy…RumFire….By the Dutch and their arrack; there’s an amusingly named new one from Mauritius called Lazy Dodo, along with Gold of Mauritius; I think all the old stalwarts are likely to be there, including Mount Gay and Rum Nation and the Compagnie. Plus the Dominican Republic and the Panamanians. I really have to take a look at the Origines series. I intend to see what the fuss about Don Papa is about.

It’s hard to make a list of the booths I want to visit, when the website shows so few of them…so far.  A day or two later more exhibitors will likely show up than are listed…Rum Nation and the Compagnie both just wrote to tell me they’ll be there, as will Nine Leaves and some others I know from past visits.

I’m specifically looking for the obscure this time around.  Small distilleries, small companies, new independent bottlers.  Delicana and Severin Simon made no great splash in the world since I first ran into them in 2014, yet it was good to go off the beaten track a bit, away from more common fare (even if no-one reads the reviews).  And cachacas, always need more of those.  They’re a niche market of a niche market, one might say, yet, like with Tanduay and Old Monk, in their own part of the world they are well nigh unbeatable on sales (not necessarily quality), so why aren’t more people trying to write about them?

FInalized the AfterParty attendance, Grandma Caner is arranging glasses, itinerary is set, and Mrs. Caner has started sleuthing out sales and mapping shopping areas with potential. Little Caner is dreaming of a week off school. I’m dreaming of rums and hoping I can taste ‘em all.

Oct 052016
 
spirits-business

graphic (c) thespiritsbusiness.com

October 4th, 2016

Was tempted to apply to be one of the judges, then changed my mind.  Last year I spoke to one of them after he came tottering out of the tasting room, listing sharply to port like a sailor doing a hornpipe, crossed eyes dull and glazed (well…I exaggerate a little), and he remarked rather incoherently that perhaps tasting 60 or more rums in two days was a tad excessive.

Matt Pietrek wrote about his judging experiences in Miami and what that was like, and re-reading his article makes me say to myself, “Better skip the idea.”  I can’t taste that fast, I don’t want to taste that fast, and the pleasant ritual of leisurely going through ten rums (max) a day, cross checking, cross tasting, bringing up a reference rhum from the stash to compare, doing it all over many hours with no hurry, is much more my style. I usually complain and whine about my mother’s place not having internet access (or a TV), but there’s no question that the lack of distraction does focus the mind on the task at hand quite handsomely.

This has nothing to do with me judging, but I feel that until every single festival in the world adheres to the same classification criteria for rums that vie for an award, the medals are valueless because they are not comparable.  Since the same rums are never in competition in all festivals, what good is it to say a 4 year old agricole wins its spot in Festival A (under “Agricoles less than five years old” category), when it can only be entered in Festival B in the category of “agricoles between four and eight years”? (I’m stretching the point for effect, but you see the problem).  

I started an essay on the subject last year but it’s still a work in progress since I have no better solutions of my own to offer aside from standardizing, and look how well that’s gone over with classifying rum to begin with. And then the Cocktail Wonk goes this morning and does a better job. His essay on classification is really worth a read.

Oct 032016
 
exhibitors

All logos taken from RumFest-Berlin.com

***

October 3rd 2016

Spending some time perusing the Berlin Rum Fest website for distributors in 2016. I never get to see them all, and the last two years I’ve passed over Havana Club and Mount Gay and Pancho’s Panamanian stuff (it’s always too crowded around there).  The Jamaicans – Worthy Park and Hampden – are coming on strong and gaining a lot of street cred. Maybe I should try those.  Benoit is doing an agricole session, that looks to be something I could do.  There are two “rarities” sessions for an extra €90 (each) on both Saturday and Sunday, but looking at the sample set, I don’t think it’s worth it for me – tried too may already over the years. I’m a damned snob sometimes, sorry. I’d recommend it to others, though, without hesitation, if you want to know how rums from Ago taste like and have the cash.

I want to say hello to colleagues in the rumworld from the Producer’s side…Yoshi from Nine Leaves, Bert Ostermann from Delicana (wonder what Brazilian craziness he has this year?), Florent from CDI (think he might bring the Danish series of fullprooofs with him?…we can hope), perhaps Simon Warren from St. Nick’s – if he has the 18 year old around this year, try keeping me away from that.  Maybe I’ll make some new acquaintances…I hope Daniel from Ekte will be there, heard good things about his juice.  Same with Christian Nagel of Our Rum and Spirits. It’s always a fluid set of people at these things, old ones not coming and new ones popping up. Oh, and I should say hello and introduce myself to Dirk Becker, the owner of the Rum Depot, which has put up this fest for the sixth year in a row. Maybe not – I don’t do much self-promotion which is why I’ll be poor all my life. It’s a personal opinion of mine that if you have to announce “I am this-or-that High Muckety Muck King Turd of Stink Hill” in order to gain respect, you’ve already lost. It’s like being the mouse that roared, y’know?

Mrs. Caner and I (or just me) usually walk around by ourselves and I’m more or less unrecognizable in my low-class tatty peasant attire, and I’ve never done the grand “I’m the Caner” spiel, as if that means something.  Two years and a hundred rums ago, Rob Burr didn’t give me a second look, which was great.

Still, I’m not sure how long my “I’m jes’ plain ole folks” act will work before my face is known and anonymity is a thing of the past. When that happens, I can just see the distributors scatter in horror for the exits — “Hide the shite rum! The friggin’ Caner just walked in!” Or (and I like this one more) — “Oh my God, is that Mrs. Caner?! Quick, polish the bottles, clean the booth, make space for the lady.  Pour a shot of the good stuff. And somebody get her a sandwich!

Sep 302016
 
2015-selection

The selection from last year….

September 30th, 2016

Having settled the masterclasses and being in a lull right now, it’s time to start making serious arrangements for the so-called Caner AfterParty.  This is just a get-together of a few rum chums, people I correspond with and am happy to call friends – though admittedly, friends or not, they would stampede through a wall and over my spine if they knew I had a Velier Caputo 1973 in stock, and ensure they got their sample before I even cracked the only bottle in existence.

The list of friends has to remain small, because the place is quite tiny, and my experience with the Liquorature crew suggests that any group of more than seven people harbours the danger of side conversations derailing our discussions (and tastings).  So far I know that the Danish contingent will come for sure; the agricole boyos are a maybe; one Italian might make it and there’s a German or three in the offing; too bad none of the Brits are coming but they have their own party a week later so that’s understandable.  The Fair Lady of Sweden has to be checked with (later she tells me that alas, she can’t make Berlin this year). Others have already said no for timing reasons. I love modern social media.  There is no way I could get in touch with these people all at once back in the day, short of writing a telegram. Now it’s a matter of minutes.

Reviewing the list of rums (not samples, but real bottles) is daunting.  Have I really bought this much?  I cast a guilty look around, but Mrs. Caner is busy looking around the Louis Vuitton website for (you guessed it) more purses.  But it’s a great selection (rums, not purses) — it’s from all over the world, from unaged bathtub white lightning to 1970s era cask strength mastodons (and I have no idea what the Chums are bringing).  Martinique, Guyana, Barbados, Jamaica, Japan….Nothing quite as impressive as last year when I had the Black Tot and Chantal Comte rums, plus Trois Rivieres, Veliers, Bristol Spirits and so many others, but I’m not complaining this year either – even among all the good stuff, I have something special waiting for them.  I just shudder at the effort that will be required to schlepp them all out of the basement, and up four flights of stairs.  And glassware, need to get that organized too. I’ll get Oma Caner cracking on that, she helped out big time last year (and was generous with her sampling too which is why some of my bottles are suspiciously low right now).

Sep 292016
 

masterclass-002September 23rd, 2016

The Berlin Rumfest list of master classes is out.  Looks like they listened to some of the complaints from last and prior years. Previously, attendance to masterclasses could only be registered (for free) on the day of the fest itself. This created a long lineup every year, right by the entrance, and – not unnaturally – a lot of people who sauntered in late were s.o.l. because the early birds got all the seats.  I doubt that the issue will ever go away entirely because certain presenters will always be sought after (like Richard Seale, for example; and if Luca was to ever show up, prepare for a rock-star level riot in the aisles) and therefore there will sometimes be more interest than available places.

However, on this occasion 50% of the seats will be sold online for €5 each, while the other 50% will still be available at the door for nothing.  Since I’m a firm believer that one of the purposes of money (if and when you have it) is to buy back one’s time (which otherwise would be wastefully spent standing too damned long in a line waiting for a freebie or a sale, or squeezing into a cheap airline seat at risk to both blood pressure and patience), I decide to take the hit and shrug it off as the price of my peace of mind. And given the legendary bad tempers of the Caner Clan (or so the sweet and demure Mrs. Caner says) that’s probably a wise investment on my part.

The question is, which ones? Here’s the list in no order: the full listing by day can be found on the ‘Fest website

  • The two “Rarities” tastings which I’ve already decided (not without some regrets) to skip
  • Nine Leaves with Yoshiharu Tkeuchi
  • The Real McCoy with Bailey Pryor
  • Santa Teresa & Soleras with master ronero Nestor Ortega
  • “How to taste like a professional” and “Rum Versus Whisky” run by Bernhard Schäfer
  • Don Q with Roberto Serrallés
  • Tres Hombres with Andres Lackner
  • Rhum Agricole “The Other Style” with Benoît Baile
  • Rums of Venezuela
  • Ron Origines with Francisco “Don Pancho” Fernandez
  • Ron Botucal with Gilberto Briceno
  • The Art of Artisan Rum production in Europe with Santi Bronchales
  • Ron Brugal with Tanja Bempreiksz
  • Rum’s Place in the spirit’s World with Richard Seale
  • Five “rum and cigars” pairing sessions over the two days

Well, there’s no question but that I have to go to Seale’s session, and with my current interest in agricoles, missing Benoît’s makes no sense. I have detailed notes and unpublished essays on Aldea rums, so Bronchales’s class tickles my fancy. I’ve written a bio on Nine Leaves and always say hello to Yoshi-san whenever I see him, and will be content with that. Rums of Venezuela and the Origines and Botucal classes are tougher to decide on.  I’ll think about those. Actually, I’ll buy the ones I want and make up my mind about the others when I walk in — and that includes the Rarities, which I cannot entirely dismiss; and that, my friends, is how I get snookered into buying some very expensive rums indeed, from time to time.

Sep 272016
 

minionSeptember 19th, 2016

Damn but I’m busy.  People keep quitting at my office and their work comes to me.  And I have to plan my Berlin visit in somewhat more detail. Where do I find the time?

Bottle pictures are often an overlooked aspect of the review, and I take all my own. My cameras are strewn over the floor as I decide which lenses to take with which camera body.  Finally settle on my small and trusty D7000, ‘cause it has its own flash and the D3S is too heavy. 50mm 1.4 lens. I’m looking with longing at the 105mm 2.0 Defocus Control lens which provides amazingly creamy soft bokeh, then regretfully put it aside.  Charger. Memory cards.  Little Caner is right next to me, he’s taking his rig as well, because he wants to take some night shots in the city. “No, you can’t come to the RumFest and take bottle shots” I tell him, but he’s cool with that since he prefers street photography himself, and thinks my hobby is utterly stupid. (“Why would you enjoy something where the object of your interest disappears over time?” is his not-illogical question. Can’t fool that boy.)

Mrs. Caner wanders over. She could care less what I bring, since I’m going to have to carry it, not her, and she has other self-imposed duties at the Fest.  She’s the self-annointed, self-appointed Producer, you see.  She directs me to each booth in turn — “You haven’t tried any of those yet, dolt,” she’s fond of saying to me, and gives sharp and crisp orders to exhibitors when I talk to them and do the sampling, notes and photos. “Move aside, you’re in the frame!” “No not that bottle, a full one.” “You there, please give the man some space!” “Why are your bottles dusty? Why is this place such a mess?” “Your tie is crooked, here, let me fix it.” “I want to try that rum too, please, why is he the only one who gets any?” There’s some Guyanese in that woman somewhere, honestly. Fabio Rossi of Rum Nation, who’s met her twice now, always treats her with wide-eyed nervousness, trembles a little, and makes sure she gets some chocolates as soon as we appear.

Being a Somebody now cuts me exactly zero slack, mind you…I’m not exempt in the slightest: “You speak German, take me to the sandwich counter and get me two. Quickly now, there’s more rums to try.”  She’s gentle like that.  Somehow I’m absolutely convinced a Prada purse is her price for helping me out, since I bought a Chantal Comte rum last year with funds she had privately earmarked for it.  She maintains a studied indifference to my press credentials, just to ensure I don’t get too full of myself.

Sep 252016
 

press-pass-cartoon-1

*

September 1st, 2016

Hey lookie here, Rum Depot sent me an email telling me I’m one of the cool kids and get a press ticket. I guess that passes for credentials. Can pick them up at the press booth on the day. I feel very important all of a sudden.  Yes, I’m Somebody (in my own mind). A ping comes in from Henrik…he just got his too.  We strut around importantly on FB messages like we’re Big Ones, giving each other high fives and chest bumps (figuratively speaking). He pours two glasses of an older Velier to celebrate over there in Denmark, and scarfs them for both of us.

Damn, this means I might actually have to write real press coverage.  Hmm.  Okay.  Better get started. Let’s see…”Full of hope and glory, I set forth one misty morning to do battle with the hordes of the sodden, drunken, monstrosities bestalking our fair land…” — No that won’t work, that’s for some other event. This is about rums, and as all whisky drinkers readily (and enviously) acknowledge, we are sober, serious and industrious people who take our tipple neat and get it for half the cost of the malty stuff. 

How about “It was a dark and stormy night over RumLand, where the terrifying spectre of undeclared sugar stalked the trembling peasantry…”. Not bad. Sounds a lot better.

Of course the Berlin Fest is into its sixth year, and so might require something more serious. Maybe. It’s hard to do with a sense of humour like mine.  Until I get there, I’ll just amuse myself with little updates like these.

Sep 232016
 

July 15th 2016

Still waiting.  No response from Rum Depot on credentials, which is my driven office existence demanding results in five minutes.  What the hell, it’s summer holidays, would you respond?  Not likely.  Hope the guy is having a good vacation, cause y’know, one of us should.

rum-pix

My list of rums in storage in Berlin keeps mounting.  Seventeen rum from France (including some very interesting agricoles I wanted). Two sets of Rumaniacs samples.  Stuff from Africa, the Far East, Japan…India is coming too. White lightning from a half dozen islands…I’m getting a real liking for those. Some local non-export hooch from the Caribbean. Surinamese rums few know anything about – not even me, and I used to live right next door. The purchases I make are usually more high-end rums, more rare, since it’s unlikely my friends will have those (I’m often the source for them). Still, I buy just as many mid- and low-tier rums online as I can, because it’s needed to provide balance.  The flip side of that is my storage space is creaking under the strain. 

Hard to keep track of all this, or who sent me which samples (and there a lot of those), but I have to say this – rumfolks, even those who don’t write, are extraordinarily generous.  My list of people who I have to send samples to is also getting longer, since I want to share, and anyway, this is the mechanism for building the network and maintaining goodwill. Fortunately, my pockets are deep, and the stuff I have to send is not only low-end table tipple but some real good juice, so there’s no shortage.

50℃ outside and still no rum. My palate is dessicating right in front of my eyes. I write a few more reviews from my notes taken on a recent trip to Paris, just because I need to stay sane, and the memory of a good rum is better than no rum at all.  I publish them and site visits take a nosedive.

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